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THE 

Philosophy  of  History 


BY 


REV,  A,  SCHADE,  PH.  D. 


BASED    UPON    THE    WORKS    OF 

DR.  R.  ROCHOLL. 


With  rights  obtained  from  the  Author  and  Publisher  of 
the  German  Original. 


1899. 

A.  SCHADE,  Publisher. 

1134-1138  Pearl  St.,  Cleveland,  0. 


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Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,   in  the  year  1899,  by 

REV.  A.   SCHADE,  PH.   D., 
in  the  OflBce  of  the  Librarian   of  Congress  at  Washington. 


SYNOPTICAL  INDEX. 


Prospective  Remarks. 
BOOK  FIRST:     HISTORICS. 

A— CO-EFFICIENT  FACTORS  OF  HISTORY. 
1.    History  and  Natural  Sciences.  2.     History  and  Metaphysics. 

3.    Personal  as  distinguished  from  Natural  life.    4.    Man  the  Synthesis:  Matter,  Mind. 
5.    Philosophy  of  History  in  its  relation  to  unsatisfactory  interpretations  of  history. 

B— CO-OPERATIVE  MODE  OF  HI3T0RY. 
I.  Purpose  and  Goal  of  History. 

2.  Law  of  Development.  3.  Law  of  Movement:  Physical  means.   4.  Evolution  of  History;  Mind  interacts. 

5.    Plan  of  History. 

BOOK  SECOND:  THE    PHILOSOPHY  OF  HISTORY. 

SYLLABUS. 
A— SUBSTRUCTURE  OF,  POLARITIES  IN,  HISTORY.      First  Circle  of  Nations:  TURANIAN. 
1.    Celestial  Scenery.  2.    Terrestrial  Scenery. 

3.  Prehistoric  Man;  Locality  of  his  Origin  4.  Original  Man:  Common  Source  of  Language,  Right,Religion. 

S.  A  First  Man;  the  Hieroglyph.  6.  The  Calamity  and  the  Catastrophe.  7.  Mythical  Religion. 

8.  Ethnical  Material  classified.       9.   Ethnical  Mass  differentiating.       10.  Polar  Tension,  individualising. 

11.  Eastern  Semi=circle:  TURANIAN.        12.  TURANO=MONGOLIAN  WORLD:  Western  Semi=circle. 

B— SECOND  CIRCLE  OF  NATIONS:  ARYANS. 
!.  Orient,  South:  HINDOOS,  Transcendency,  Incarnation.   2.  Orient:  North:  PERSIANS. 
3.  Occident:  GREEK,  Immanency.   4.  Occident:  ROMANS,  Apotheosis. 

C— THIRD  CIRCLE  OF  NATIONS:  MEDITERRANEAN  BASIN. 
1.  Ethnical  Composition  in  Roman  Crucible.    2.  Theocratic  State  disintegrating. 
3.  CUSHITO=SEMITIC  Nations.    4.  The  Community  of  the  HEBREWS. 

D— THE  DIVIDE  OF  THE  TIMES. 

1.  Intermediation  postulated,  historically:  Synthesis. 

2.  Intermediation  postulated,  physically:  Sacrifice. 

3.  Intermediation  in  its  ethical  and  aesthetical  effects:  Resurrection. 

E— THIRD  CIRCLE  OF    NATIONS:  POST=AUGUSTEAN  PERIOD. 

1.  ROME  and  the  Church.         2.  Ecclesiastical  Deformation:  BYZANTINE  STATE=CHURCH. 

3.  Church  and  TALMUD.         4.  KORAN:  Islam  and  the  Church. 

F— SECOND  CIRCLE  OF  NATIONS:  INDO=GERMANS.  MEDIEVAL   PERIOD. 

1.  German  Characteristics:   Karl  the  Great.        2.  Principles  developing  European  Civilisation. 

3.  Pope  and  Emperor.         4.  Church^State:  Lamaism. 

Q-FIRST  AND  MOST  PERIPHERAL  CIRCLE  OF  NATIONS:  AGE  OF  MISSIONS. 
1.  Turano'Mongolians  as  bearing  upon  European  Civilisation. 
2.  The  Horizon  widening:  Age  of  Discoveries. 
3.  Germanic  North  and  the  Reform.  4.  The  Counter=Reformation. 

5.  Absolutism  and  Enlightenment;  Dissection  of  the  Thought  of  Humanity. 
6.  Civilization  rendered  Trans-oceanic  7.  Humanism  in  new  distortions. 

8.  Cosmopolitan  World=Theories^  System  of  European  States. 
9.  Humanism  philosophically  conceived  and  sociologically  applied. 
10.  Greek  Catholicism  and  an  Asiatic  Renaissance:  East°European  Aryans. 
11.  Humanistic  Thought  corrupted.  Result:  Ethnical  Chaos. 
12.  Consummation  of  Universal  History. 

BOOK  THIRD:  DILEMMAS  OF  HISTORICS. 

SYLLABUS. 

A-ENIGMATA  OF  HISTORICS. 

1.  Nature-bound  and  Mummified  Peoples.         2.  Paroxysms  of  National  Life. 

3.  Undulations  throughout  International  Life.  4.  Hero=Worship.  5.  The  World's  Government. 

B— RESULTS  OF  HISTORY. 
1.  Progress  under  aspect  of  physico==technical  acquirements. 
2.1ntellectual  advantages  gained. 
3.  Progress  in  Aesthetics.         4.  Advance  in  religio=ethical  matters. 
5.  The  World's  Transition  into  the  State  of  Unity,  Freedom  and  Permanency. 

CONCLUSION. 
A  Consistent  System  of  a  Philosophy  of  History  is  possible;  the  Defects  of  this  notwithstanding. 


CONTENTS. 

Prospective  Remarks.  Place  of  Philos.  of  Hist. among  sciences — Interpretation  of  facts  not 
without  preconceptions — Method  of  investigation  inductive,  but  also  deductive;  imagination 
not  to  be  despised— Naturalistic  concept  of  historic  advance — Application  of  hypotheses 
legitimate,  connecting  inductive  and  deductive  reasoning. 

BOOK  FIRST:  HISTORICS. 
I.  A.  Coefficients  of,  B.  Co°operative  Mode  of  History. 
FIRST  DIVISION.  (I  A)  Relation  of  History  as  a  Science  to  Kindred  Sciences. 
I.  Ch.  Relation  of  Historic  to  Natural  Sciences. 

3  I.  Two  worlds  represented  in  human  nature-Natural  science  disregards  the  spiritual  com- 

ponent— Hegelianism  sublimates  the  data  of  reality— "Light  of  Asia"— Miss  Evans'  "Christ 
Idea" — Anthropography.  Tellurian    contingencies  effect  human  development,   but   not 

beyond  a  certain  limit. 

7  2.  Sidereal  relations  exist — "Zodiac" — Astral  hypothesis — Automatic  evolution — "Dyna- 
mic" mechanism — Seven  riddles  of  Dubois-Reymond— A  philos.  of  hist,  beyond  the  domain  of 
natural  sciences,  in  realm  of  liberty. 

II  Ch.    Relation  of  Phil,  of  Hist,  to  Metaphysics.    (Ch.  5.) 

9         3.     Metaphysical  misconceptions,  false  spirituality:  "Occasionalism" — "Mechanic"   view  as 
'  to  integral  relations  betw.  mind  and  matter — Malebranche,  Descartes,  Leibnitz — Constructive  prin- 
ciple?    "Motion" — Spencer  refuted — Direction  in  motion  indicates  design,  finality — Spencerian 
naturalism  in  ethics:  makes  the  spiritual  "of  no  purpose." 
10         4.     Mechanical  view  of  idealists  criticised — Miracles — Denying  matter  the  capability  of  be- 
coming animated,  makes  the  natural  *  'of  no  purpose."    Sin. 

III  Ch.    Personal  as  Distinguished  from  Natural  Life. 

12  5.  Life  the  constructive  element  of  nature — Barth  partakes  of  sidereal  life — All  natural  is 
confined,  arrested  life, even  the  human  soul;  to  be  delivered  on  conditions. 

14  6.  Evolution  reaches  its  zenith  in  the  human  soul,  then  ceases— Man's  task  to  redeem  na- 
tural life,  which  became  arrested  on  his  account — Personal  spirit  takes  possession  of  the  soul; 
in  this  union  they  constitute  the  "mind" — Ethical  cosmos  immanent  in  the  physical — History 
deals  with  the  world  of  personality  and  permanency,  having  the  purpose  in  itself,  whilst  in 
the  world  of  transiency  nothing,  has  a  purpose  per  se — Nature  is  the  world  of  ''material  unity  un- 
der formal  diversity,"  prone  to  detachment  and  "generalness"— History  tends  to  conduct  the 
world  to  formal  (essential)  unity  under  material  (personal)  diversity." 

15  7.  Phenomena  common  to  both  worlds:  physical  analogies — Examples  of  such  congruities — 
Identity,  reciprocity  and  authority  of  moral  and  natural  law— Duty  deducible  alone  from  the  uni- 
fying process  going  on  in  personal  life,Dorner — Phenomena  of  the  purely  spiritual  world 
are -without  physical  analogies — Grades  of  distinctness — Natural  processes  for  ethical  purposes. 

16  8.  Discrimination  necessary  concerning  the  analogies  entailing  all  earthly  relations — 
Examples  of  terms  promiscuously  and  mischievously  used:  culture,  civih'sation,  freedom, 
liberty,  intuition,  instinct,  Vernunft,  Verstand,  mind — Dual  relationship  of  the  spirit:  only 
one  side  involved  in  earthly  conditions — Consciousness  not  subject  to  limits  of  space  and  time 
— Spirit  an  entity  per  se — Dual  form  of  existence, the  axiom,which,if  recognised,  delineates  the 
biology  of  history. 

20  9-  Retrospect — Data  of  the  genesis  of  higher  grades  in  natural  life,marked  by  miracles — ■ 
Stages  of  revelation— In  the  system  of  the  "apparatus"  (for  the  moral  task)  and  in  the  method  of 
working  it,  the  laws  which  condition  all  previous  development  remain  in  force  in  the  higher 
sphere.  , 

IV  Ch.  Man  the  Synthesis  of  Matter  and  Mind. 

22  10.  Ethics  combines  the  truths  elaborated  by  physical  sciences  and  metaphysics,  adding 
those  also  of  history — Philology  adduces  the  utterances  of  both  worlds — Nature  is  man  potential 
— Human  soul  the  epitome  of  the  universe — Spirit  an  ontogenic  entity  sui  generis  :Herbart.  Lan- 
guage and  nationalities,  Schelling,  Humboldt — Picture -language,  Brugsch.  As  posterior  to  maturi- 
ty of  judgment  language  is  inexplicable — The  re -flection,  re-cognition  of  the  thought  reflect- 
ing from  things;  Herbart — I^anguage  not  the  result  of  rational  reflection;  is  the  spiritual  func- 
tion of  the  person  in  its  entirety — Communication  with  the  "world  of  formal  unity." — "Dead'* 
languages  are  immortal — Birth  of  language:  declaration  of  dominion  over  nature — I^anguage 
akin  to  freedom  of  the  will. 

26  II.  Spiritual  freedom  as  against  natural  necessity — Genesis  of  the  feeling  of  value: 
Conscience  the  plenipotentiary  of  the  sovereign  Absolute  Good;  the  guardian  of  free- 
dom and  personal  dignity — Only  in  this  sphere  freedom  of  the  will  can  prosper — Kinship 
betw.  language  and  conscience — Necessity  and  love— Kinship  of  the  spiritual  entities — Miscre- 
ant use  of  physical  analogies — Unison  betw.  necessity  of  the  Good  with  freedom  and  with  love 
represented  in  love's  emblem:  Sacrifice.  , 

g^  12.  Recapitulation — M.  Mueller  on  dual  nature  of  language —Import  of  philology  upon 
knowledge  of  "human  nature"— Sum  and  substance  of  induction:  cohesion,  continuity  and  unity 
of  consclousness^Deductions  in  prospect:  Man  the  type  of  universal  history — Humanity  a  unit, 
intelligible  only  when  viewed  as  a  totality  —Incitements  from  outside  the  means  of  mental  de- 
velopment— Progress  proceeds  from  the  sphere  of  personality  not  from  that  of  natural  general- 
ness— Apparatus  of  the  ethical  task;  its  import  upon  developing  consciousness — Harmonious 
cultivation  of  faculties — One  sided  culture  at  the  expense  of  cultus. 


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CO  EFFICIENTS    AND  CO-OPERATIVK   MODE  OF  HISTORY.  IX 

13.  Unavailing  methods  in  focusing  a  total  view  of  humanity — Typical  personages:    Joh.  33 
v.  Miller — Impossibility  to  compose  the  thought  of  an   ideal   man,  to  conceive  a  real  proto- 
type of  history— Rousseau— Man  the  type  and  theme  of  history. 

V  Ch.  Philos.  of  History  as  against  Unsatisfactory  Interpretations  of  History.    (Chapt.  i  and  2 )    «5 

14.  Each  empiric  science  of  nature,  language,  law  and  history  has  its  limits,  contains 
some  nescience — Philos.  the  umpire— Aversion  to  predominance  of  metaphysics— Murray. 
— Bowne — Agnosticism  preferring  scepticism  to  certitude;  imposing  a  false  world-theory — 
Synthesis  of  true  monism  to  be  found  in  the  spiritual— Contempt  of  empiricism  by  idealism 
avenged  in  Darwinism — Philos.  the  clearing-house  of  the  sciences,  and  the  candle  holder- 
Division  of  scientific  labor  calls  for  its  organization— Philos.  related  to  sciences  as  the  systems 
of  human  body  are  related  to  the  organism  of  the  individual. 

15.  Decline  of  Philos.  together  with  the  loss  of  esteem  for  Philos.  of  Hist — Cause  of  un-  gg 
popularity  of  spiritual  matters — Intellectualism  identified  with  religion — "Government  of  re- 
ligion" Guizot — Epistemology:Musing  and  thinking — Genesis  of  comprehension — "Unreflected"  ' 
(sub-)  consciousness — Vicissitudes  to  which  ratiocination  is  exposed— Concomitant  faculties 
and  their  co-operative  functions— Herder — Perception,  reflection  and  intuition — New  discover- 
ies but  re-arrangements  of  old  data— An  adjustable  organism  of  systematic  knowledge— Image 
of  nature  in  man;  Scottish  realism;  Daguerre. 

16.  Human  nature  in  its  fallen  state;  comprehension  of  life  in  a  synthesis  made  difficult  aq 
— Hegel's  failure,  from  ignoring  the  fall  and  the  losses — Man's  unfolding  under  specific  topics: 
physically,  psychically,  religiously — Schematic  tabulation  declined— Natural  and  spiritual  ele- 
ments of  human  existence  mirrored  in  hist.— Man  the  type  and  theme  also  of  the  world  of  absolute 
reality. 

SECOND  DIVISION  (I.  B.)  Operative  Mode  of  History. 

Syllabus.  ^^ 

The  means  through  which  hist,  works,  as  far  as  they  are  at  man's  disposal — Influences  of 
environments — Purpose,  movement,  development,  plan  of  hist. 

I  Ch.    Intent  and  Aim  of  History. 

17.  Purpose:  Theory  of  "Occasional  cause"  foundered  at  demonstrating  the  adaptation  of 
motion  to  its  aim  — Human  soul  the  realised  purpose  of  nature — Things  have  a  meaning,  are 
means  for  other  things,  but  have  no  purpose  in  themselves — Illustr:  machine — Genesis  of  the 
concept  of  finality — Value  of  entities  determined  by  their  interrelations — Matter  is  thought  m 
its  process  of  hypostatisation — Design  in  plant-life  unalterable — Agreed  with  natural  science  as 
to  normative  principle — Purport  not  deducible  from  development  of  means  for  an  end;  finality 
underlies  the  organism  as  a  totality. 

18.  Purpose  a  matter  of  totality,  that  of  nature  in  its  totality  is  the  soul:  i.  e.  thought  ob-  4g 
jectivising  itself — Thought,  the  object  in  organisms  is  their  soul;  means,  i.  e.  organs  brought 
forth  in  their  arrangements  for  the  purpose  form  the  body — Mechanical  action  of  life  in  its  self- 
realisation;  self-reproduction  ceases  with  the  attainment  of  its  highest  form,  further  on  its 
purpose  is  disintegration — Henceforth  the  soul  alone  conveys  the  thought  of  finality,  contin- 
ues to  be  of  any  purpose— Hence  the  soul  separable  from  matter— Course  of  the  thought  of 
purpose  through  stages  of  natural,  rational  and  moral  qualifications — Purport  of  nature  to  serve 

as  the  polarity  in  the  spirits  self-substantilisation—  Soul  the  quintessence  of  nature  as  indi- 
vidualised— Its  purpose  is  to  be  the  means  for  the  unification  of  natural  life  with  spiritual  es- 
sence in  personal  life,where  fitness  is  measured  by  the  moral  standard — In  mind  nature  is  to  be 
sublimated  and  obtains  its  personal  value:  True  element  in  Rothe's  ethics — Mind  is  natural 
life  in  its  inseparable  combination  with  the  spirit;  it  finds  its  purpose  in  the  communion  with 
the  world  of  absolute  reality — Immanency  of  purpose  in  history,  thejtnoral  cosmos — Bacon  on 
false  methods  of  deduction  from  purposes  instead  of  induction  from  efficient  causes — Purpose 
per  se. — Droysen's  corroboration  of  this  pregnant  paragraph. 

II  Ch.    Law  of  Historic  Development.  50 

19.  Order  in  which  means  are  employed  to  reach  the  end. — I^awfulness  not  merely  from 
natural  necessity — Do  special  laws  inherent  in  particular  occurences  regulate  them  ? — Fitness 
of  things — Truth  of  "Mechanical"  occasionalism  and  "dynamic"  mechanism  may  be  harmon- 
ised— I^aw  the  power  of  thought  over  matter  and  facts;  declaration  of  reason  of  its  rights  to 
control  them — The  soul's  manifestation  of  its  right  to  live  in  unison  with  the  spirit. — Natural 
law  identical  with  the  moral — Domain  of  lawfulness.— Existence  inconceivable  without  re- 
lativity of  things. — Renouviere*s  corroboration:  new  biological  hypothesis:  an  original 
world  entirely  animated. 

20.  Activity  of  hist,  partly  under  natural  necessity,  partly  in  freedom — Examples  of  52 
nature's  determining  influences  upon  human  destiny — Electro-magnetic  polarisation — Ger- 
minal articulation — "Natural  selection" — Reactions  of  classes  upon  classes,  nation  upon 
nation. — Indications  of  providential  interferences — Rhythm  of  epochal  oscillations — Physical 
lawfulness  powerless  after  a  certain  limit  is  reached — Explorers,Reformers— Inquiry  concerned 
with  the  plan  of  history.  % 

III  Ch.  Historic  Movement.  Natural   Corollaries. — 

21.  "Motion"  per  se  implies  no  aim,  but  development   does — Organic   world   alone   de- ^^ 
velops — Firmament:  emblem  of  absolute  rest — Force   in   motion   is   life's   self-assertion,   sub- 
stantiating itself  by  virtue  of  the  purpose  to  establish   relations — The   purposive    thought 
liberates  forces  as  means  of   materialising  itself — Generation  of  force  In  social    organisms. 


X  OPERATIVE   MODK   OF   HISTORY. 

Powers  dormant  in  nature-bound  races — **Fluxion"  of  Newton — Life:  process  of  self  renewal — 
Import  of  rest,  i.  e,  latent  motion,  as  applied  to  ethnical  movements:  Zoellner. — Peoples  with 
arrested  cultures  rest,  preparatory  to  future  activit}', perhaps  for  purposes  of  reviving  others — 
Contrast  of  expansive  strain  and  condensive  pressure;  energy  and  apathy  forming  the  tension 
of  polarity;  a  synthetic  formula,  perhaps  for  the  cognitions  time  and  space.    Bowne. 

58  22.     Tranquil  progress  propelled  by  alternating  counteractions   in  the   undercurrents  of 

hist. — Ethnical  movements  of  this  kind  indicated  by  layers  of  languages — Physico-historic 
progress,  straight  line;  cultural  advance,  wave-line — Circular  movement  tantamount  to  a 
standstill.  Culture  advances  in  spiral^helically  corresponding  curves  wherein  freedom  comes  to  its 
right — Hist,  not  calculable  from  statistical  figures — Materialistic  concept  of  hist,  without  anal- 
ogy in  the  laws  of  mechanics.  Lotze— Free  will  as  against  blind  "fate" — Under  aspect  of  "dy- 
namics" hist,  remains  incomprehensible,  because  man  is  not  the  product  of  the  elements. 

60         IV  Ch.    Means  of  Historic  Development.    Mind's  Interaction. — 

23.  Distinguishing  movement  from  development,  which  only  pertains  to  organic  life — 
Evolution  limited  by  decadence  and  decomposition  —Ascent  and  descent  in  organic  life:  arch- 
line— Permanent  disposition  (national  temperament,etc.)in  the  ethnical  world:  horizontal  lines  — 
These  lines  are  of  partly  natural  inclinations  and  partly  real  mind  life  intersected  by  vertical  line: 
men  excelling  in  energy  and  ingenuity-Guizot's  definition  of  civilisation-Natural  and  historical 
evolution  analogous — La  Place's  theory:  detachment,  departure  towards  selfhood — Tendency  of 
the  purpose  unfolding  itself — Differentiation  caused  by  division  of  labor  among  specially 
adapted  organs — In  the  tendency  to  selfhood  the  character  of  membership  is  never  lost,  not 
evan  in  the  highest  developed  organism. 

62  24.  In  the  social  differentiation  the  organism  becomes  an  organisation — Genesis  of  na- 
tionalities— Three  periods  of  physico-psychical  development — First:  colonial  life;  folk-lore — 
Cultural  degree  of  the  future  nations  depends  upon  higher  or  mean  recognition  'of  the  deity, 
to  which  every  detail  of  existence  is  related — Second:  Traditions  distorted,  symbols  of  primi- 
tive truths  and  of  subsequent  picture-thinking  misunderstood,  will  cause  I,  idolatry;  2,  my- 
thology— Relative  good  in  nature  made  a  surrogate  for  the  Supreme  Good — Perversion  of 
inner  remnants  of  religiousness  finally  renders  most  abject  depravity  religious — Reminiscence» 
of  human  unity  applied  in  founding  world-empires — Third:  Authority  questioned — Thought- 
ful people  withdraw  from  the  masses — Subjectivism;Class-hatred — Invention  of  an  indifferent 
deity — Differentiation  outruns  itself — The  purpose  safe  with  certain  barbarians — Limit  of  natu« 
ral,  cultural  development,  analogous  to  plant-life,  which  includes  decline — The  line  drawn  where^ 
the  deepest  but  empiric  relations  to  the  world  of* 'formal  unity"  begin — New  series  of  develop- 
ment, pertaining  to  religious  life,  the  most  personal  matter — Attention  to  be  chiefly  engaged 
with  the  results  of  the  interaction  betw.    physico-historical  and  purely  personal   development,, 

^         VCh.    Plan  of  History. 

25.  Reason  in  hist  ;  sense  to  be  adduced  from  without — Plan  not  to  be  discovered  by 
analysing  co-efl5cients,  but  by  way  of  logics,  i.  e.  by  establishing  their  relations — Illustr  : 
Architect,  plan,  building,  and  beholder — Motif  and  plan  (design)  inherent  in  plant -life — So 
in  hist,  plan  partly  inherent,  self-developing;  partly  exterior  objective  guidance — r  Part  of 
the  plan  inherent;  provided  there  is  one  typical  man  conveying  within  him  the  type  and  de- 
sign of  hist,  which  is  but  man  unfolded;  provided,  possibilities  of  abnormal  development — 
2  Part  of  the  plan  in  thought,  objective;  "Fore-thought"  the  postulate  of  reason. 

BOOK  SECOND. 
71  Syllabus. 

II.  A.  Turano-Malayans,  Ugro-Tatars.  II.  B.  Aryans:  Hindo-Iranians,  Graeco-Romans, 
Indo-Germans.  II.  C  Mediterranean  Basin;  Cushito-Semites;  Hebrews.  II.  D.  Concentric 
Middle.  Theme  of  Hist,  appears  at  the  Divide  of  the  Times.  Solution  of  all  problems.  Pivot- 
point  of  History.  II.  E.  Roman  orbit:  pervaded  by  Christianity.  II.  F.  Indo-Europeans, 
transformed  under  strains  of  orient-occidental  forms  of  consciousness.  II.  G.  Age  of  celerity 
and  of  Missions,  ^ra  of  organising  the  realm  of  unity,  perpetuity  and  perfection. 
The  plan  evinced  through  history  indicates  this  arrangement  of  the  hist,  material. 
FIRST  DIVISION.     (II.  A.)    Great  Pre-Historic  Substructure  of  History.    Polarities. 

First  Circle  of  Nations:    Turanians. 
»j^         I  Ch.     Scenery:  1.  Celestial  Background. 

26.  Man  related  to  the  celestial  as  well  as  to  terrestrial  worlds;  issue  of  both  and  center 
of  the  universe— Illustr:  Pyramid — Mind,  history,  heaven — Sidereal  conditions  directly  bearing 
upon  human  interests — Man  with  his  story  and  the  visible  universe  committed  to  each  other — 
His  central  position  not  fortified  by  the  illusory  idea  of  inhabitable  stars;  neither 
weakened  by  quantitative  insignificance— Thought  more  than  equivalent  to  the  vastness  of 
dimensions — Man  the  microcosm  as  contemplated  by  the  natural  philosophy  of  by-gone  times: 
Zodiac,  Kabala — Experiments  leading  Kepler  to  the  "equation  of  the  center." 

75  27.    Cosmos,  the  reflex  of  the  higher  world  of  true   reality,  a  system  of  substantialised 

thought— Kant's  categories,  the  regulative  and  eternal  laws  of  thinking  imprinted  into  the 
cosmos— The  precipitate  of  thought— The  universe,  despite  its  nascency,  consists  of  mere 
stuff  in  dead  motion  —Spectral  analysis,  the  "chemistry  of  the  heavens:"  "world  of  material 
unity"— Unprofitable  hypothesis  of  the  inhabitability  of  the  stars  not  harmless— A  better  hypo- 
thesis—Earth  man's  own  universe,  belonging  to  him — The  blossom  of  creation  and  its  crown — 
Human  body  is  the  scion  of  heaven  and  earth,  hence  both  influence  history. 


GREAT  PKE-HISTORIC  SUBSTRUCTURE  OF  HISTORY.  XI 

I!  Ch.    Stage-scenery:  Terrestrial  Back-ground.  77 

28.  La  Place's  hypothesis:  continual  detachment;  differentiation  the  fixed  tendency  of 
nature— Formation  of  the  globe;  Werner — The  earth's  history  repeats  itself  in  history  proper, 
but  no  further  than  human  biography  is  involved  in  nature's  nascency.  _p 

29.  The  globe  firm,  its  surface  still  changing;  Lyell— Historj  interested  in   the   articulate  *° 
formation  of  the  earth's  surface,  to  a  certain  extent— Teleological   view  upon  the  geographical 
differentiation— Ritter's    overzealous    teleology— Formation  of  Asia  and  Africa — Riddles    of 
anthropography.  .     .         .       ^,  .  «,  .    7Q 

30.  Remarkable  instances  of  symmetry — African -Asiatic  axis — The  two   Americas— This  ' 
symmetry  has  no  significant   bearing  upon   hist. — Axis  of  the    Asiatic-European   system   of 
mountains  and  African- Asiatic  chain  of  deserts— Common   axis  poising   upon  Bolor-Tagh— 
System  of  oceans— Articulation  of  coast-line— Three  Mediterranean  gulfs. 

III  Ch.     Remnants  of  Pre=historic  Man.    Lecality  of  his  Origin.  81 

31.  Chinese  apperception  as  to  the  universe— Astral,  mundane,  historic  sphereoids— 
"Fossil  man."  Lyell— Man's  existence  in  the  tertiary  period  not  established— Dar winistic 
"Descent  of  man"  refuted;  J.  Ranke.  Virchow — Better  to  meditate  upon  "destiny  of  man" — 
Lake-dwellers.     Keller— Stone,  bronze,  iron   ages— Definite  chronology  irrelevant. 

32.  Region  most  favorable  to  evolution— Untenable  suppositions— One  common  origin—  o^ 
Pure  fountain-head.  Racial  changes — "Lemuria"  affirms  the  scientific  postulate  of  one   com- 
mon home.  ,       ,  CO 

33.  Humanity  a  connection  not  a  collection— Our  method  m  the  search   after  the   *'Syn-  °^ 
thesis;"   Illustr.    lock  and  key— Unity  of  the  race  axiomatic  conclusion  from   induction— Full 
knowledge  possible, despite  Hamilton. 

IV  Ch.    Original  man.   One  common  Source.  Language,  Right,  Religion.  §4 

34.  Proofs  of  unity  of  the  human  family— One  original  language— After  nature  had 
assumed  its  present  form,  development  continued  solely  in  the  invisible  world  of  mind-life. 
Identity  of  American  Indians  with  Asiatics  proves  unity  of  humanity— "Meander  crosses"— 
Common  mental  endowments  insufficient  to  explain  prefixes,sufflxes,etc. — Import  of  Sanskrit: 
M.  Müller  on  Pentecost — Import  of  missionary  work  upon  philology:  Klaproth — One  universal 
language  to  be  anticipated— Idea  of  right  possessed  by  all  men— Universality  of  religious- 
ness bespeaks  the  oneness  of  humanity— M.  Mueller  on  "Origin  of  Religion"— Imagination 
(source  of  religion  ?)  never  surpasses  the  compass  of  perception— Want  creates  no  conscious- 
ness of  the  Divine,  but  reminiscence  of  the  Good  does— Self-made  religion  ."Dog -philosophy" 
Kingsley    (Hypatia)  — Religion  the  basis  of  every  culture. 

35.  Hypothetical:  "God  is"-Origin  of  religion  in  a  positive  thought-Ontogeneity— Found-  87 
ed  in  empiricism — Not  a  matter  of  mere  intellect — God  keeps  on  speaking  terms  with  man — 
Conscientious  promptings  not  of  natural  growth,  not  from  centrifugal  tendency  wfiich  they 
oppose — Conscience  not  in  the  first  place  the  religious,  but  moral  phase  of  consciousness — 
Re-cognition  of  the  "image" — Religion  revealed  from  the  central  source;  natural  religion 
starts  from  the  circumference— False  premises  of  evolution  as  to  religion— It  makes  its  way 
through  hist,  as  a  principle  of  personality, in  the  direction  of  concentric  intensification — Postu- 
late of  one  typical  person — Illustr:  Key-stone  bearing  all  the  strain  of  the  cross-vault. 

V  Ch.    A  First  Man.    The  Hieroglyph  of  History.—  gg 

36.  Alone  in  him  may  solution  of  life's  problems  be  found — Bridge  between  two  worlds — 
Key  to  history,  "the  web  in  which  necessity  forms  the  warp  and  freedom  the  woof" — One  first 
man  as  feasible  as  the  proto-plasm  in  the  interest  of  natural  science;  the  postulate  not  an  un- 
scientific demand  in  the  interest  of  humanism — Symbolic  presentation  of  the  postulate  at  the 
entrance  of  various  nations  into  history. 

37.  The  spiritual  constituent  of  the  first  man  must  be  the  microcosm  of  the  spiritual  world— Mind:  90 
illustr.  by  the  dim  light  in  a  treasury  vault;  Fortlage —Zschokke's    "Central  Vision"— The  "soul" 

is  more  than  what  we  are  conscious  of — Duality  of  mind's  relations  causes  two  forms  of  con- 
sciousness: "Reflecting"  and  "unreflected"  (or  sub-)  consciousness — Both  sides  generically  differ- 
ent— Illustr:  two  adjoining  rooms — Head;  heart;  the  place  of  contact  with  the  spiritual  world — 
Anthropology  of  Fichte. 

38.  Phenomena  of  abnormal  condition  of  nerves— Man  passive  under  mysterious  powers,  93 
a  patient — "Rudimentary"  faculties  dormant  in  human  nature:  visionary  flash;  ecstatic  grasp — 
"Telepathy" — Development  pledged,  short  only  of  absolute  perfection — In  what  sense  man  is 
created  perfect — The  gifts  delineate  the  ethical  process,  prescribe  man's  ethical  task.  (Gaben- 
Aufgaben)— Man  to  elevate  nature— Engaged  in  setting  free  nature's  potentialities,  man's  own  are 
set  free. 

39.  Practicing  at  the  apparatus  in  co-operation  and  concurrence  with  the  divine  plan  95 
overt  in  nature— Man  to  deliver  confined  life  to  his  own  advantage— Task  and  significance  of  true 
culture — The  goal  of  complete  transformation — The  calamity  of  the  fall  not  to  be  blamed  up- 
on the  duality  of  the  mind — Polarity  betw.  nature  and  spirit  works  beneficently  after  the  fall 
— Polarity  betw.  masculine  and  feminine  principles  latent  in  first  man — Man  less  perfect  and 
more  natural  than  what  Lotze  imagined — Questions  not  to  be  solved  unless  full  self-knowledge 
has  been  gained,  which  begins  with  the  consciousness  of  the  effects  of  the  fall,  and  becomes 
complete  when  the  issues  of  the  conflict  appear — Instead  of  unity  and  quality  we  are  confronted 
by  a  multiplicity  in  conflict — Full  recognition  of  man's  wretchedness  only  possible  at  a  point 
where  depravity  becomes  undeniable  and  inexcusable. 


Xn  I     A.      SUBSTRUCTURE   OF   HISTORY. 

VI  Ch.    The  Great  Calamity  and  the  Catastrophes. 

40.  Nature  of  the  bad— Confined  life  of  nature-bound  people — Bastian— Preparation  for 
the  answer  which  lies  in  that  which  *'ought  not  to  be:"{Schelling) — Matter  not  the  cause  of  the 
trouble— Immanency  of  thought  in  substance  thrown  out  of  balance — Nature  insubordinate  to 
man — Rent  through  the  human  soul  extends  throughout  nature — Conditions  in  nature  and 
nations  defying  eyery  idea' of  purposeness — Gloomy  moods  of  mind  echo  the  reproachful 
sighings  of  the  creature — Mysterious  phenomena  of  darkness — Cazotte's  predictions— Human 
sacrifices  not  explicable  from  natural  grounds— Droysen  on  sin— The  lie— The  Bad  living  off  the 
good  proves  its  reality— Refutations  of  false  tenets  concerning  the  bad,  which  is  not  the  foil 
rendering  theGood  the  more  brilliant— Leibnitz— Schelling. 
QQ  41.     Origin  of  the  Bad— "Anxious  suspense";  Lotze— Pseudo-culture  attempts  to  neutralise 

the  reproaches  of  conscience — Denial  makes  sin  more  dangerous,  aggravates  guilt— Consci- 
ence is  but  manifesting  the  right  of  the  Good  to  reclaim  man  for  participating  in  the  enjoy- 
ment of  its  reality,  but  demands  expiation — Physical  origin  of  the  Bad — Buckle;  Droysen. — Re- 
ferring it  to  the  moral  realm;  Rothe — Indestructibility  of  moral  elements— Materialism  attempts 
to  destroy  ideals,  to  supplant  other  regulatives;  failing  therein  it  serves  the  firmer  to  establish 
the  Good,  the  Beautiful  and  the  True— What  the  Bad  is  not— It  is  a  will— What  the  Good  is— Feat- 
ures of  the  perverse  will;  investigation  as  to  its  origin  postponed — Depravity  of  human  nature 
is  alien  to  its  essence;  belongs  not  to  its  type— Great  rupture  a  historical  fact,  which  must  have 
occured  in  the  spiritual,  not  the  sensuous  part  of  existence;  in  consciousness  prior  to  the  con- 
fusion of  languages — Schelling — Spiritual  relation  torn  asunder— God-consciousness  utterly  cor- 
rupted— Humanity  fell  into  the  sphere  where  detachment  is  the  order  of  things — The  catas- 
trophe which  must  have  preceded  the  dispersion — The  old  way  of  explaining  heathenism: 
Burnouf— Brugsh — Ebrard— Gushing- Prescott — W.  v.  Humboldt — Savagery  not  the  primitive  state. 

2Q2  42.  Indications  of  the  great  calamity — Remnantsof  original  God-consciousness;  overshad- 
owed by  world-consciousness  gained  in  the  diversions  of  worldly  culture — Weakened  remnants, 
yet  strongly  remind  man  of  returning  from  centrifugal  diversions  to  center;  they  alone  war- 
rant a  reunion  of  the  human  family — Apostasy  originated  in  the  spiritual  side — Its  consequences: 
losses— "Con-tent  ment"  gone — Rent  through  man's  inner  nature  extends  to  nature's  totality — 
Deification  of  the  secondary  good— Polytheism:  exertions  in  self-salvation— Traditions,  "family- 
heirlooms,"  etc.  mixed  into  self-made  religions— Heathendom  ancient  and  moderns-Genesis  of 
pantheism — Gnosticism  the  transitory  step  betw.  polytheism  and  pantheism,  which  attempts 
to  restore  the  lost  union  by  natural  generalness — Confessions  of  hximanity  in  its  sacred  writings. 

X04  43*     Empiric  proofs  of  centrifugal  and  downward  inclinations — Visible  things  seem  nearer 

and  more  necessary— Secondary  good  not  at  fault  in  the  disappointments — Certain  frightful  shad- 
ows arise  from  the  demoralised  duality  of  the  inner  nature— Idols  inadvertently  established  as 
"centers  of  cohesion;"  hence  polytheism  instrumental  in  self  preservation — Remembrances  of 
original  unity,  of  dominion,  of  "something  better;"  of  immortality — After  objectivising  all 
possible  idiosyncracies  the  state  and  its  representative  is  deified— Personality  lost  with  the  knowl- 
edge of  one  personal  God — The  apostasy  neither  physical  nor  rational,  but  moral,  outward  evils 
resulting  not  bad  but  salutary,  as  disciplinary  measures— Religious  undercurrents  determine 
the  shape  of  every  age  and  nation — Environments  assist  in  molding  character — Man  under 
the  law  of  natural  necessity — Influences  from  transeunt  worlds  of  light  and  darkness — Neces- 
sary to  discriminate  betw.  the  influential  factors. 

105         Vn  Ch.    Genesis  of  Mythological  Religiousness. 

44.  In  refutation  of  "evolved"  religion — Natural  science  illicitly  appropriates  principles 
alien  to  it — Conditions  of  fornmlating  theories  on  mythology;  Adrian — Perverted  traditions, 
ruins  of  primitive  revelations  mixed  with  fear  of  ghosts,  with  misconceived  inner  remnants  of 
God-consciousness  and  corrupted  external  traditions — Religious  cravings  to  be  satisfied  by 
acts,  not  ideas— Remnants  of  truth  always  separable  from  superstitious  perversions — Discrep- 
ancies betw.  life  and  thought  call  forth  reflections  upon  them — Esoteric  theories  to  keep  the 
masses  in  subjection — Religio-historic  memory  awakens,  rendering  nations  historical;  only  then 
are  myths  formulated — All  forms  of  life  arranged  in  conformity  with  the  conception  of  the  deity 
— Historic  nations  alone  have  myths  with  distinctive  ingredients — Myths  not  parental  to  religion 
—As  truths  are  interspersed  with  superstitions,  so  superstition  always  clings  to  advanced  cul- 
ture which  is  never  able  to  abolish  it. 

107  45.     Fear  produces  no  deities  but  demons — Genesis  of  Shamanism:     in    comparison  with 

the  sorcery,  fetishism  and  most  debased  form  of  ancestor-worship  mythical  religion  is 
far  in  advance — Fear  not  the  parent  of  faith !  Feeling  of  an  unknown  God  called  forth  fear — 
Shintoism,  the  primitive  form  of  ancestor-worship;  witnessing  to  original  knowledge  of  immor- 
tality— Shamanism,  corruption  of  the  former,  spreads  as  demonolatry  and  snake-worship,  in- 
fects all  subsequent  mythology — Fetishism,  snake-worship  in  India;  Schlagintweit;  in  America: 
Peet;  Necromancy — "Feidicos"  of  the  Portugese;  M.  Mueller— Hob  goblins — Fetishism  in  the 
church  not  of  biblical,  but  of  Hamito-Semitic  origin — Instances  of  such  travesties  upon  ec- 
clesiastical religiousness: Motley;  M.  Mueller;  Ranke  —Snake- worship  brought  to  America  by  black, 
red,  yellow  and  white  men — No  human  being  below  salvation  despite  such  aberrations. 

110  46.  Materialistic  monism,  deifies  force-substance,  disparages  and  depreciates  personal 
life — Malthusian  theory  and  Darwinism:  related  to  feticism  and  feticide — Virchow  and  Tyndall 
discountenance  socialism  as  the  practical  attempt  to  supplant  Christianity  by  its  dogmatistical 
world-theory — Evolutionism,  superstitious  in  itself,  is  not  qualified  to  displace  superstition 
— Intellectualism  utilized  in,  and  hated  for  its  class-rule — Psychical  and  traditional  elements 
in    the    quasi-religion      of   fear:     night,    death,   the    serpent — Myths   are    but  attempts  at 


I   A.       SUBSTRUCTURE)   OF   HISTORY.  XIH 

formulating  some  ideal  world-consciousuess — Difficulties  of  arranging  a  method  of  natural 
religiousness— Wandering  and  shifting  notions  as  well  as  "fixed  ideas"  in  self-made  religions. 

VIII  Ch.    Classification  of  the  Ethnical  Material. 

47.  Regions  to  which  the  separation  of  the  races  is  traceable — Migrating  through  the  two  112 
mountain-passes  of  the  Pamir-plateau  and  Tarim-basin — Remusat — Eastern  Mongolians — 
American  Indians,  A.  v.  Humboldt;  Malayans  of  the  Pacific  islands  and  of  the  South-Sea — Rem- 
nants of  the  most  antique  and  permanent  culture — Hamito-Cushites  spread  over  the  south; 
Lepsius — Legends  of  the  Kohls— Sumero-Accadians  and  Phenicians  form  the  basis  of  Chaldean 
culture — Semites— Khittas  (,  Hittites, ) 

48.  Remnants  of  Aryan  stock  in  Central-Asia;  Schlagintweit — Sanskrit-Zend-nations:  east- 
ern wing — Celts  ( Gaulish)  Slavs  Graeco-Romans,  Indo-Germans:  western  wing — Ethnical  114 
chaos  of  Africa— Kaffirs  (of  Hebrew  extraction?)  Second  inundation:  Hottentots  — Identity  of 
the  Shagga,  Mazimba  and  Galla;  Merensky — Movements  of  Fellatah  and  Tuaregs — Somali  rath- 
er Caucasians— Scene  in  Kartoom— Slave-trade:  Livingstone,  Vogel —Anthropophagy  connected 
with  snake-and  ancestor-worship;    not  explicable  on  grounds  of  evolutionism. 

49.  America's  aborigines — Natives  prior  to  Toltecs  and  Aztecs — Mound-builders  prior  to  117 
cliff-dwellers — Holmes.    Charney — Toltecs  offered  flowers ;  Aztecs  made  human  sacrifices — Boto- 
kudeSjChinese:  Pritchard,  Morton — Martins   on   degeneracy— Tasmaniens — Asiatic  origin   of  all 
races,  Bonwick — Aim  of  this  ethnographic  outline  —In  keeping  with  cyclical  courses  of  history, 
progress  retiirns  to  the  starting  point,  geographically. 

IX  Ch.    Differentiation  of  the  Ethnical  Mass. 

50.  Analysis  establishes  the  unity  of  humanity  in   diversity  of  races.    Rules  therefore.  ^^° 
Illustr:    Archaeological  explorer  at  work,   where  antiquities   were  preserved — Cultured   and 
retarded  parts  of  the  race— The   latter  not  unimportant — Another  criterion  for  classification — 
Cryptogams — People   disqualified  for  active  participation  in  historic  progress — Masses  utilised 

by  few  select  workers— Measure  for  value  of  usefulness — Race-divisions. 

51.  Ethnical  debris  still  bears  interest — Illust:   Connection  of  Cordilleras  with  row  of-«- 
Pacific  islands — Import  of  "animated  petrifactions"  upon  study  of  languages — No  dead    mate-  ^"^ 
rial  in  the  totality  of  the  human  race — That  which  "ought  not  to  be"  found  everywhere,  but 
pressure  of  environments  lacking — Classification  into  cultured  and  uncultured  people  of  no 
avail. 

X  Ch.    Polar  Tensions  (three  sets)  Differentiating  the  First  Circle  of  Nations.  ^23 

52.  Primitive  society  compared  with  a  chemical  compound — Illustr.:  Electrosis — Natural 
and  spiritual  blending  in  man,  renders  the  natural  part  subordinate  and  passive,  whereby 
death  becomes  possible — Tension  betw.  spirit  and  nature — Change  of  consciousness  according 
to  the  preponderance  of  either  constituent  part — Polarity  of  exerted  and  received  influences: 
masculine  and  feminine  temperaments— Turano-Mongolians — Native  home,  ethnical  divide. 
Richthofen — Antiquity  of  Chinese  government — Seclusion  of  Eastern  Mongolians. 

XI  Ch.    Turano°Mongolian  Culture.   Eastern  Semi-Circle. 

53.  Yenissei-inscriptions,  Remusat— Age  and  wealth  of  Chinese  literature.  Gabelentz —  125 
China's  "arrested  life."  Richthofen — Causes  of  unfitness  for  abstract  reasoning.  Imperial  Shinto- 
ism. — Taoism,  mixture  of  primitive  tradition  with  Sabism;  V.  v.  Strauss — Attempts  to  establish  a 
center  of  unity  and  continuity — Cause  of  tolerance — Reminiscences  of  nomade-life  in  style  of 
architecture — Secret  of  Chinese  peculiarities — Chinese  drill  in  conduct;  typical  clannishness — • 
Lacquer  of  good  behavior,  inner  barbarism. 

54.  Cultus  always  source  of  national  character — Scene  in  Peking.  Imperial  religion — 128 
Buddhistic  layer  over  Taoism;  over  Shintoisra  in  Japan:  Kami-cult — Shinto  mirrors  and  Bud- 
dha altars — Religion  and  world-consciousness  in  their  artistic  representations — Darkness  not 
essential  to  the  soul — Search  after  truth,  i.  e.,  dissatisfaction  with  superstition  rendered  the 
introduction  of  Buddhism  possible— "Great  Asiatic  Reform"— Buddhism  much  esteemed— Dalai 
Lama,  pope  of  Asia — Pantheon  of  Lamaism  in  Tibet  (Nestorianism) — Picture  of  Buddha ,Ivaot-se, 
Confut-se  eating  from  the  same  pot:  Bastian — Secret  of  pantheo-governmental  tolerance  and 
indifference  of  subjects — Sameness  of  all  MongolO'Malayans:  Fear  of  ghosts,  snake-worship — First 
immigrants  of  America;mounds  built  in  snake-lines.  Peet — Dragon  the  escutcheon  of  China, 
rattle  snake  of  Mexico — Most  loathsome  picture  of  death  in  Maya-manuscript  (Diego  do  Lando) 

— Inka  empire — Sun-service  always  remainder  of  Monotheism — Inka  rulers  :  plowing  a  furrow 
in  honor  of  the  sun-god — Indications  that  snake-worship  and  human  sacrifices,  together  with 
fear  of  death  are  to  be  reduced  to  the  same  source.  Squire — Rise  of  the  rites  of  scalping  and 
anthropophagy. 

XH  Ch.  Tnrano-Mongolian  World:  Western  Semi-Circle. 

55  Num:  monotheistic  remnants  among  Samoiedes.  B.  v.  Struve— Fear  of  death  equal  ^^^ 
with  Yacutes  as  with  Austral-negroes — Hypnotised  shamanists. — Tatars.  Coniurors  fighting 
off  souls  of  the  departed,  embellished  with  dead  snakes — Fetishes  of  the  Lapps,  Nordenskioeld — 
Finnish  monotheism — Invasions  into  Europe.  (Ritter) — A  Mongolian  settling  European  pro- 
blems— Life  at  Attila's  court — Three  other  Mongolians — Seldjukkians — Germans  avert  the 
absorption  of  Europe  by  Asiatics — Mental  superiority  wards  off"  savages — Dgengis  Khan 
acknowledges  advantages  of  monotheism — His  merits  as  to  the  cultural  advance  in  Asia — 
Samarkand— Timur:  Lama  and  Allah. — Resume:  Sun-worship— Character  of  Chinese  culture — 
Its  tendency  to  natural  generaln ess  Wuttke — Results  of  Buddhism;  amounts  to  entire  extinc  - 
tion  ;M.  Mueller — The  Bad  objectivised,fastened  to  something  external— Common  dismay  leave« 
no  room  for  sympathy  with  the  misery  of  others-Pantheistic  theorisings  utilised  by  despotism. 


xrv  .  n  B.     SECOND  circIv:^  of  nations.    Aryans. 

—Mind  surrenders  in  despair  to  fear  of  death  and  ghosts —  Tradition  of  sacrifice 
turned  into  dreadful  rites;  tradition  about  the  serpent  turned  into  demonolatry  of  Shamanism 
— Vestiges  of  monotheism  in  sacred  traditions  and  inner  reminiscences  preserve  cultural  as- 
pirations, create  historic  sense — Traces  of  truth  in  traditional  religiousness  and  their  subver- 
sions—Speculative heathenism  brings  forth  pantheism,  the  systematised  compromise  with  polytheism — 
The  object  of  applied  pantheism— Hieratic  rule  in  Hlassa;  Prschewalsky. 
133  56.  Resume:  Mongolian  world-consciousness  in  art — Mechanical  activity — ^sthetical 
products  excite  abhorrence — Patriarchal  authority  perverted  into  despotism-Rousseau,  Guizot. 
Drilling  by  state-machinery— State-theocracies— Abject  servility,  enuring  nations  to  endure  op- 
pression— Lessons  drawn  from  Chinese  culture — Misanthropy-  Dangers  of  identifying  religion  with 
cold  intellectualism — Man  treated  as  a  natural  force  causes  anarchistic  explosions — Fundamental 
error  in  any  pantheistic  world-theory — Clannishness — Substratum  of  West-Aryan  culture. 

SECOND  DIVISION,  (II  B  )  Second  Circle  of  Nations.     Aryans. 
y^Q  Syllabus. 

Nations  reared  upon  the  natural  basts  of  the  first  circle — Pamir  regions — Controversies  as 
to  the  home  of  the  Aryans — Yenissei-inscriptions,  pre-Mongolian? — Iwanowsky's  similar  in- 
scriptions south  of  the  Altai — Richthofen  and  Jadrinzew  meet  the  objections  as  to  climatic 
conditions  of  the  Pamir. 

137        I  Ch.    Orient,  Right  Wing.    Southern  Part:  1.  Hindoos. 

57.  Separation  from  Iranians — Rig-veda — Brahmins  — Kapila  philosophises — Priests  for- 
bid warriors  to  approach  the  gods  without  their  intercession  -Mahabharada— Sanskrit  litera- 
ture— Aryan  life  born  under  pains  of  religious  misunderstandings — Four  periods:  i.  Varuna, 
monotheistic — Guilt  vividly  felt — Knowledge  of  man's  dual  nature —  2.  Indra:  esoteric,  poly- 
theistic— Phases  of  nature  personified,  ancestor-worship — Reading  of  scriptures  forbidden — 
Liturgical  rites — Pantheism-compromise  betw.  esoteric  theology  and  philosophy —  3.  Brahma. 
Atma-Choda:  world  soul — Religion  rationalised,  intellectualism— Identity-philosophy:  Choda- 
Nirwana — Pantheism  invites  oppression — Mysticism  associates  with  scepticism  to  oppose 
priestly  arrogance — Ethics  of  the  Bhagavad-Gita — Subjectivism —  4.  Sutra — Sectarianism,  vul- 
gar polytheism — Three  chief  systems:  i.  Yoga —  2.  Njaja:  Buddhism:  Kanada,  atomistic;  Vedan- 
ta,  monistic —  3.  Sankhyia,  dualistic;  Prakriti:  metempsychosis,  from  which  Nirwana  is  deemed 
the  salvation;  Purranas — Hindooism  not  the  stage  of  awakening  God-consciousness,  but  the 
stage  of  its  expiring — Mental- spiritual  activity  mistaken  for  spirituality  and  religion — God  the 
substance  from  which  the  universe  emanates,  matter  the  substance  from  which  the  mind 
evolves — Felicity  of  agnosticism, 

142  58.  Buddhism  Dismantled.  Buddha:  St.  Jehoshaphat—Bnmouf— Lassen— "Light  of  Asia"  Ar- 
nold—Pessimism — Orientalism  disseminated— Heartlessness  of  nature-bound  men — Scene  on  the 
Ganges — Human  life  thrown  away  to  deified  crocodiles:  for  conscience's  sake — Hindu-mind 
analysed;  destitute  of  historic  sense — Products  of  phantasy — Even  mathematical  sciences  in  the 
garb  of  poetry — A  fancy-world — Phantasmagories  represented  in  baroque  style  of  pagodas — 
Weird  phenomena  rise  from  the  occult  substratum — Intellectualism  unable  to  cope  with  super- 
stition, of  which  the  educated  partake — Anthropophagy  of  Fakirs  in  Benares — Phenomena 
not  explicable  on  natural  grounds — Criterion  of  ethical  value  and  ethnical  temperament  of 
a  nation  given  in  its  religion— Indestructible  remnants  of  original  religiousness- Recapitula- 

146tion :  Incarnation. 

II  Ch.    Aryans  of  the  Orient,  Right  Wing.    Northern  Part:  2.  Persians. 

59.  Iran — Friends  of  Varuna-Indra  separate  from  those  of  Mithra — Remnants  of  common 
traditions— Religious  cause  of  estrangement:  Hindoos :deva,  deus — Persians:  dews,  devils — 
Characters  at  variance — Ahuramazda,  monotheistic — Resistance  of  the  bad — Indra  and  Hindoos 
more  to  Greek  taste;  Mithra  and  Persians  akin  to  Roman  trend  of  mind — Universal  humanism 
propagated:  Zend-Avesta  (Spiegel)  in  contrast  with  Hindooish  all-the-sameness — Dualism:  To 
fight  Angromaingus,  ideal  of  warfare — Truthful  and  chaste — Cause  of  cultural  collapse:  signifi- 
cance of  the  bad  minimised,  by  objectivizing  it — Moral  strictness  gives  way  to  extravagance  and 
effeminacy — Centralisation  of  power  changes  national  character — Cyrus  going  to  worship — His 
retinue  to  picture  the  Heavenly  Kingdom — Absence  of  temple  ruins — The  spiritually  transcen- 
dental; conceived  as  immanent  in  historic  reality — Susa-Sardes — Zoroasters  religion  corrupted 
— Parsism — Nestorians  influential— Ormuzd  revived — Merits  of  Persian  culture— No  brooding 
over  the  chasm  betw.  matter  and  mind,  but  fighting  the  bad — Summary:  Inductive  data  from 
East-Aryan  life— Anticipation  of  the  Divine  as  condescending  to  dwell  in  this  smful  world, 

149  which  Asia  views  from  points  of  Transcendentaliem. 

III  Ch.    Occident,  Left  Wing  of  Aryans.  I.  Greeks. 

60.  Wardens  of  remnants  of  universal  revelation.  Hamito-Semitic  wedge  driven  in 
betw.  Aryans.  Wasks  — Lake  dwellers — Celts  (in  ^gypt  under  Marmaiu  ?) — Slaves  (Vandals) 
Folk-lore — Land  in  common  possession.  Germans: — Teutons,  Goths,  Franks,  Saxons,  Norse- 
men. Southern  Europeans: — Pelasgian  legends  divulge  fear  of  inraids  from  Asia — Hellenes  fit 
their  central  position,  appropriating,  systematising,  distributing  the  issues  of  ancient  cultures. 
Rites  transplanted  from  Babylon  to  Dodona.  Trade  with  Britons — Colonies.  First  encounter 
with  Punic  avidity:  Syracuse. — Civil  liberty  a  new  phenomenon.  Centralisation  of  government 
resented.     Constitutional  rights.     Confederacies. 

^£3  61.  Free  position  of  man,  whom  scientific  thought  delivers  from  a  belief  in  astral  decrees 
of  fate — Ionic  School — Analysis  of  personal  life— Mythology.  Self-projections  of  the  agile 
mind.  Symbols  of  aeities  to  represent  the  reality  of  ideals — Centers  of  cohesion,  symbolising  the 
differentiation  of  world-consciousness. 


II   C.      THIRD   CIRCI.K  OF   NATIONS.  XV 

62.  Olympus,  ideal  house  of  representatives — Homer  and  Hesiod  no  longer  understood.  154 
Reforms  contemporaneous  with   Buddhism   and  revival  of  Zoroastrian   cognitions — Delphi. 
Solon.     Herodotus — Merits  of  Hesiod's  "Theogony, "  his  "Works  and  Days."     Merits  of  Greek 
thought:  Transcendental  idealism  retained  but  combined  with  realistic  immanency  of  the  Divine. 

63.  Greek  art:  reveals  immanency  of  the  Divine  in  nature;  appeasement  of  guilt;  knowl- 155 
edge  of  man's  dual  nature  of  which  the  bad  is  no  essential  ingredient;  unconcerned  as  to  the 
Bad, lest  equanimity  may  be  disturbed— Gist  of  Greek  ethics:  Fate,  balancing  the  scales,  not 

to  be  feared— Comparison  with  the  artful  unnaturalness  of  the  Romanesque — Greek  ideal  life: 
reconciliation  of  real  existence  with  future  destiny. 

64.  Greek  art  compared  with  that  of  India  and  ^gypt — Conception  of  the  Divine  under  157 
the  aspect  of  that  which  is  purely  human,  harmonious  and  glorious  -  Egyptians:  Overbeck. 
Temple— architecture,  colors,  music — Hellenistic  art  represents  the  world-theory  which  cul- 
minates in  the  "Gospel  of  Nature" — Greek  cult  symbolises  consistency  of  nature  with  the 
goal  of  history ;  makes  a  study  of  mental  and  corporeal  excellencies,  but  does  not  understand 
the  human  head.      Ruskin:— "The  permanent  smile  on  sculptured  faces" — Greeks  not  quite 

as  natural  as  they  affected  to  be. 

65.  Moralisra  disparaging  religion — Scepticism  after  Periclean  age— Golden  times  of  the  158 
past— no  prophec3' — Pindar  on  esoterics — Intellectualism  in  lieu  of  religion — Weird  phenomena 
arising  from  the  substratum. 

66.  Intellectualism  and  superstition — Parallels:  French  infidelity;  Kant  and  Socrates — 159 
Religion  and  culture,  both  hated  as  means  of  destroying  liberty — What  Europe  owes  to  Greece: 
Hamito — Semitic  assaults  beaten  off — The  day  of  Himera  and  Salamis. 

67.  Crop  raised  from  wild  seeds— Repristination  of  oriental  ideas— Corrupting  principles  160 
imported ;  poison  from  decomposing  national  bodies — Philip    and  Alexander    deified.     Art 
prostitudes  itself — Aristocracy  susceptible  to  old  superstitions. 

68.  Disregard  of  ethics,  of  human  rights — Clannish  nativism:  "barbarians" — "Something  161 
sacred  over  which  the  state  has  no  power" — Sophocles — Socrates  unpopular — Plato  not  humane 

-  -His  state-communism. — Periclean  age  judged  by  Polypios — Venality  and  corruptibility.     Good 
tastes  changed  to  utter  ugliness — Fast  course  downward. 

69.  Merits  of  Hellenism — Portentous     trio:  sin,  guilt,  fate — "Anxious    suspense,"    the  163 
unsolved  problem — Forebodings  of  the  disaster:  Corinth  in  flames! — Things  imperishable. 

IV.  Ch.    Occident;  Right  Wing  of  Aryans:  2.  Romans.  ^^^ 

70.  Polar  axis:  Benares — Rome.  India — Greece,  speculative  ;  Persia — Rome,  energetic. 
Situation  and  characteristics:  (Niebuhr)  purposeness,  united  effort,  discipline — Patriarchal 
element  (Mommsen) — Purity  of  conjugal  life  foundation  of  jurisprudence — Senate,  Vestal 
virgins.  165 

7 1 .  Just  retribution  upon  Carthage — Religious  foundation  of  Roman  greatness — Polybios-^ 
Polytheism  ranks  as  imperial  religion— Dark  substratum  of  religious  distortions — Snake  wor- 
ship—Ovid. Characteristics  revealed  in  architecture:  display  of  power  and  pompousness — 
Wealth  without  education  corrupts   aesthetics.  166 

72.  Limitsofpower;Lecky— Slave  hunts,  Plautus— Labor  and  Capital:  Mommsen— Agrarian 
legislation,  Ranke — Limit  of  ancient  ethics:  State  usurps  all  human  rights — Stoicism,  practically 
denies  rights  and  duties — No  idea  of  personality  in  the  classic  times — Ethics  (the  private 
religion)  discarded,  after  religiousness  is  degraded  to  intellectualism.  268 

73.  Philosophy  and  superstitions — Formalism  and  legalism — "Catechism  of  unforbidden 
actions"  Mommsen — ''Anxious  suspense"  despite  hilarity  and  heroism — Roman  practical  sense 
utilises  the  gods,  wards  off  evil  and  attracts  good  powers  to  serve  political  ends — Superstition 
and  aristocratic  predilections  ever  nurtured  from  the  dark  substratum — The  brilliant  umbel  of 
worldly  culture — Marcellus'  theater  represents  three  periods  of  progress.  269 

74.  Resume :  Cultural  attainments  of  the  Aryans:  guarding  remnants  of  universal  revelation 
— Impulse  to  unite  seeks  center  of  cohesion — Nature  personified;  cognition  idolised— Whilst 
trying  to  solve  religious  riddles  the  Aryans  elevated  themselves — Relapses — Feminine  pole, 
self-abnegation,  on  the  Ganges — Virile  pole,  self-assertion,  on  the  Tiber — Thesis:  World-soreness, 
transcendentalism —  Antithesis  :  worldliness,  immanency —  Orient:  incarnations  —  Occident: 
apotheoses. 

THIRD  DIVISION;  (II C.)  Third  Circle  of  Nations.    The  Mediterranean  Basin.  1*70 

75.  Analysis  of  the  ethnical  compound  in  the  Roman  crucible.  I.  Rome's  leading 
influence.  II.  Greek  influence:  Dissolution,  cosmopolitanism.  III.  Hamito-Semitic  culture, 
dissolvent  element.     IV.  Hebrews:  The  great  Advent. 

I  Ch.    The  Ethnical  Composition  in  the  Roman  Basin.  271 

76.  Cyclical  epoch,  600  B.  C,  conglomerate  (no  union)  of  nations  waiting^  for  peace  and 
rest.  Curtius — Nations  perishing— Commercial  connections,  post  routes,  time  schedules — 
Necho:  Cape  of  Good  Hope  doubled.  Pandemonium — Shamanistic  (Phrygian)  elements — Persian 
sun-cult.  273 

77.  Religious  ecclecticism  not  a  sign  of  enlightenment,  but  symptom  of  the  mind's 
eclipse— Great  sun-set  before  the  holy  night--Presentiment8  of  the  "Synthesis"  No  human 
reason  nor  natural  cause  will  avail  in  the  attempts  to  solve  the  problems  of  the  mental  cosmos 

— "State  incarnate,"  poutifex  maximus. — Pantheon — Emperor-god.  273 

78.  Imperial  religion — Old  nobility  not  averse  to  superstition — Roman  steadfastness  by 
its  religious  traditions  overcome  by  the  introduction  of  oriental  practices — Pantheism  invites 
despotism — Secret  of  the  oriental  dynasties  copied,  utilised  in  the  monarch's  deification — Affida- 


XVI  II  C.      THIRD   CIRCI.K  OF  NATIONS.      SEMITES. 

vitmade  to  Augfastus'  apotheosis — iEgypt  in  him  celebrates  the  "Redeeming"  god.  Emperor- 
mania.  Pliny — Imitation  of  Persia;  Plato's  "ideal  state"  idoHsed;  whereby  the  occidental  mind  is  per- 
manently imbued  with  orientalism — Man-god  preferable  to  the  contemporaneous  beast-god — To 
save  humanity  from  falling  into  fetishism,  man  fell  rather  back  upon  self-adoration,  redis- 
covering the  postulate  of  oneness. 

---  79.  History,  tends  to  carry  out  the  principle  of  unification — Human  nature  gravitates  to 
large  national  organisms  which  warrant  social  order  and  security  of  customary  existence — 
Also  to  carry  out  the  idea  of  dominion — Perverse  nations  disqualified  to  continue — Wrong 
apperceptions  of  dominion  and  liberty  miscarry — Uniformity  the  leading  idea  of  Roman  polity 
— Ancient  monarchies  fail  to  establish  this  unity. 
II  Ch.  Disintegration  of  State-Theocracy. 

17g  80.  Genesis  of  subjectivism  and  cosmopolitanism — Intellect  at  work  in  Alexandria — Rome 
the  apparatus  for  setting  free  the  components  of  the  ethnical  compound — Hellenism  to  con- 
duct the  isolation — Greek  thought  furnishes  the  "Word" — Neither  sinister  cults  nor 
higher  culture,  nor  annihilating  national  peculiarities  of  the  vanquished  would  avail  as  a 
solvent  power  to  disintegrate  the  lumps  of  theocratic  affinities — Gods  and  "Courts  of  Heaven" 
being  abolished,  state  unity  fell  asunder — Personality  gained  was  overstrained — Subjectivism 
Futile  attempts  to  reconstruct  society  from  Plato  to  Alexandrian  doctrinarians — Theorists 
propose  cosmopolitanism  as  a  solace  for  lost  nationality— Dissatisfaction  no  bad  sign  of  times. 
State  once  built  into  the  frame  of  religion:  now  theory  of  a  mental  cosmos  built  into  the  ruins 
of  the  state — Hellenism  spreads  comopolitanism — Alexandrian  book- trade — International 
learnedness  observable  for  the  first  time. 

179  81.  Thoughtfully  and  filled  with  doubts  the  Graeco-Roman  world  goes  down— Buddhism 
and  scepticism— Causes  of  decay — Platonismthe  conductor  of  the  oriental  views  of  life  to  Rome 
— Analysis  of  Stoicism.  It  affects  contempt  of  earthly  conditions,  evaporates  personality  into 
generalness,  lands  in  Hindu  pessimism.  When  sympathy  for  suffering  fellow-citizens  is  ap- 
pealed  to,  it  is  convenient  to  act  the  cosmopolitan — Stoicism  powerful  through  state-officials 
throughout  the  Roman  world-orbit — Cicero — Areios.  Import  of  Alexandria:  Serapefon — Ray 
of  light  watched  falling  upon  the  lips  of  the  idol — Philo,  the  Hebrew — Sum  and  substance  of 
Aryan  progress. 

III.  Ch.    Cushito— Semitic  Nations. 

180  82.  Necessity  of  merging  oriental  transcendentalism  with  occidental  immanency.  Ex- 
tremes met  but  would  not  mingle  in  the  Roman  crucible — Semitic  predisposition  for  interme- 
diating— Semites  and  Cushites  located,  and  to  be  discriminated— Hommel. 

181  83.  Substratum,  a  people  of  Uralo — Altaic  descent.  Cave-dwellers — Akkado-Sumerian 
fetishism — Lenormant.— Babylonian  antiquities  vary  from  Assyrian,  bear  marks  of  Cushite 
origin — Elam — Susania— Discoveries  at  Kuyundshik — Layard.  Akkadian  culture  corroborates 
biblical  records— Pre-Semitic  Shamanistic  substratum,  source  of  con  jury— Kings  of  Ur—Pöalms 
of  contrition — Formula  of  exorcism— Sumero-Akkadian  rites  brought  from  Mongolian 
regions  to  Mesopotamia,  Schrader. 

182  84.  Monotheism  preceded  Cushitic  rites:  Chaldean  culture — Man's  dual  nature  recognized 
— The  fall — The  flood — Divine  ancestors  fighting  the  "dragon" — Delitzsch — Yearning  for  for- 
giveness of  sins — Assyro-Babylonian  art — Templar  architecture  in  Babylon,  palatial  in  Ninive — 
Art  not  idolatrous — Letters  to  Tel  el  Amama. 

182  85.  Egypt's  culture  of  Mesopotamian  extraction — Nature  determining  the  history  of  the 
Egyptians — Ritter — Climate,  temples  and  tombs  preservatory  to  relics  of  Egyptian  thought 
and  life— A  mixture  of  races — Bunsen,  Brugsch,  J.  0.  Miller— Cushites  form  the  substratum — 
Nahasu-Amu,  the  Celtes  ?— Faidherbes. 

183  86.  Monotheism  of  i€gyptian  esoterics — "Book  of  the  Dead." — V.  v.  Strauss — The  enneat 
— Paut-Thot-the  Thought — Brugsch— Trias  of  Maspero,  Champillon— Disk-heresy  of  the  Ameno- 
phises — "Judgment  of  the  Dead" — Keeps  consciousness  of  guilt,  and  cognition  of  responsibility 
and  immortality  vivid — Resume:  High  merit  of  this  culture — The  crop  raised  from  the  wild 
seed  in  the  subsoil — Scene  in  the  Serapeion — Clemens  Alexandrinus — Snake-worship — Apis-tombs 
— Combination  of  two  religions  represented  in  human  figures  with  beast's  heads — Human  fig- 
ure free  from  pillar,  but  wall  still  attached. 

184  87.  Art  never  excels  the  cult  underlying  it — Death  personified  everywhere,  mirrors  the 
stability  of  theocratic  rule — Character  and  inner  life  of  man  better  understood  than  in  Greek 
art — Overbeck — Even  death  under  orders  of  deified  royalty — Tirhaka's  picture  at  Medinet  Abu, 
Roscellini — Names  of  unpopular  rulers  erased — Attempts  at  reforms  by  Amenophis  IV:  Pharao  of 
the  Exodus;  Wilkinson — Tablets  of  Tel  el  Amarna — Domestic  life  described  in  pictures — Brugsch- 
Marietta — Present  ^gypt  under  the  same  geographical  conditions. 

186  88.  Phenician  Semites  acting  as  dissolvents  upon  Aegyptian  culture — Came  from  Sunier- 
Akkad  to  the  coast;  transmitted  the  most  pronounced  and  worst  traits  of  Cushite  elements; 
adopt  Melkart  cult  from  ^gypt— Obscenity  of  templar  rites — Bal,  Kamosh,  Moloch;  Ashera- 
Lucian— Movers— Mylitta — Abomination  spreads — Phenician  adapted  to  worldly  intercourse, to 
act  the  dissolvent — Overreach  the  Aryans  in  mercantile  traffic,  which  they  monopolise  upon 
small  strips  of  sea  coasts — Finally  vanquished  mentally  through  Greek  thought,  and  by  main 
force  of  the  Romans — Retribution   upon  "Punic  faith,"  Moloch  and  Mammon. 

187  89.  Chaldeans:  Primeval  monotheism — Ur:Mugheir — Maspero— I^arsa,  sanctuary  of  the  sun- 
god — Most  ancient  seat  of  learning. 

IV  Ch.    The  Hebrew  Community. 
187  90.     Representing  the  centralising  and  solvent  power — Despised  because  of  their  peculiar- 


n  D.      THß   DIVIDB  OF  THK  TIMKS.  XVII 

ities — Polity  of  all  nations  hinges  upon  the  sociology  of  the  twelve  tribes — Situation  of  the 
Holy  Ivand,a  foothold  upon  earth  for  this  household— The  only  nation  in  the  Roman  basin  not 
completely  crushed— Their  pride  of  pedigree  ;clannishness-This  nation  and  Its  book  which  is  not 
"the  product  of  the  national  spirit"— Covenant  under  conditions— Sin  and  Grace — Special 
revelation. 

91.  Historic-natural  basis  of  Mosaic  legislation,    Egyptian  externals  — Sychronology — 189 
Discovery  of  Monotheism— Israel  a  small  group  of  the  aecaying  Semites,  surviving  disasters 

all  around — Its  hope  and  sobriety — No  extolling  of  heroes.  Niebuhr— Unique  position  of 
"Prophecy" — Revealed  as  against  mythical  cosmogonies.     Stelnthal. 

92.  Absence  of  plastic  art— Qualified  only  to  receive   and  to  keep,  "the  Secret"  Contrast  190 
with  other  nations  concerning   the  past   and  future — Not   intoxicated  by  naturalistic  progress, 
because  cognisant  of  the  historic  future.     Lotze — Disciplinary  purpose  of  the  "decalogue" — Trust 

in  divine  promises — Israel  pardoned  and  burdened — Proclamation  of  conciliation  of  real  exist- 
ence with  final  destiny — Prophecy  in  the  negative  work  against  erroneous  expectations  of  the 
kingdom;    positive  task  in  fore-casting  the  figure  of  the  "Servant  of  God".  Inspiration. 

93.  Resume  of  Semitic  culture  (Renan)  in  comparison   with  the   Aryan— Grill    on  Hebrew  192 
etymology — Old  Testament  catholicity,  understood  by  very  few  intensely  pious   minds — Jews 

in  the  diaspora  impress  the  gentile  world  with  their  hope— -The  Rabbi  of  Alexandria  bent  upon  a 
compromise. 

FOURTH  DIVISION.    (II.  D.)  The  Divide  of  the  Times. 

Syllabus. 

94.  Postulate  of  the  "Synthesis"   i.  lyOgic  of  hist,  not  a  theory  but  a  fact — Synthesis  is  194 
not  a  syllogism  but  a  person.     2.  Death  postulates  a  cosmical    Mediator — Sacrifice  in   the 
nations  upon  the  periphery  and  in  that  of  the  center — Founding  a  new  humanity. 

I  Ch.    Intermediation  Logically  Postulated.  The  Historical  Synthesis. 

95.  Survey  of  educational  factors  in  the  Roman  basin.     Greek  thought    (Alexandria  the  1^*^ 
observatory )  and  Roman  law.     Hellenism  tinctured  with  Hindooism.    Goal :  to  bridge  the  chasm 
betw.  the  finite    and    the    infinite.       Historic    postulate  from  empirics. 

96.  Remnants   of  original  God-consciousness  in  emotion  and  intellect     (anxious  sus-  ^^^ 
pense)  utilised  to  cultivate  receptivity  for  "something  better."      Cultural   development  con- 
sonant with  the  nature  of  the  national  cults — Intellectualism  unable   to  uproot   superstition — 
Higher  classes  prove  to  degrade  religiously.     The  lowly  people  not  always  of  mean   character. 

97.  Incessant  polar  strain    betw.  east  and  west — Buddhism  an  ingredient  in  the  crucible  ^^* 
Heracleitos'  pessimism — Juvenal — Systematised  agnosticism   demands  two  impossibilities — 
Stoa— A  theory  tends  to  embody  itself  in  an  organisation.  , 

98.  Phi losoph}'^  of  despair  as  to  all  reality  is  unable  to  invent  a  God  present  in  the  ^^ 
world — Pantheistic  generalness  and  political  oppression.  Only  a  false  conception  of  either 
Buddhism  or  Christianity  could  once  have  taken  Platonism  and  Stoicism  as  transitory  approach- 
es to  Christianity.  Idea  of  incarnation  not  so  much  a  logical  postulate  as  an  emotional  antici- 
pation— Two  aberrations:  "Sorrow  of  this  world"  or  "abandonment  to  carnal  pleasure." 
Facts  foreshadowing  the  Incarnation.     The  shape  which  the  force  of  human   longings   took 

in  Greek  mythology. 

99.  Comparison  betw.  Hellenistic  and  Hindoo  anticipations:  Hindoo  mind  in   nature's  ^Ol 
embrace,  materializes  the  gods  and  evaporates  the  world;   Greek  embraces  nature,  humanises 

it  and  the  gods  are  objectivised  men — Divinations  as  to  the  unification  betw.  God  and  the  world 
in  Rome  as  compared  with  those  of  Greece — Man  to  become  divine — Extremes  of  Benares  and 
Rome  meet— Decree  of  the  universal  census — Balancing  accounts  in  the  Roman  clearing-house. 

100.  Semitic    ingredient  as  to  incarnation — Monotheistic    law  and  Jewish  tradition —  ^^^ 
Philo's  compromise    betw.  revelation    and    gnostic    ecclecticism— Heinze,   Keferstein.— Philo 
endeavors  to  render  Judaism  acceptable  to  everybody;  whereby  its   catholicity  becomes  con- 
spicuous for  the  first  time. 

loi.  Oriental  and  occidental  postulates  of  the  incarnation  dove-tailed,  the  terminus  of  "^'* 
reasoning  in  this  respect — Discrepancies  in  Plato's  and  Philo's  theorisings:  impure  matter  ill 
adapted  to  become  the  vehicle  of  personified  holiness — Philo's  merit.  Plan  and  purpose  in 
unison  throughout  physical  life,  whilst  in  personal  life  each  person  has  the  purpose  in  itself 
and  the  design  becomes  destiny  remaining  outside  the  person — Plan  in  hist,  in  general,  pur- 
pose individualising  as  the  task,  to  work  out  the  common  destiny.  „ 

102.  Review  of  empiric,  inductive  data  in  proof  of  the  correctness  of  deductive  syllogising.  ^^'^ 
—Equation  of  contrasts  and  strains  betw. the  antitheses  of  oriental  idealism  and  occidental  real- 
ism the  historic  necessity — Theoretical  conclusions  that  the  combination   of  the   theses   may 
prove  the  key  spoken  of.     This  conclusion  is  drawn  and  forms  the  postulate  of  pre-Christian 
history— Mode  in  which  alone  the  Synthesis  can  realise  itself.  <,„_ 

103.  Logic  of  hist,  demands  the  solution  of  the  problems  through  a  fact,  a  person.  Plato  >* 
demonstrates  the  necessity  of  the  effects  of  personal  incarnation  to  become  universal — Philo's 
and  Plato's  postulates  combined  include  a  third  one:  perfect  union  betw.  Deity  and  humanity  in  one  real 
man.  This  mode  of  the  Logos'  entering  the  world  under  historical  conditions  is  the  stumbling 
block  of  gnosticism — Refutation  of  modern  attempts  at  solving  the  problem  in  worse  than 
ancient  style. 

II.  Ch.     Intermediation  Postulated  Physically.    The  Sacrifice. 

104.  The  Infinite  to  take  the   initiative  in  assuming  finite  forms  of  existence  at  a  certain 
time  and  proper  locality — Preparation  for,  and  appreciation  of  the  Advent — Social  misery— 

2 


XVIII  II  D.     THK  DIVIDK  OF  THE  TIMES. 

Unavailing  devices  on  the  score  of  reforms.  Attempts  at  self-salvation  render  matters  worse 
— The  delusion  that  the  state  is  the  Supreme  Good  in  the  last  resort  vanishes — Ancient  culture 
collapses— The  oativity. 

209  105.  The  singular  ordinance  of  Prophecy  a  fact  as  well  as  a  miracle,  not  interpretablc 
from  pragmatic  inferences— Unparalleled  hist,  of  the  chosen  people:  clearly  designed  to 
remain  typical  for  every  human  heart:  under  pressure — Disclosures  upon  Golgatha— Solution  of  all 
problems,  affirmation  of  all  suppositions  here  made — Synthesis  locked — Parusia  and  judgment 
according  to  terms  here  stipulated — Zend  Avesta,  Seyfarth.  Voices  from  heathendom  not 
necessary  in  proof  of  the  everlasting  significance  of  this  Self=Sacrifice.  Its  bearings  upon  the 
cosmos — Necessity  of  the  redeemer's  death — Wailiugs  reverberating  through  all  nations 
because  of  death. 

210 .  106.  Guilt  to  be  propitiated,  demanded  by  the  universal  order  of  things.  Absolute 
justice  of  retribution  universally  acknowledged  in  the  promptings  to  offer  sacrifices — Sacrifices 
expiatory  under  conditions — Vicarious  atonement.  Effective  for  those  only  who  submit  to  the 
reasonable,  simple  conditions  of  the  New  Covenant — Man  judged  or  acquitted  according  to  the 
attitude  taken  towards  the  atoning  sacrifice.  Evidences  of  guilt  and  the  necessity  of  expiation 
— Juvenal,  Movers,  Preller.  Cosmical  conditionalities  remain  in  full  force  wherever  redemption 
is  rejected. 

212  107.  The  great  atonement  foreshadowed  in  many  perversions  of  the  idea  of  sacrifice — 
Solidarity  of  human  sin  and  guilt  -Dorner — Human  sacrifices.  Voluntary  self  denials  for  the 
welfare  of  others — Sophocles.    Victims  of  calumny — Animal  sacrifices — Lassaulx. 

213  108.  Sacrifice  means:  "Man's  being  in  earnest  about  religion"— Wuttke — All  sacrifices  but 
foreshadowings  of  the  divinely  appointed  sacrifices  of  the  Old  Testament,  which  in  turn  were 
typical  of  this  one  sacrifice  in  which  the  typical  ones  are  abated.  The  "Son  of  Man"  the 
central  figure  of  the  entire  cosmo.s — Incarnation  and  atonement  in  their  significance  for 
mankind— The  Crucifixion.  A  ppropriation  of  the  saving  effects  to  transpire  upon  the  historic 
lines  demarcated  by  the  Testator — Historical,  but  transeunt — by  faith  alone.  Understanding 
the  process  of  r.  novation  escapes  scientific  demonstration  but  not  personal  experience.  The 
reason  of  this  secrecy.  As  unnecessary  for  mental  schematising  as  it  is  impossible  and  un- 
necessary for  finite  beings  to  become  absolute. 

215  109.  Retrospect  from  the  position  "under  the  Cross" — Knowledge  of  the  Triune  God 
and  of  creation  restored — God  the  Father  of  men  solely  with  reference  to  salvation — True  self- 
knowledge- -Paradise;  apostasy— God's  purpose  being  challenged  the  universe  was  to  keep 
its  course  to  preserve  the  purpose  and  act  as  its  means  as  against  human  arbitrariness,  aberra- 
tions and  Satanic  mystifications — "Sicut  deum  eritis" — Total  subversion  of  original  God- 
consciousness — The*'gods"were  projections  of  anguish:  because  ghostly  phantoms  haunt  the  fratricide 
— Cause  of  the  bad  not  revealed:  it  betrays  itself — Causality  of  sin  in  a  world  of  spirits- -Sinner 
not  a  devil  himself;  else  man  would  be  irredeemable.     His  nobility  still  the  essence  of  his  being. 

218  1 10.  Traditional  knowledge  of  the  deplorable  calamity  neither  mythical  nor  superstitious 
— Bvidencesof  deep  and  dark  undercurrent  otherwise  inexplicable — Satan's  fury  at  becoming 
exposed— Prince  of  darkness  betrays  himself  in  his  imitating  God  and  mystifying  revelation 
— Word  of  God  and  its  preachings  verified  by  the  manner  in  which  the  lie  and  the  bad  are 
provoked — Taking  sides  with  Satan — Demonology  not  to  be  skipped  over — Dorner. 

219  III.  Aid  of  metaphysics  indispensable — Language  witnesses  against  evolution  from 
depravity  upwards — Abstract  parts  of  speech  fixed  first."  O.Miller — Languages  weakening 
— Burnouf — 'Products  of  degeneracy" — Martins.    Lepsius.    Von  Loehen. 

220  112.  A  glance  afforded  into  the  background  of  the  hist,  drama,  from  whence  the  effects 
of  the  bad  issue  and  become  observable.  The  bad  is  in  the  plan  of  hist — Dorner — The  Savior's 
method  of  relieving  humanity  of  the  effects  of  Satan's  workings — Death  in  its  empiric  form — 
Effects  of  the  apostasy  upon  nature— Man's  dual  nature — Possibility  of  death — First  principle 
from  which  alone  the  cognition  of  objective  and  authoritative  duty  can  be  derived — Dorner — Necessity 
of  the  ethical  process  of  healing  the  break  betw.  spirit  and  body  by  means  of  the  soul. 

222  I  Iß,  Principal  constituents  of  human  nature  in  conflict  signifying  severance  of  the  two 
spheres  of  existence  to  the  extent  of  abnormal  relations — Chasm  betw.  cosmical  life  and  the 
sphere  of  "essential  unity"  goes  through  human  nature  in  the  first  place  and  means  -death. 
Man  stretched  out  as  upon  across:  above  and  below,  right  and  left.  (Reflecting  and  unre- 
flecting consciousness  described  and  defined.)  Hence  cosmical  significance  of  the  atonement — 
Gregory  of  Nyssa. 

223  114.  Ethical  significance  of  the  atonement.  Two  main  lines  of  cultural  development: 
Sethi tes,  cults,  central.  Cainites,  culture,  peripheral— Universal  revelation. — World-empire 
and  its  culture  the  aim— center  of  cohesion.  Self-salvation  through  self-culture — Birth  of 
paganism:  organised — General  Revelation:  covenant  with  Noah,  universe  included.  Special 
revelation:  covenant  with  Abraham,  paganism  excluded ;  still  catholic  as  to  humanity — Intensi- 
fied  religion,  under  pressure  of  heathendom. 

224  ii5_  Four  imprints  perpetuating  the  plan  of  universal  hist.  1  "Genealogical  Table."  J.  v. 
Miller  — Unity  of  humanity,  uniqueness  of  God— Other  nations  claim  to  be  emanated  from 
particular  deities — Lenormant.  2.  Babylonian  tablets:  Disclosing  confusion  and  dispersion — 
Apostasy  dares  to  organise,  after  the  parole  "sicut"  etc.  Asiatic  despotism  subsequent  to 
subversion  of  the  proper  motives  of  progress — For  the  first  time  boast  of  higher  culture  with 
anarchism  at  bottom — Folly  of  misdirected  aspiration  and  vain  glory  demonstrated — 3  Image  of 
tu«i  "Monarchies."  Erroneous  interpretations.  Danger-signal  as  to  false  progress.  Whenever 
culture  displaces  cultus  national  disaster  is  imminent— 4.  Pentecost.    Its  bearings  on  the  unity 


II  e;.    third  circlk  of  nations.  xix 

of  humanity  and  '  'the"  civilisation  issuing— The  dispersed  to  be  gathered  into  God's  house- 
hold, M.  Mueller — New  covenant  not  to  perpetuate  any  part  of  the  decayed  matter  of  the  old 
world — Fulfillment  of  the  promises  save  one — Genesis  of  the  Church,  the  type  of  the  ultimate 
rehabilitation  of  the  coming  Kingdom  in  contrast  with  Babel—  Jewish  theocracy  the  typical 
vehicle  of  universal  civilisation,  i.  ^.,  Christianised  culture.  Its  "secret"  made  public  to  the 
gentiles — Final  fulfillment  not  without  certain  death-struggles. 

Ill  Ch.    Intermediation  in  Its  Ethical  and  i€sthetical  Bearings.  «27 

116.  Effects  of  the  Resurrection — A.  nucleus  of  a  regenerated  household  to  work  as  a  leaven 
in  the  dough  of  humanity — Process  of  disseminating  in  ever  widening  circles  analogous  to,  but 
not  identical  with,  the  developments  in  natural  spheres — Scale  of  progress  in  general  from  the 
inorganic  to  the  celestial  kingdom — Transition  by  five  graduations  with  a  hiatus  betw.  each, 
to  be  bridged  from  the  higher  stage  in  degrees  of  diminishing  distinctness  but  increasing  in- 
tensity— Christ  alone  imparts  the  life  eternal  and  indissoluble  in  historic  ways  of  organically 
connected  ordinances — Adaptability  of  the  physical  world  to  become  spiritualised — "Second 
Adam,"  scion  from  above,  grafted  into  the  ethically  prepared  humanity  of  the  first,  as  its 
natural  crown — New  in  history:  Personality  conceived  in  its  ideality  and  eternal  value.  gon 

117.  All  constituent  parts  of  humanity,  as  far  as  they  partake  of  the  Holy  Spirit  recognise 
each  other  as  a  unity  of  common  origin  and  with  a  common  destiny — The  question 
of  unity  of  language  raised  for  the  first  time  and  answered  at  the  same  instant. 
J.  Grimm— The  Church — Its  binding  ties  as  to  Head  and  membership  in  a  mystical  bodv  are 
brotherly  love  and  compassion  in  response  to  the  Great  Sacrifice— Another  novelty:  general  love 
to  fellow  men — Sum  of  the  effects  of  Christ's  resurrection  is  "humanism"  for  which  not  even 
Socrates  and  Plato  had  a  word.  M.  Mueller— The  type  of  humanity  in  its  totality  and  in  every  detail. 
Individual  renewal  under  conditions— Ivife  and  death  of  the  God-man  typical  as  to  all  historic 
eventualities  up  to  final  consummation — Valuable  in  history  is  only  that  which  approaches  to 
conformity  with,  and  reflects  the  model-life  of,  the  "Image" — Virtue  in  the  main:  humaneness, 
including  the  most  abandoned  specimen  of  human  degeneracy  as  well  as  Christ  Jesus.  "Bild- 
ung" (conformance  to  the  "Image")  is  education  in  the  proper  sense.  «oi 

118.  Resurrection  and  aesthetics — In  the  cognition  of  final  transfiguration  into  the  State  of 
Glory  lies  the  criterion  of  the  Beautiful— The  resurrection  discloses  the  plan,  the  goal  and  the 
mysterious  mode  of  development  —Heterogeneity  of  matter  and  mind  is  virtually  overcome — 
Contrast  betw.  pagan  and  Christian  ethics  as  aesthetically  expressed  at  Benares,  (Oldenberg) 
at  Athens,  and  at  Jerusalem— Adornment  of  "the  House  of  God"  a  matter  entirely  ^unknown  to 
surrounding  nations— The  "Magnificat".  232 

119.  History  but  the  expansion  of  man  in  all  of  his  incipiencies — Asceticism  inclined  to  hold 
the  secondary  good  in  contempt;  to  make  abnegation  meritorious  and  criterion  of  piety,  to 
make  the  temple  of  the  spirit  a  penitentiary— Whilst  worldliness  is  disqualified  to  judge  things 
pertaining  to  the  realm  of  glory — Hence  either  false  enthusiasm  or  wild  fanaticism — Optimism 
and  pessimism  conciliated  in  Christianity — "With  the  gospel  progress  proper  is  initiated. 
Lenormant — Aryan  activity  and  Turanian  lethargy  contrasted — Compact  masses  to  be  broken  up  in 
order  to  set  personality  free — Christianity  the  solvent  force— Polarity  betw.  "Church"  and 
"society",  dogmatism  and  free  thought.  234 

120.  Resume:  "The  man  towards  whom  heathendom  tangents,  through  whom  alone 
history  can  be  interpreted."  Droysen — St.  Paul  in  Europe:  making  public  the  plan  of  social  recon- 
struction— Program  of  universal  history  before  the  Areopagus. 

FIFTH  DIVISION  (II  E.)  Third  Circle  of  Nations.    Rome's  Post-Augustean  Period. 

Syllabus;  235 

121.  The  three  concentrating  circles  to  be  re-examined  in  reverse  order — Three  distinct 
stages  of  Christianizing  cultures  with  a  view  to  universal  civilisation — Judaism,  the  alloy 
mixed  into  Church-life,  together  with  the  other  orientalism  (  ^81  )  causes  serious  perturbations. 

I  Ch.   Rome  and  the  Church.  236 

122.  Roman  rule  made  to  serve  Christianity:  preparing  nations  to  accept  the  Gospel,  and 
channels  for  its  distribution — Curse  of  bureaucracy — Effeminating  extravagance — The  "Bar- 
barians"— Syncretism  and  indifference — Christianity  tolerated  if  it  would  serve  political   ends 

— Disappointment  as  to  the    state  being  the  Supreme  Good,  237 

123.  Plato's  ideal  naturalised  in  Rome,  utilised  in  securing  ecclestical  permanency  by 
Augustin — State-absolutism  encounters  the  Christian  conscience  — Attempts  to  rescue  state- 
theocracy  cause  persecutions — "The  most  heroic  emancipation.  "L. v. Ranke — Obedient  to  even  a 
Neronian  government,  the  martyrs  could  not  be  disloyal  to  their  lyord — Christians  excom- 
municated from  humanity. — lUustr.:  Well  at  Antioch — No  danger  of  becoming  worldly — Ro- 
man forms  of  organisation  adopted  without  guile — Danger  lurked  in  theocratic  tendencies — 
Worship  in  catacombs — Pictorial  badges  as  confessions  of  faith  against  hostile  espionage — 
Christian  antique  (Martigny— De  Rossi)  represents  the  consistency  of  esteeming  the  secondary  good 
without  detriment  to  the  heavenly  realities.  238 

124.  Paganism  warded  off  in  doctrine  was  allowed  to  intrude  in  practice — Contempt  of 
the  world  transferred  by  Persian  fugitives  into  the  Thebais  and  the  Church — Origin  of  mon- 
astic communism— Augustin's  "De  civitate  Dei"  copied  from  Plato  to  fortify  the  Church— Oriental 
Aryanism  separated  from  the  occidental  through  the  Semitic  wedge  of  Mohammedanism— Sem- 
itic encroachments  perpetuate  the  strain  of  old  polarities  in  aggravated  forms — Hilarius'  army 
of  monks — Gregory  called  pope — Pantheon  a  relic-market — Degeneracy  of  the  church  con- 
spicuous— Rome  rehabilitated  in  the  church-state.  "A  decaying  corpse  on  one  side,  rejuvenat- 
ing on  the  other:"  Oregorovius. 


XX  II   F.      SECOND  CIRCI.K  OF  NATIONS. 

II  Ch.    Deformation:  The  Byzantine  Cliurcli. 

23y  125.  Bast-Roman  empire— Parthenon  a  church  of  "the  Mother  of  God" — Abissyniao 
Church,  mummified— Armenian  Church:  "Prester  John"— Constantine's  statue  emblem  of  Byzan- 
tinism.  His  city  tKe  archive  of  Hellenistic  souvenirs.  Asiatic  court-life  imitated.  Ecclesiasti- 
cism  supreme.  Antioch  eulogized  for  its  relics,  by  Clirysostom — Art  emblematic  of  national 
character,  which  is  determined  by  religious  tenets  and  cults.  Art  under  cesaro-papal  sur- 
veillance—Copy-book  of  the  Saints'  portraits  at  Mt.  Athos — Byzantine  pictures  mirroring  the 
adulterated  thought  of  humanity. 

^^^  126.     Cause  of  the  decline.  Gibbon— Intestine   outbreaks  of  fanaticism — Barbarian   inraids 

diminish  the  territorial  extent.  Defenseless  border-lines — Court-theology  and  cruelties;  palace- 
revolutions— Diocletian's  further  introduction  of  orientalism:  "Persian  tiara."  Pompousness 
and  impotency — Barbarians  made  body-guards — Mischief  of  the  Augustinian  theory  manifest; 
amalgamating  "throne  and  altar." 

"^^  127.  Sum  and  substance  of  first  phase  of  Christianized  culture.  German  element  modi- 
fying— Justinian's  figure  emblematic:  prerogative  of  state  made  subordinate  and  subservient  to 
the  priest-state,  Hergenroether— Heraclius  carrying  the  "Holy  Cross"  from  Persia  to  Jerusalem; 
receives  letter  from  Muhamed  on  the  way — Constantinople  the  depository  for  the  remnants  of 
classic  culture;  Painting  in  the  cloister  of  Iviron  (Mt.  Athos)  foreshadowing  the  reunion  of 
the  old  and  true  element  of  Aryanism  with  evangelical  catholicity. 

9^3        III  Ch.    The  Church  and  the  Talmud. 

128.  Comparison  of  Jewish  with  Aryan  propensities:  Aryans  speculate,  Jews  calculate. 
Semites  forced  into  Mohammedanism  and  Talmudism.     Talmud  and  Koran  to   stir  up  Chris- 

O45tendom.     Church  under  obligation  to  Jewish  effrontery. 

129.  Rise  of  Talmudism,  /.  e.,  systematised  pharis  seism.  Retaliation  upon  Jerusalem — Suc- 
cession of  the  synhedrion.  Babylonian  origin  of  the  Talmud  is  ominous.  Hatred  of  the'  'cross" 
made  the  sole  center  of  cohesion — Kabala — Babylonian  substitute  for  the  Alexandrian  synthesis 
of  Philo— Source  of  Jewish  arrogance,  of  casuistry  and  probabilism:  Statutes  of  elders. 

246  130.  Biblical  element  in  Judaism  amalgamates  not  with  Talmudism.  Allegorical  exegesis 
— Influence  upon  the  church  in  the  time  of  Maimonides,  Albertus  magnus,  Thomas  Aquina — Magic 
art,  the  filth  of  Babylon  catalogued,  practiced  and  peddled  out— Sample  cited  from  "Tract 
Sanhedrin" — Cause  of  riots  in  the  Middle  ages — Intimacy  betw.  Jew  and  Moslem;  Graetz— Met- 
atron's  prediction. 

IV  Ch.    The  Church  and  Islam 

247  131.  Jews  of  Arabia;  sanctuary  at  Mecca — Self-sufficiency,  requiring  no  religious  con- 
viction, only  political  subjection  and  external  conformance — Rise  of  the  Crescent — Koran  on 
the  calling  of  Muhamed,  who  does  not  argue — Sum  and  substance  of  his  world-theory.  Import 
of  Saracenic  translations  upon  Mediaeval  Europe — Sciences  transmitted  to  Cordova  and 
Zaragossa — Samarkand,  Asia's  university — Arab  culture  not  self-productive — A.  v.  Humboldt — 
As  a  religion  Islam  is  but  plagiarism;  Koran  the  type  of  Mohammedan  culture— Idea  of  "im- 
maculate conception"  derived  from  Islam:  St.  Bernard.  Fra  Paolo — Moorish  style  of  architecture 
copied  from  India  —Arabesque  in  lieu  of  forbidden  images. 

250  132.     "Ivions  court  in  the  Alhambra  symbolises  that  Islam  culture  can  never  come  to  an 

understanding  with  occidental  culture.  Polygamy  the  curse  of  Turano-Semitic  culture  and 
national  life — Harem-life  makes  reform  impossible  — Islam-Semitic  culture  a  parasite  upon 
decaying  ethnical  matter — Onslaughts  of  Asiatics  repulsed  by  the  two  Karls  as  before  by  the 
two  Catos — Comparison  of  principles  in  Christian  and  Islam  cultures —  Order  of  life  under 
determinism — Iman,  conscience  by  proxy. 

2^1  133.     Retrospect  and  prospect:  Pope  of  Rome  and   caliph  of  Mecca  at  the  close   of  that 

cyclical  period — Mandates  of  both  essentially  diagonal  tho  converging^Collections  of  legal 
customs.     The  real  Middle-age  bisected  by  the  year  of  the  Nativity.  The  Word  and  the  Cross. 

SIXTH  DIVISION  (II  F.)  Second  Circle  of  Nations  Indo-Qermans.    Hiddle-ages. 

0-0 

^'^'^  Syllabus.     Struggles  for  supremacy  betw.  emperors  and  popes.      Rome  under  the  bans  of 

the  Semitic  ideal  of  a  world-theocracy. 

^-o         I  Ch.    German  Characteristics.    Karl  the  Great. 

•"^^  134.     Iviberty  of  the  Germans:  Tacitus — Trade  betw.  Getes    (Goths)   and   Assyro-Babylon — 

Their  territory  from  the  Tweed  to  Mt.  Atlas;  Ranke — Rome's  end;  Germans  enter — Soil 
upturned,  new  principles  planted. 

f,- .  135.     Semites,  calculus;  Greeks,   intellect;  Romans,  will;  Germans,    sentiment;  requisite 

""  for  thorough  "Bildung."  Traits  common  to  Persians,  Greeks  and  Germans — Tradition  of  the 
world's  destruction  and  transmutation:  Bdda-myths — The  world-embracing  One  to  come. 
Thor's  temple  at  Upsala.  Adam  of  Bremen — Traces  of  snake-cult.  Human  sacrifices — Accept- 
ance of  the  "Good-spell."  The  "King  akin  to  all  the  kinsfolks  "  German  sincerity  meets  the 
cordiality  of  the  Gospel  half-way :    Culdean  and  Anglo-Saxon  missionaries. 

Q-«  136.  German  paganism  never  entirely  abolished;  Roman  method  of  accomodation  and 
'^  symbolism — Scene  of  worship  of  German  converts.  "Heliand"  the  single  idea  upon  which 
German  tribes  agree —  Qualities  of  doubtful  nature,  but  conducive  to  develop  a  rich  culture — 
lyove  for  the  fatherland  and  the  mother-tongue — Belt  of  colonies  from  Cape  North  to  Carthage 
preserved  individualism  against  concentrated  power — Scene  in  Italy,  illustr.  period  of  trans- 
ition: German  culture  roots  in  agriculture.  Civil  government  passes  into  the  hands  of  clergy. 
Petty  states  forming  under  laws  of  their  own.  Imperialism  vanishes.  Theodoric  and  Ulfilas^ 
the  great  Ostra-goths.     Bible  in  Gothic-German. 


II  F.   SECOND  CIRCI.E  OF  NATIONS.  XXI 

137.  Hist,  [educates  nations  towards  unity.  Karl's  coronation  crowns  the  nation's  desire  258 
for  ideal  and  authoritative  representation — Karl's  cardinal  idea:  succession  upon  Constantin's 
throne— Patronises  Latin  science  and  German  literature— Scene  at  the  palatinate  of  Aachen — 
Fondness  for  Byzantine  nimbus— Constantinople  the  bridge  for  orientalism;  Herder — Nobility 
and  antiquity — Karl's  three  emblematic  silver  tables.  "Holy  Roman  Empire  of  the  German 
Nation" — Commences  its  career  by  fighting  off  oriental  invasions  but  admitting  portentous 
influences.     Byzantine  court-etiquette;  meaning  of  the  "dalmatica"— Sycophancy — Conception 

of  the  Savior  Byzantinized — Karl  not  adverse  to  court- theology,  cautioning  the  hierarchy  to 
bewaie  against  imperial  infringements. 

II.  Ch.    Principles  Developing  European  CIvlUsation. 

138.  Specific  German  idtas  concerning  personal  freedom  and  rights  of  possession;  (not  259 
those  barbarians  as  misrepresented    by    Robinson  and  Guizot) — Two  sets  of  legalistic    ethics 
enjoined;     Dorner — History  to  grope  its  way  of  progress,  especially  in  matters  of  ethics.  Culdeaa 
Qospel-preachlng.     Boniface's    counteraction.     Later  consequences  of  Thuringian  aversion     to 
being  Romanized.     Subjective  piety — France  rash  to  accept  objective  ecclesiasticism.  Germans 

to  sustain   reciprocity  with   Rome   until   a  definite  settlement  could  be  reached.     Tension 
salutary  against  separatistic  subjectivism — Slaves  Byzantinized,  no  tension,  no  improvement. 

[39.  Fidelity  of  retainers  to  their  princes,  who  are  wardens  of  rights  under  oath.  Genesis  261 
of  constitutional,  representative  government.  Heliand  not  after  Byzant.  pattern.  Elective  king- 
ship based  upon  love  of  freedom,  parole  of  honor,  vow  of  fidelity.  Priestly  caste-rule  could 
not  establish  itself— Middle-High-Germans  never  completely  Romanised  despite  Boniface's 
diplomacy;  relationship  to  Culdean  Christianity  never  obliterated.  "Muspilli"  designates  the  end 
of  mythical  religiousness,whilst  simultaneously  the"Heliand"opens  the  aera  of  civilisation  proper 
—  Bearing  of  cultus  upon  culture  in  a  new  light:  Agriculture  the  first  domain  to  profit  from  the 
reinstatement  of  ethical  principles — Right  of  possession  and  "marks"  regulating  it,  develops 
another  form  of  jurisprudence. 

140.  Fundamental  cognitiops  of  German  rights  conditioned  by  discharge  of  duties.  German  "64 
"rights"  conflict  with  Roman  (canonic)  law— Serfdom,  humane  treatment  of  subjects.  Country 
nobility  upsets  the  simple  honest  methods  of  justice;  Sword-law;  Ecclesiatical  vassalage; 
Free  peasantry,  especially  in  France,  disappears.  Vassals  make  their  fealties  hereditary: 
Feudalism— Anarchism  of  upper  ranks,  changes  functional  departments  of  state — Transition  to 
modern  monarchism:  freedom  of  cities  against  eastern  invaders  and  feuds  of  the  nobility. 

141.  City  life  ;  affects  royal  prerogatives.  Municipal  and  episcopal  immunities  granted  266 
by  embarrassed  kings — Feudal  sociology  in  process  of  changing.  City-leagues;  Swiss  confeder- 
acy— Three  epochs  of  German  civic  polity:  i.  Imperial  banner  floating  over  free  cities.  2. 
Rediscovery  of  Pandects:  Council  of  Peace  to  settle  combatant  interests  by  "right  and  reason." 
ameliorating  the  anomalies  of  canonic  law  at  variance  with  German  rights;  legal  cognitions 
prevail  over  judgment  from  sentiment  by  sentences,  proverbs  etc — 3.  Bearing  of  the  victory  of 
Roman  jurisprudence  upon  agrarian  interests.  Value  of  a  person  measured  by  his  capacity  for 
taxation.  "Allodials"  now  parcelled  and  salable.  Changing  conditions  of  husbandry  cause 
corresponding  changes  in  "National  Economics,"  especially  since  ecclesiastical  functionaries 
("Canonics")  manage  marriages  and  inheritances. 


142.     Saxon  emperors  curb  the  secular  aspirations  of  the  clergy.     Reign  of  Otto  the  Great 


268 


resembles  that  of  Karl  the  Great.  Providential  arrangement  in  amalgamating  German  subjective* 
ness  with  Roman  objectivism.  Reappearance  of  those  forces  of  the  first  circle  furnishing  the 
pressure  necessary  to  unite  the  Germans — Tho  barred  out  on  the  German  side  orientalism 
succeeds  in  encroaching  the  Roman.  Henceforth  Mongolians  exert  influences  upon  the  history 
of  the  orient. 

III.  Ch.    Church  and  State.  269 

143.  Old  polar  tension  betw.  east  and  west  reinforced.  Militant  forces  in  array  upon 
European  arena — Humanism  tested  to  maintain  itself.  Germans  compelled  to  unite  ;  necessity 
of  union  felt  but  unwilling  to  relinquish  personal  selfhood  and  honorable  loyalty  ;  admiring 
Roman  organisatory  talent,  but  unwilling  to  swerve  from  a  natural  unity  of  national  growth 
under  internal  adjustment.  Not  disinclined  to  follow  the  demand  of  history,  but  contriving 
to  form  a  state  after  their  own  ideal — Religious  instinct  made  German  union  desirable,  but 
not  for  the  subjection  of  either  church  or  state.  Persistency  in  antagonistic  ideas  caused 
national  split  but  salutary  in  the  end,  270 

144.  Profound  interest  taken  in  religious  matters.  Influence  of  German  sincerity  upon 
Middle-ages.  Ecclesiastical  self  government  among  Goths  and  Franks.  Chlodwig  pocketing 
an  insult  at  his  baptism.  Henry,  the  Saxon's  independence  of  Rome — Charles  the  Bald, 
painted  by  monks,  memorialises  what  French  royalty  owed  the  hierarchy — Plato^Angustinian 
concept  works  mischief.  Contrast  betw.  the  beginning  and  end  of  Middle-ages.  Emperors 
too  weak  to  wear  crowns,  popes  strong  enough  to  transfer  them — German  idea  of  service  of  the 
crown  in  protecting  the  church  taken  advantage  of  by  the  popes  to  become  rulers;  the  more  the 
emperor  takes  his  office  in  a  religious  sense, the  more  does  the  pope  run  politics- "Sacred  orders" 
revived  to  form  a  standing  army  of  political  agitators.  "Investiture"  conflict— Excommunica- 
tion of  Henry  V — Laity  led  by  priests  against  princes — Offence  given  causes  people  to  side 
with  popery  and  power — Henry  Plantagenet —  Emperor  holds  pope's  stirrup— "Saxen- 
spiegel"  amended — Princes  deemed  servants  of  the  "vice-gods" — Hauck — Feudalism  applied 
against  recreant  kings,  their  vassals ;  nations  receive  dispensation  from  their  oaths  of  allegiance.  £72 

145.  Parallels  of  oriental  and  occidental  development  during  the  cyclical  epoch  at  A.  D. 
1200.     Emperor  and  pope,  sultan  and  caliph:  Scene   at  Bagdad:  reception   of  Togrul  Beg — 


XXII  II  G.       FIRST  AND  LARGEST  CIRCLE  OF  NATIONS. 

Crusades  utilized  by  the  "Holy  See."     Results  of  the  crusades.    Nations  benefitted— Widened 
horizon,  impulse  to  commerce ;  awakening  of  national  consciousness;  militant  orders— Other 
results  as  yet  occult — Idea  of  theocratic  rule  resented.     Frederick  II. 
IV.  Ch.    Church  State  and  Lamaism. 
274  146.     Ideas  to  work  themselves  through  difficulties — Dawn  of  enlightenment.     But  German 

consciousness  remodeled  by  introducing  oriental  legends  and  folk-lore ;  by  way  of  Persia,  Arabia, 
Spain.  Waitz— Benfey — Magic  nigiit  covers  the  countries  of  the  setting  sun — Ecclesiastical 
miracles  based  upon  Hindoo  phantasms  of  metamorphoses.  Buddha  canonized  —Picture  of  the 
world  as  refracted  in  monkish  brains  of  13th  century. 

276  147.  Chasm  betw.  real  existence  and  human  destiny  reappears,  practically  a  relaspe  into 
Hindooism —  Abhorrence.  of  mundane  conditions  —Platonic  reality.  Flight  frovn  the  world 
means  fight  against  the  state.  State  to  abandon  itself  to  "God's  vicar" — Enrichment  of  the 
''mortmain" — Coenobial  communism.     Buddha— Platonism  fulfledged. 

277  148.  Semitic  legalism  added  to  Hindoo  contempt  of  nature.  -''Compel  them  to  come  in"- 
The  kind  of  Church-extension  demanded  of  the  state,  the  necessary  evil — Aquinas.  Tolerance  is 
cruelty,  Augustine.  Gregory  VII  completes  ecclestical  supremacy.  Crusades  against  heretics — 
Merits  of  mediaeval  church — Import  ofMontecasino. 

279  149.  Causes  and  effects  the  same,  under  the  pope  as  under  the  Dalai  Lama — Scene  in 
modern  Tibet — Demonstrative  pilgrimages  etc.  the  same  in  Potala  as  in  Poland — Scene  in 
modern  Rome— Redeeming  feature:  mysticism  of  Meister  Eckhard — Art  frees  itself  from 
Byzantinism. 

SEVJiNTH  DIVISION  (II  Q  )  First  and  Largest  Circle  of  Nations:  Turano-Mongolians. 

280  Syllabus.  Mongolian  as  beating  upon  European  culture.  Invasions  instrumental  in  estab- 
lishing trans-oceanic  relations  and  international  intercourse.  Mediterranean  communication 
passes  over  to  oceanic  dimensions. 

I  Ch.    Turano'MongoIian  Bearings  upon  European  Civilization. 

281  ^^^'  Organism  of  the  church's  inner  life  encysted  by  pagan  elements — Structural  part  of 
the  system:  Graeco-Roman;  functional  parts:  Semito-Buddhistic  elements;  mediums  transmitting 
them  —Two  sets  of  ethics  for  two  grades  of  Romanized  humanity — Aggressiveness  of  Asiatics 
the  indirect  means  of  dispelling  the  confounded  and  distracted  views  of  life — Fall  of  Athens — 
Turcomans  in  sight — Ambassadors  (monks)  to  Mongol,  courts — Poetical  legends  revive  the 
dread  of  Mongol,  invasion  (Raumer) — Dgengis  in  Southern  Asia,  Batukhan  in  Eastern  Europe. 
Just  in  time  when  papal  power  is  in  its  prime  and  the  German  empire  is  demoralised  ;  simultan- 
eous with  the  investiture  of  the  Asiatic  pope — Culture  of  Korakorum,  Bagdad  etc — Byzantine 
emperor  sends  tribute  to  Timur — Suliman  leading  a  group  of  fugitive  Turks — Fall  of  Constanti' 
nople —Fugitives  of  A.  D.  1453  incite  Italy  to  study  the  classics;  "humanistics" — Historic  task, 
of  Constantinople  transferred  to  Russia;  "Eastern  question"  in  the  foreground — Sycophant 
funeral  eulogy  at  Byzantium. 

284  ^^^-  "Renaissance:"  Not  because  of  the  arrival  of  St.  Andrew's  alleged  head  to  the 
Successor  of  his  brother — Italy's  receptivity  for  the  more  valuable  bequest,  the  humanistic 
thought  of  Hellas — Self-reliance  and  self-government  of  citizens — Cosimo  Medici,  Petrarca  and 
the  novelty  of  "an  infidel"  in  Florence — Humanistics  scandalized. 

2g5  152.  Renaissance  at  the  Fren«h  court — Benvenuto— Tizian— "Gargantua"  of  Rabelais; 
burlesque  compromise  betw.  libertinism  and  absolutism;  Hütten  and  German  enthusiasts — 
New  formations  of  social  life — Cause  of  womanhood  better  served  than  by  chivalry —  Econom- 
ics founded  upon  statistics — Architecture — This  transitory  period  cannot  be  fairly  judged 
unless  by  the  contrast  betw.  antique-mediae  val  culture  and  the  evangelical  world -theory — 
Failings  of  the  "Gospel  of  Nature"  obvious  under  meditation  of  the  secondary  good  as 
appreciated  by  the  "Gospel  of  free  Grace" — Direct  effects  of  Turano-Mongol.  commotions  : 
diffusion  of  the  humanistic  thought  causes. the  regeneration  of  occidental  worId°consciousness — 
This  renders  the  conciliation  of  real  life  with  human  destiny  intelligible  and  sets  the  mind  free 
to  criticise  Semitic  legalism  and  formalism,  to  emancipate  itself  from  Buddhistic   pessimism. 

2g>^        II  Ch.    Widening  of  the  horiiomJEra  of  Discoveries. 

153.  Sudden  advance  upon  the  whole  line.  Man  having  discovered  himself  makes  for 
the  discovery  of  his  world — Cyprus  and  Sicily  depositories  for  remnants  of  every  culture  in 
the  Mediterranean  basin.  Cesnola — Genesis  of  modern  commerce  and  trans-oceanic  inter- 
course, as  connected  with  Mongolo-Turanian  commotions— Moors  blockade  the  Venetian 
routes  of  traffic — Corsairs  became  the  direct  cause  of  new  marine  enterprises.  Columbus  com- 
missioned by  Ferdinand  at  the  Alhambra  coincident  with  expulsion  of  Arabic  rule  from  Spain. 

288  ^^^'  Vasco  de  Gama  doubles  Cape  of  Good  Hope — Christians  draw  anchor  at  Calicut — 
The  earth  taken  in  full  possession — Albuquerque  trades  with  China — Cortez  conquers  Mexico: 
a  prelude  to  the  storming  of  Pekin — Toltecian  culture  in  Peru — Inca  and  China  compared — 
Europe's  surprise,  news  of  Mongol,  culture  arrives  simultaneously  from  east  and  west — Changes 
wrought  by  the  discoveries  —Dawn  of  the  grandest  era  since  the  divide  of  the  times. 

289  ^55-  Geography  proper  begins  with  discovery  of  Brazil.  Copernicus — Humanity  explor- 
ing at  the  same  time  the  oceans  and  the  heavens — New  cognitions  slowly  forming  as  to  space 
and  time— Luther's  remarks  as  to  the  reconstruction  of  astronomy— Roman  inability  to  judge 
what  was  going  on  in  Germany — Liberating  effects  of  the  discovery — Back  to  the  spiritual 
center — New  standard  of  superiority:  spiritual  quality  instead  of  physical  quantity — New 
views  upon  the  spiritual  world — Both  forms  of  existence  as  congruent  entities  in  living  inter- 
relations without  eliminating  the  aseity  of  either — Superstitions  as  to  astral  determinism 
abandoned. 


II  G.      FIRST  AND  LARGEST  CIRCLK  OF  NATIONS.  XXIII 

III  Ch.    The  Germanic  North  and  the  Religious  Reform. 

156.  Religious  side  of  humanistics  at  the  base  of  advancement— Two  periods  of  ecclesias-  29l 
tical  activity:  externally  fortified,  internally  edified;  objectiveness:  dominion;  subjectiveness: 
freedom — Polarity  of  German  and  Roman  inclinations  to  flee  and  still  seek  each  other— Priest- 
ly arrogance  provokes  a  spirit  of  opposition— No  political  defiance  like  that  of  Arnold  of  Brescia 
—Lollards,  Friends  of  God,  Waldensians,  Moravians— Attempted  reforms  as  those  of  Clugny 
could  not  succeed;  tho  opportunities  of  reform  had  offered  themselves  at  the  time  of    Henry  II. 

157.  Now  is  the  time  for  the  necessary  reforms.  Anton  Guenther— Religious  advance  292 
prejudiced  through  revolutionary  turmoils— Roman  polity  extremely  corrupted:  Ambassador's 
report  to  Venice — Mysticism  had  protested  on  the  part  of  conscience— Book  of  the  nations 
regained  for  the  world— Deformation  reviewed.  Church-intercession  had  displaced  the  Savior — 
Fundamental  significance  of  the  sacraments  re-established— A  world'theory  implied  in  the  ordi- 
nance of  the  Lord's  Supper. 

158.  Fulcrum  of  the  Reformation:  The  Word  of  the  Cross:  not  scientific  progress.  Sacra-  294 
ment  as  touchstone  of  sound  theology,  keystone  of  ecclesiastical  organisation,  corner-stone  of 
religious  edification  and  Christian  gnosis,  upon  which  the  welfare  of  the  nation  hinges — 
Theology  not  recognising  the  Copernican  theory,  in  large  measure  causing  the  discrepancies 
batw.  Luther  and  Zwingli  —Immanency  of  Divine  essence  and  nature  in  nature  and  history — New 
conception  held  in  common:  celestial  form  of  existence  concurrent  with  historic  reality — 
Ancient  views  of  the  world  dispelled  forever. 

159.  Ethical  import  of  the  reformed  "Communion" — Personal  freedom  guarded  against  296 
selfish  separaiiou  by  virtue  of  the  organic  embodiment — Church  organism  perpetuated  to- 
gether with  the  sacramental  union— No  human  intercession — True  equality  demonstrated  at 
the  Feast  of  the  King  "of  the  common  people."  Good  works  receive  their  value  from  personal 
character,  not  vice  versa — As  fruits  of  "the  tree"  they  afford  no  occasion  for  boasting — The 
world  not  so  mean  as  to  be  avoided  in  the  exercise  at  the  "apparatus" — Domain  of  duties  of 
state  circumscribed — Separation  of  political  from  ecclesiastical  government — Protest  of  Spire  the 
first  declaration  of  independence. 

160.  The  reform  of  the  commemoration  of  the  Great  Sacrifice  and  sesthetics — Secondary  298 
good  valued  and  used  as  consecrated  to,  and  designed  for,  the  realm  of  glory — Painting 
Rafael  Duerer — German  choral — Interest  in  the  history  of  the  fatherland  awakened— Study 
rendered  attractive  and  useful,  labor  honorable — Industry  invigorated  as  much  as  science — 
People  bold  to  believe  that  eternal  truth  needs  no  human  props:  least  of  all  intolerance — Koran 
printed  in  Basel — Communism  attempted  in  monasticism  and  to  be  transplanted  by  "peasants 
wars" — Denominational  "confession"  or  "symbols  of  faith"  necessary  to  shelter  liberty. 

161.  Protestantism  vindicated.   De  Lavalaye — Christianity  has  nothing  to  fear  from  isms— 299 
Tolerance  without  indifference.  Bodin    —The  law  of  differentiation  valid  here  as  in  nature — 
Church  divisions  inducive  to  activity — Narrow    conceptions  of  God's  kingdom;   its  extent — 
Filthy  sediments  came  to  the  surface  together  with  the  pearls. 

162.  Deficiencies  of  Protestantism. — Calvinism  compelled  by  circumstances  to  cultivate  300 
the  domain  of  ethics  in  resisting  despotic  persecutions.  Good  morals  and  discipline  necessary 
for  ecclesiastical  self-government — Man's  thoughts  more  influenced  by  his  deeds,  than  deeds  by 
theories:  Fr.  Jacobi — Lutheranism,  pure  doctrine;  vested  the  ethical  problems  with  the  crowns- 
Thought  of  humanism  misapprehended  when  Holland  fought  Philip  almost  singlehanded;  but 
developed  the  more  thrifty — Forebodings  of  the  age  of  missions. — Resume  and  prospect — 
Swift  advance  under  Divine  guidance. 

IV  Ch.    The  Counter-Reformation. 

163.  Triangle:    Rome- Madrid-Paris — Habsburgian   power   a    menace  to  the   reform    is  801 
menaced  by  the  Turks— Janizars:  Impress  received  by  the  Latin  nations  during  conflicts  with' 
the  Moslim — L.  v.  Ranke. — Spanish  mettle  suitable  for  being  forged  into  weapons  of  the  curia. 
The  Spanish  Order  and  secret  of  its  successes. 

164.  Merits  of  Jesuitism — Probabilism  of  Talmud  and  fanaticism  of  Ishmael — Pugnacious  803 
and  fatalistic — System  of  allowances,accdg.  to  decrees  of  the  imams ;  bearing  marks  of  Semitism: 
oneness,  rule,  persistency,  extirpation  of  opponents,  experts  in  the  use  of  the  press — Charming 
rulers  and  subjects — Conscience  by  proxy;  Escobar  cited — Confessional  requires  legalistic 
casuistry — Classification  of  sins  and  fines — Jesuitical  drill  on  line  with  that  of  Janizars,  into 
obeyance  of  a  will  not  their  own — Alienation  from  family  affection  -  The  world  fo  be  mystified  as 

to  the  machinery  and  aims  of  either  the  curia  or  the  "order" — "Propaganda"  to  curb  Protes- 
tantism—Intimacy betw.  the  order  and  the  court— Masters  in  pedagogy  -Absolute  monarchism 
appears  for  the  first  time  in  the  Christian  Occident. 

165.  Humanity  ever  gravitates  to  compact  units:  in  stagnant  empires— Progress  of  true  305 
humanism  depends  upon  opposition  to  Rome — Object  of  "denominational  absolutism" — Maximil- 
ian s  attempt  to  become  pope.  No  more  dangerous  was  Charles  V  to  humanism — Philip  II, 
disciple,  patron,  and  tool  of  Jesuitism—  Doing  things  "in  quiet."  Prescott — Deadly  stillness 
about  the  Escorial — Jesuitical  latitudinarianism  suits  the  people  of  Vienna  better  thanCalvinistic 
discipline— Courtliness  among  the  Germans  foi  the  first  time — A  sample  of  servility— Jesuitism 
and  Poland. 

166.  Courtly  absolutism  in  France — Doctrine  of  ''Balance  of  power"   set  up  at  expense  of  807 
the  Huguenots.  Night  of  Bartholomew.     Perefixe— Caidinals  RicheHeu,  Polignac;  Buckle,  Guizot. 

— Morals  of  Europe  poisoned — Coriuption  of  the  papal  couit,  Polignac's  confession — France's 
losses  the  gains  of  England  and  Prussia — Reason  ot  Jesuits  falling  in  disgrace  at  the  Hofburg 
— Pombal.    Choisseul— Regicide.     William  the  Taciturn  assassinated.    Motley— Fruits  of  Jesuitism 


XXIV  II  G.      FIRST  AND  I^ARGKST  CIRCI.B  OF  NATIONS. 

where  it  reigned  at  pleasure.      Romanism  popular,    nevertheless — The  typical  figure  of  the 
counter- reformation;  in  contrast  to  Laurentius,  his  patron-saint. 

V  Ch.    Absolutism)    Enlightenment,  deranging  the  Thought  of  Humanism. 

167.     Full  extent  of  this  cognition — Spirit  of  inquiry  awakened;  the  Bible  and  God-con- 

^^  sciousness  the  criterion  set  up  by  the  Reformation— Emancipated  minds  fearing  another  popery 
take  world-consciousness  for  their  sole  criterion.  Cursory  attempt  to  set  up  the  conception  of 
that  humanism  which  had  been  outraged  by  ecclesiasticism— The  reformation,  single-handed, 
had  established  the  true  and  full  meaning  of  humanism:  I.  relative  to  man's  destiny  for  the 
higher  world:  order  of  salvation;  2,  relative  to  present  conditions  of  existence:  self°culture — 
This  dual  position  of  man  now  given  up,  either  part  to  be  cultivated  at  the  expense  of  the 
other — Precept  and  project  of  evangelical  Christianity,  proper  blending  of  sacred  with  secular 
concerns— Onesided  theories  caricature  either  religion  or  ethics— Sum  and  substance  of  the 
thought  as  formulated  by  the  reformation. 

311''  ^^^-  Distortions  of  this  thought— Radicalism  restricted  by  the  Church,  which  protects  the 
freedom  once  procured— Enmity  to  Christian  thought  not  to  be  foiled  by  force — Romanism 
had  not  been  able  to  crush  free  thought  upon  its  own  territories.  Strossmayer— Christine, 
daughter  of  Gustave  Adolphus  ridiculing  the  popes— Results  of  Philip's  broodings  to  force 
the  inquisition  upon  Holland:  Calvinistic  nations  become  maritime  powers;  Hugo  Qrotius  writes 
on  "International  Law;'  Water=beggars  found  New  York— A  Dutch  soldier  muses  about  his  "ego" — 
Man  as  the  major  premise  put  in  central  position — Significance  of  Descartes  speculation: 
"Aufklaerung"  in  its  scientific  beginnings. 

3J2  169.  Saxon  element  with  its  propensity  for  subjectivism — Calvinistic  synods  and  repre- 
sentative government — Queen  Elizabeth — Shakespeare  is  for  the  people  what  Descartes  was  to 
the  scholars,  pointing  out  the  way  in  which  philosophy  of  hist,  is  to  proceed— Hume  considers 
humanism  under  the  low  aspect  of  naturalism — Rousseau  shows  how  little  religion  man  needs 
to  be  happy — English  deism  translated  into  French  sensualism  by  Voltaire — Results  of  this 
enlightenment  of  the  "Encyclopedists"  summed  up  by  Carlyle.  Encyclopedia  proscribed  by 
the  French  government;  its  authors  feted  by  Frederick  the  Great. 

314  ^7°'  State  absolutism  and  pantheistical  indifference  nourish  one  another  (Hegel) — 
Enlightened  despotism  tolerates  all  except  the  Christian  cognition  of  humanism:  A  state-church 
with  an  enlightened  "Landesvater"  as  bishop  ex-ofiicio  keeps  the  religious  side  of  the  thought 
of  humanity  in  bondage — Cabals  of  cabinets  disregard  not  only  the  idea  of  personality  but  also 
the  principle  of  nationality— Reaction  of  enlightened  subjectivism  against  enlightened 
absolutism. 

31"  171.  Right  of  private  judgment  abused  in  onesided  inquiry  as  to  humanistic  problems — 
Denial  of  the  mind's  duality  aj^gravates  the  confusion,  leaves  a  world-theory  and  all  forms  of 
civilised  life  without  a  center  of  cohesion — Nations  disintegrate  under  a  humanism  which 
disparages  theism — Effects  thereof  upon  jurisprudence— Humanism  to  supplant  rationalism  in 
religion  (Herder)  The  church  cannot  fill  the  place  of  the  true  center  of  humanity  (Schleiermacher, 
Kaftan)  This  to  enlightened  thinking  had  become  obsolete— State  ceases  to  be  Christian  to  the 
great  satisfaction  of  papists. 

VI  Ch.    Civilisation  rendered  Trans-oceanic  and  the  Thought  of  Humanism  Cosmopolitan. 

317  172.  State-churchism  paralysed — A  reaction— Xurn  of  the  tide  bearing  upon  ils  enlarging 
wave-circles,  the  neglected  religious  side  of  humanism — New  era  created  not  by  intellect- 
ualism,  but  by  extending  trans-marine  relations  which  require  the  energy  of  the  free  will- 
Contact  with  Mongolians  rendered  permanent  through  a  new  kind  of  colonisation — Revival 
of  missionary  impulses — Latin  nations,  controlling  the  seas,  take  the  initiative — Scene  at  Rome: 
Asia  paying  homage  to  the  pope— Patriarchal  authority  not  transferable  to  the  extent  of  a  world- 
empire. 

318  173-  Germanic  nations  make  different  use  of  trans-oceanic  connections — Signal  success  of 
the  water-beggars — Roman  marines  assigned  to  secondary  import — Fate  of  the  Hindoos  since 
the  isolation  through  Islam — English  investments  in  India  for  mutual  benefit.  Heeren — Higher 
than  mercenary  profits:  Revival  of  missionary  zeal  invigorates  religious  life  at  home — Anglo- 
Saxons  to  divide  the  bequest  made  by  the  Testator  with  eastern  relatives. 

320  174.  Benefits  accruing  to  Europe  from  the  American  reaction  against  corrupted  concep- 
tions of  the  humanistic  thought — The  Pilgrims  on  board  of  the  "Mayflower"— The  human  right  to 
live  independently,The  grand  document  of  modern  civilisation — Norman  traits  discarded, 
Anglo-Saxon  fostered — Career  of  David  Crockett;  Illustr.  North- American  pioneer  life  and 
specific  national  character — Labor  for  common  interests  procures  the  true  level  of  human  and 
dignified  equality — Antiquated  conventionalities  abated — Experimentary  test  whether  the 
Good  or  the  Bad  is  more  attractive  and  gives  better  satisfaction. 

321  175.  Retrospect  upon  European  precedents  which  condition  the  success  of  the  above 
experiment — Thirty  years  war  a  necessity  to  preserve  freedom — Contest  of  intrigues  ended 
"without  an  ideal."  Hegel  — Europe  exhausted;  Germany,  its  battle  field,  empoverished, 
paralysed  except  in  mental  activity — Cause  of  freedom  negatively  furthered  by  Jesuitism, 
taken  up  positively  by  the  great  jurists  Hoppes,  Grotius,  Pufendorf,  etc.— Small  beginnings  of 
representative  government  in  Rhode  Island— Why  England  escaped  the  craze  of  the  French  Revo- 
lution? (Lecky)  Wesleyan  (Zinzendorf)  revivalism — Genuine  religiousness  alone  assures  national 
freedom  and  prosperity — The  entire  world  ready  for  the  first  time  to  be  imbued  with  higher 
influences — Universal  history  proper  begins — Oceans  bear  messages:  also  from  spheres  above 
to  sgheres  abroad — The  thought  of  humanism  in  its  fulness  acknowledged  as  "the"  cardinal 
factor  of  civilisation" 


II  G.      FIRST  AND  I,A.RGEST  CIRCI.K  OF  NATIONS.  XXV 

VII  Ch.     Cognition  of  Humanity  in  its  Distortions. 

176.  Grand  prospects  in  view — All  potentialities  latent  in  human  nature  assume  tangible  323 
shapes — Abyss  yawning  in  close  proximity  to  the  summit— Effects  of  the   French  Revolution 
threatening  repetition  on  larger  scope.  Evils  as  means  of  preservation:  To  keep  man  susceptible 

to    something  better — Influence  of  obscure  nations,  incite  sympathy  and  missionary  activity —  , 
Correctness  of  interpreting  signs  of  better  days  is  conditioned  by  the  way   the  golden   rule 
is  applied. 

177.  Aim  of  history,  tho  plainly  revealed  yet  shrouded  in   mystery — Mode  of  restoring  325 
the  "image"— Cause  of  humanity  distortioned  now  in  the  church,  then  by  the  world:   Genesis 

of  revolutions:  Chateaubriand — Eu  lish  revolution  as  compared  with  the  French,  Cromwells  army. 

178.  Cause  of  the  French  revolution— Opportunities  of  normal  development  neglected.  326 
Gerson- Beza  in  Poissy.  Huguenots  not  bent  upon  social  overthrow — Suppression  of  the  relig- 
ious reform— First  symptoms  of  morbidity  in  French  literature — Parallel  with  the  age  of 
Boethius — L/egitimists,  "Mortmain"  exempt  from  taxation — Privacy  of  the  cabinets— Class- 
privileges  —Masquerade  of  Klot>ts'  representatives  of  the  human  race — The  humanity  required 
for  reconstruction  not  at  hand — Reaction  under  Napoleon,  despising  such  humanity — His 
program  ready  for  erecting  a  universal  tlieocracy  previous  to  tlie  Russian  campaign. 

179.  Ivcssons  derived  from  the  experiments  to  establish  humanism  without  and  in  spite  829 
of  God— Rousseau's  threadbare  theory  put  to  a  practical  test  jeopardised  humanism.     DeMaistre 

— Responsibility  of  the  hierarchy  and  of  the  real  instigators — Epidemic  nature  of  such 
paroxisms — Advantages  after  stormy  times,  in  which  history  unmakes  that  which  seems  to 
make  history— Overthrows  administer  wholesome  humiliation  to  artificial  culture. 

VIII  Ch.    Cosmopolitan  World=Theories.    European  System  of  States. 

180.  Germany  once  more  encounters  false  humanism,  now  that  of  freethinking  worldli-  331 
ness — National  boundaries  broken  down  for  a  few  decades  by  anarchy  and  despotism;  profound 
reforms  were  procured  and  rendered  permanent — Klopstock  shows  in  Milton's  strain  the  idea  of 
humanity  in  his  "Messias" — Literary  reaction  against  infidelity  initiated  by  Hamann — Religious 
realism.  Oettinger  — German  antique  and  Tauler's  mysticism  revered — but  captivated  by 
Romanticism — Relapse  into  national  narrow-mindedness^  clannishness — Conspiracy  against 
liberalism,  meaning  Protestantism — Jesuitism  applies  the  power  of  the  press— Papal  infallibility 
advised  by  DeMaistre,  as  a  basis  for  social  order  and  the  reconstruction  of  Europe — Haller's 
intrigues —Metternich's  intrigues — Revolutions  hatched  in  Romanised  countries. 

181.  Examination  of  the  persistant  tendency  to  repristinate  oriental  views  upon  Europe-  333 
an  forms  of  government,  aiming  at  the  establishment  of  a  world-empire— Catholicism  and  the 
task  assigned  to  it,  in  counter-position  to  Protestantism — Romanism  will  not  acknowledge  the 
necessity  of  being  providentially  complemented  by  Protestantism;  persists  in  the  wrong  course 
—Flexibility  of  principles  renders  it  an  unreliable  custodian  of  the  thought  of  humanism — 
Possibility  of  modifying  Catholicism  is  forestalled  by  "papal  infallibility." 

182.  Reaction  against  Roman  orientalism  by  way  of  modern  "national  economics." — Ger-  335 
man  cognition  of  rights  is  adverse  to  absolutism  of  one  person — Oriental  ideas  as  to  state-power 
imposed  upon  Germans — Genesis  of  the  "system  of  states" — Conformity  of  political  arrange- 
ments and  international  rights  founded  upon  common  assent;  system  the  stronger  for  the 
want  of  written  instruments — Secrecy  of  cabinets  obnoxious  but  necessary  to  maintain  the 
"Balance  of  Power" — Machiavellian  devices  headed  off  by  William  II  of  Orange —  Mercantile 
transactions  demand  reconstruction  of  financial  methods — Militarism — Organism  of  modern 
government,  differentiated  departments. 

183.  Christianity  charged  to  carry  out  the  thought  of  organized   humanity — Rome  fell  3^" 
back  on  "theocracy" — Westphalian  peace   did  not  dismember  Germany;   but  Austria's  pre- 
ponderance curtailed — Germany  to  poise  national  polarities,  to  cultivate  interstate  relationship 
and  international  culture;  resists  the  rearing  of  a  Roman  world  power  upon  oriental   premises 

— "Congress  of  Vienna" — "Holy  Alliance" — Not  the  pope  but  the  princes  advance  fraternal 
relations.  Treischke — Monarchies  as  yet  indispensable  in  Europe  in  the  face  of  the  rapidly  growing 
power  of  money — Corrupting  influences  of  capital — Making  and  unmaking  legislatures,  pro- 
voking social  upheavals — Dutiful  monarchs  as  safe-guards  against  radicalism  and  factitious 
contests  which  render  social  standing  insecure— Nervosity  of  public  life  most  unpleasant 
feature  of  modern  republics. 

184.  Reactionary  alloy  in  the  "Holy  Alliance" — It  is  perverted  to  prolong  cabinet-rule —  339 
Corporate  representation  of  the  people  frustrated— Royal  promises  eclipsed  by  advisers  of  the 
crowns:  Metternich,  Qentz,  Beust — Austrian  hegemony  in   German  diet  becomes   unendurable; 
academic  youth  demands  unity  of  the  nation — Their  patriotic  zeal  compared  to  national  games 

of  Greece— 'Regeneration  of  the  fatherland" — Necessities  of  the  time  but  vaguely  compre- 
hended— Arndt — Decline  of  middle-classes. 

IX  Ch.    The  Thought  of  Humanism  philosophically  conceived  and  socially  applied. 

185.  Formal  reinstatement  of  man   to  be  traced  to   its  essential  source,    the  reformation  ^^^ 
— Renaissance,  void  of  evangelical  Godconsciousness,  was  rendered  profane  under  sway  of  en- 
lightenment— Contents  of  the  thought  to  be  realised  in  every  particular;  this  revelation  not  to 

be  forcibly  restrained — Romanticism  calls  forth  the  "philosophy  of  identity"  which  is  to 
obtain  a  monistic  view  of  life — All  orientalism  combined  In  Spinoza — His  "substance"  but  Hmdoo- 
ism  pure  and  simple  in  the  Semitic  version;  he  is  in  a  clandestine  way  the  father  of  Hegel's 
pantheism  which  is  ever  fostered  by  political  absolutism-Man  represents  the  cosmos  (Schelling) 
at  the  apex  of  creation — lUustr.  pyramid  is  the  microcosm.  Lotze— He  is  the  completion  of 
an  infinite  past,  turning-point  of  an  unlimited  presence;  concealed  starting-point  of  an  infinite 
future. 


XXVI  II  G.      FIRST  AND  I,ARGKST  CIRCI.E:   OF  NATIONS. 

343  i86.  Genesis  of  Socialism — Examples  of  the  fact  that  theories  tend  to  materialise  them- 
selves in  social  reconstructions — Onesided  humanism  clamors  for  right  but  is  silent  as  to  duties — 
Manchestrian  sociology —  Freemasonry — Social  ranks  levelled— Furier  attempts  with  enthusiasm 
to  harmonise  human  passions  with  legitimate  desires. — Louis  Blanlc's  experiment— Comparison 
betw.  French  and  German  socialism — "Wealth  of  Nations."  Ad.  Smith. 

344  187.  Ivatest  phase  of  socialistic  experimenting,  to  establish  humanitarianism  upon 
materialistic  premises  —Solution  of  the  problem  requires  answer  to  three  questions.  L.  Stein — 
Resources  of  capital,  movable,  secure,  and  powerful;  Transmarine  enterprises — Mercantile 
polity  of  cabinets — Parallel  with  Rome  previous  to  its  decline — Capital's  market-stand  the 
world:  monopolies — Class-antagonism — Labor  learned  from  capital  to  combine  and  to  discard 
patriotism  from  "international"  interests— German  enterprise  could  only  revive  after  the 
United  "States  were  fully  established,  and  each  had  settled  its  own  "unpleasantness" — Treaties 
of  both  with  China — Capital  has  set  out  on  its  career  of  conquest. 

346  188.     Self-salvation    expected   from   reorganisation — Some  Germans  theorising  again — 

The  Jews  in  socialism — Fallacies  on  account  of  truths  ignored  or  distorted — Vicissitudes  of  the 
socialistic  state  of  the  future — Practical  results  of  materialistic  misconception  of  humanity 
would  be  the  return  to  the  undifferentiated  protoplasmic  lump— Buddhistic  all-one-ness— Main 
question  as  to  its  aim  Socialism  dodges;  ignorance  candidly  admitted— Blame  of  the  fiasco 
would  rest  with  those  who  allow  Germanic  Christian  civilization  to  decline — Part  of  the  church 
in  mitigating  social  troubles — Rearrangement  of  political  economy  the  urgent  necessity — Not 
even  governments  based  upon  election  by  majorities  are  satisfactory  unless  the  Germanic 
maxim  is  heeded  that  "to  rule  means  to  serve" — Pantheism  sublimates  the  "ego"  of  which  then 
the  precipitated  sediment  is  taken  into  still  worse  treatment  by  materialism — What  refuse  is  left 
by  the  latter  of  the  ''ego" — A  bad  sign  of  the  times:  problem   trifled  with  in  higher  "society." 

X  Ch.    Aryans  of  Eastern  Europe.    Greek  Catholicism.    Asiatic  Renaissance. 

349  189.  Prospect — Christian  nations  by  name  spread  culture,  actually  rule  the  world — 
Ethnical  debris  of  Africa,  solid  masses  of  Islam  and  Buddhism — Ethical  task  to  redeem  arrested 
life — Program  of  the  new  era:  Missions— Slavish  nations  -Russians,  with  much  foreign  alloy- 
Prone  to  amalgamate  rather  than  analyse— Purpose  of  the  agglomerate  colossal  state — 
Apparatus  to  civilise  the  East  after  the  inethod  of  Wladimir  the  Great. 

350  190-  Russia  the  heir  of  East=Rome  ecclesiastically — Greek  Catholicism  void  of  spiritual  energy 
— Wealth  of  the  church,  abject  position  of  the  clergy — Peter  the  Great  copied  Louis'  XIV 
absolutism — Raw  material  of  Russian  aristocracy — Serfdom  abolished  ;  peasantry  in  starving 
condition— Foreign  culture  rejected,  Kirgees' Shamanism  left  unmolested — Byzantine  character 
stamped  upon  architecture.  Byzantine  pomp  retained,  Asiatic  barbarism  added— Kugler — 
Study  of  languages — Book  trade  of  Kasan 

352  191»  Russia  the  heir  of  Byzantism  politically— Fall  of  Trebizond  ;  Bessarion— "Eastern  ques- 
tion" of  early  origin — Nine  crowns  outline  the  course  of  the  Russian  future — Russia  not  at  all 
stagnant:  Slavonic  folk-lore  (Schaffarick)  revives  Panslavistic  sympathies — Political  inheritance 
•  from  the  Mongolian  empire —Designs  since  Dgengis — What  Barborassa's  successor  had 
declined,  Batu  had  accomplished— State-churchism  in  Asia— Napoleon's  dream  of  theocratic 
rule  was  Mongolian  in  its  conception. 

354  192.  Islam  had  so  far  baffled  Russian  plans — Mohammedanism  as  yet  formidable  in 
Russia  itself.  Duties  conferred  upon  Russia  incident  to  its  taking  possession  of  the  bequest — 
Semitism  still  the  "wedge"  in  form  of  "crescent" — Russia's  first  task  to  push  aside  the  bolt 
of  Turano-Semitism — Merw.  Goek-Tepe — Construction  of  railroads — Russia's  qualifications 
and  prospects  of  the  XXth.  century. 

35*i  193  Romanic  and  Germanic  nations  as  to  their  leadership  in  future  progress — America 
may  outrival  Europe  at  the  head  of  civilisation  :  Hegel — Decline  of  Europe  would  not  accrue 
to  the  elevation  of  the  United  States — Course  of  culture  from  Germanic  upon  Romanised 
nations — Real  dangers  of  American  civilisation  (J.  Strong.) — Conditions  under  which  the 
dangers  may  be  averted — Moorish  characteristics  stamped  upon  Mexico. 

357  194  Effects  of  Romanism  upon  Africa:  colonies  labor  under  the  difficulties  of  the  mother- 
countries  which  did  not  go  through  the  process  of  the  reform — Line  Sidney=Zansibar  English 
— Line  MoscowSamarkand-Port  Arthur  under  Russian  sw^y — Obstructions  of  Islam  cleared  away 
on  both  sides.  British  influence  upon  India.  Its  rapid  transformation  makes  British  success 
in  Asia  problematical — History  completes  its  circuit  around  the  globe — Series  of  fire-signals 
closed  by  storming  Pekin — China  forced  to  concessions,  but  not  into  acceptance  of  Christiani- 
ty— Asia  the  Russian  empire  of  the  future. 

358  195«  Proof  of  Mongol,  migrations  to  be  expected  when  Chinese  annals  are  being  disclosed 
— Palaeontological  charactei  of  America  and  Polynesia — Discoveries  in  Central- America:  Ratzel. 
Lorenzo  de  Bienvenidor.  Ferguson — American  culture  Asiatic  without  a  doubt — Mongoloid 
element  recognizable  from  the  mixture  everywhere,  same  as  it  lies  bare  upon  the  surface  in 
places  where  access  is  as  yet  to  be  gained. 

3fjO  196.  Purposive  march  of  civilisation  from  Mediterranean  to  tlie  Atlantic  and  across  the 
Pacific  oceans — The  purport  coming  to  notice — People  arrested  in  their  development  are  drawn 
in  at  the  rate  of  the  velocity  of  the  electric  spark — Latest  and  last  phase  ot  history:  disintegration 
of  the  Mongolian  lump— History  then  will  turn  from  widening  its  extent  to  intensifying  its  humane 
contents— Significance  of  the  three  Mediterraneans — Three  units  of  civilization.  American- 
Germanic — Asia-Slavonic— Africa, Romano-Germanic — Secular  interests  settled,  ethical  ends 
to  be  consummated. 


II  G.       FIRST  CIRCLE  OF  NATIONS:    AGK  OF  IMISSIONS.  XXVH 

XI  Ch.     Ethnical  Chaos  resulting  from  the  corrupted  Cognition  of  Humanity. 

197.  Resume  of  Ihe  dangers  to  which  the  cause  of  humanis-ni  is  exposed  upon  its  course  861 
of  extension — Final  issue  of  progress:  will  reveal  what  use  man  had  made  of  his  endowments 
and  opportunities — Humanity  as  reinstated  by  the  glorified  Redeemer  in  order  that  by  it  the 
world  may  be  spiritualised.  Deformations  and  reformations  of  this  thought;  its  Jewish  and 
gentile  adumbrations — False  spirituality — asceticism  ;  natural  side  emphasised  :  worldliness  of 
the  renaissance — Identity-philosophy:  religious  side  entirely  discarded  -Temporal  prosperity 
jeopardized;  materialism  claims  first  rank  for  its  world-theory— Homogeneity  of  unrestricted 
egoism— Humanity  made  a  mechanical  "association  of  production  and   consume" — Misgivings  as 

to  vsuch  a  fabric,  (Lemontry,  Perthes,)  poorly  qualified  to  unite  men  into  the  great  brotherhood 
— Changes  incident  to  city  and  industrial  life,  and  in  economics — No  progress  toward  general 
welfare — Marx,  Sismondi,  CherbuHcz. 

198.  Dangers  not  in  overpopulation  or  scarcity  of  food..  Malthus — Valuation  of  individual  3(54 
life,  a  sign  of  advanced  civilisation;  its  reverse  side  the  "labor  market"  which  cheapens  life- - 
Danger  not  in  the  wars  of  the  future,  but  in  the  moral  decadence — Loss  of  liberty  in  the  associa- 
tion of  productions  and  consume — Materialistic  sociology  fSchaeffle)  worse  than  old  Roman 
state  authority — Social  body  resembling  a  protoplasmic  mass — Highly  differentiated  orgamism 
liable  to  sudden  collapse — The  dark  shadow  of  modern  civilization — Possibility  of  averting 
disastrous  experiments.     Rational  methods   of  adjustment  and   reconstruction — Confederacy 

of  European  free  states  would  not  avert  the  dangers  to  which  humanity  stands  exposed. 

199.  Danger  located.     Man's  condition  not  bettered  through  mere  culture.     Vice  of  past  366 
ages  cast  into  new  molds — Depravity  emboldened,   despises   to  borrow  respectability  from 
hypocrisy — Growing  indifference  as  to  resisting  wickedness.     Old  age  prudent  to   avoid  such 
annoyances,  as  connected  with  combating  the  bad  (Lasaulx) — Decrease  of  ethical  decisiveness 

— lycss  vagueness  of  allowances  and  expediencies — Parallel  betw  former  and  present  forms  of 
social  life — "Phantasy  evaporating,  reason  gaining  strength"  Darwin.  Herein  the  danger:  Decline 
of  sentiment  and  piety  not  to  be  repaired  by  rationalism — Virtue  at  random  in  cosmopolitanism 
— Materialistic  phantasm  of  a  "European  Republic." 

200.  Arch-type  of  perverted  Humanity  as  to  unity   and  dominion:   Babylon  -Tendency  367 
perpetuated:  "Fasces"  of^Rome;  Byzanz- Aachen;  Rome-Moscow;  is  to  culminate  in  an  antitype 

— Figure  now  assuming  shape  corresponds  with  the  daring  attitude  of  the  Babel  emblem — 
Christian  thought  in  single-handed  contest,  because  unsupported  by  nations — Mixed  nations  agitat- 
ed by  antispiritual  forces  (Ratzel)  North  America — Semitic  blood  diffused  in  Christian  nations 
works  more  than  ever  disintegration,  under  the  label  of  cosmopolitanism — Deference  to 
Droyson's  conclusion — Forerunners  of  the  final  appearance  of  the  personified  bad  arising — No 
state  will  risk  to  commit  and  endanger  itself  by  contracting  the  odium  of  defending  the  Christian  thought 
which  encounters  a  trio  of  old  enmity. 

201.  Combinationsof  infidelity  and  superstition  at  the  times  of  Chriot   to   be  repeated — 369 
Stoic  superciliousness  and  superstitious  frenzy — Spinocism;  Pantheism  a  "crazy-quilt  of  Indian 
patches  stitched   together  by  German   needles":     A.  Guenther — Schopenhauer's   pessimism- 
Spiritism  akin   to  Shamanism  (Wundt.)    Buddhistic   "theosophy"— Never   did  infidelity  displace 
superstition    Kant.  Swedenborg  — Sinister  phenomona— Man  to  appear  in  the   completion   of 

all  his  known  and  hidden  potentialities-Catastrophe  not  to  set  in  without  preceeding  couöter- 
action  against  the  perils  of  the  latter  days. 

202.  Separation  of  the  contesting  powers.aggressive  persecution  versus  enduring  resigna-870 
tion-— Contents  of  the  "Sicut  deus"—  Final  result   of  godless  culture   and  godly   aspiration — 
Outline  of  the  figure  consolidates,  which  represents  all  that  is  base  and  bad.      The  bearers  of 
the"image" — Abhorrence  of  godlessness  equal  to  the  degree  of  love  to  Christ — Beastly  features 

of  the  Bad  all  in  one  lump.  Man  as  a  unit  laid  bare  to  the  root  of  his  being,  before  the  deep 
roots  of  the  Bad  back  of  him  come  to  view — The  evil-one  debarred  from  becoming  incarnate, 
his  final  representative,  the  "man  of  sin" — The  ideals  preserved  by  the  classic  world.  The 
ideal  of  humanity  could  not  then  be  attacked.  Undermining  the  basis  of  human  ideals  causes 
the  degradation  to  brutality — The  umbel  fully  developed— Metamorphoses  of  the  forms  assumed 
by  the  antogonism  to  Christianity — "Beast  risen  out  of  the  sea."  Miracles  mocking  the  mockers, 

203.  Postulate  of  History:  Man  in  both  repects,  love  to  God  and  hatred  against  Him  and  873 
His,  to  be  fully  revealed  in  person— Expectation  of  the  Church — Instinctively  the  world,  i.  e, 
organised  enmity  against  God,  is  waiting  for  its  leader — Seductive  influence  of,  and  intimida- 
tion through,  the  representative  of  the  irredeemable  part  of  the  human  race— Adherents  of 
true  humanity  put  to  the  last  test  in  the  crucible  of  suffering  —Christianity  to  partake  of  all  the 
phases  of  the  life  of  Christ— Complete  vindication  of  the  truth  in  the  "sicut  deus"  as  separated 
Jrom  the  lie— Reappearance  of  the  God-man  upon  the  earthly  scenes  of  action.  Separating 
effects  thereof:  the  "crisis"  or  last  judgment  Execution  of  verdicts  rendered  long  ago— Dark 
spirits  expelled  from  the  world  of  men— But  for  this  final  manifestation,  hist,  would  be  natural 
history  pure  and  simple. 

XII  Ch.    Consummation  of  the  World's  History.  „^^ 

204.  Part  of  hist,  is  natural  history.  The  earth  continually  dying,  i.  e.  transmutating,  ***^ 
partakes  of  the  "fate  of  man" — Physicists  only  differ  as  to  afiery  (Tyndall)  or  frigid  (Dubois- 
Raymond)mode.  They  make  man's  destiny  dependent  upon  the  fate  of  his  temporary  domicile, 
are  of  the  opinion  that  nature,  not  mind,  determines  the  closing  act  of  history— Absurdness  of  a 
will  in  the  abstract— The  crisis  not  merely  tellurian  but  cosmical— Decomposition  of  the 
broad  cosmical  basis  alone  warrants  man's  unique  position  above  all  creatures — What,  "ought 
not  to  be"  remains  irredeemable. 


XXVIII  III  A.     dii.e;mmas. 

377  205.  Real  progress  to  complete  unfolding  must  include  abolition  of  the  opposites  into 
which  man's  dual  nature  is  distracted — Polarities  to  cease — Reconciliation  of  faith  and  science 
— The  sudden  transmutation  into  that  form  of  reality  which  is  nature  in  essence — True  aims  of 
art  and  science,  as  means  to  realise  the  ideal— Character  of  miracles  :  Substance  fashioned  into 
instrumentalities  of  thought — Reference  to  the  cosmical  significance  of  the  resurrection — 
Visible  things  changed  from  being  concealing  garbs  of  reality  into  luminous  environment  of 
the  new  humanity — Glory  of  "man  made  perfect" — Former  incognito  of  the  lyord — Crisis  at 
the  great  day,  illustr.  by  the  discharge  of  an  electric  flux  into  a  chemical  compound— Comple- 
tion of  the  reductive  process  begun  when  the  "Word"  was  discharged  into  the  composition  in 
the  Roman  crucible. 

379  206.  Communication  of  strength  to  Christ's  adherents;  illustr:  Action  of  the  magnet 
upon  elements  of  affinity — A  higher  imponderable  force  suspending  the  law  of  gravity — 
Christians  are  agents  of  the  attractive  power — Humanity  proper  is  to  the  universe  what  the 
spirit-soul  is  to  the  body  —Transition  from  nature  to  spiritualisation  goes  through  man's 
personal  life — All  arrested  life  bound  up  in  matter  is  virtually  liberated  by  Christ,  under 
conditions  of  the  ethical  process  prescribed  by  the  order  of  things  and  the  order  of  salvation — 
"Corporeality  the  end  of  all  of  God's  ways."  History  complete  and  at  rest  only  after  this 
consummation — Human  nature  to  reach  perfection  in  a  multiplicity  exhibiting  the  gifts  as 
fully  developed;  and  the  tasks  accomplished  in  all  directions  and  every  relation— All  potentia- 
lities free  and  at  man's  disposal — The  fruit,  the  reproduction  of  the  seed— The  universe  exists 
for  the  maturition  of  its  secret :  the  new  humanity.  Origen — Amidst  the  scenes  of  his  deeds, 
witnessing  his  failures  and  successes,  man  is  judged  according  to  the  manner  in  which  he 
adjusted  himself  to  the  center  and  the  periphery. 

BOOK  THIRD:  DILEMMA  OR  HIiJTORICS. 

3g5  Syllabus.  References  to  items  postponed.  General  topics:  i.  Enigmata  of  hist,  as  to  its 
finality.     2.  Progress  after  a  plan.     Investigation  of  degrees  of  development. 

FIRST  DIVISION,  (III  A.)  Enigmata  of  History. 

History  no  further  elucidated  then  we  have  knowledge  of  ourselves.     Government  of  the 
world. 

I  Ch.  Natnre^bound  Peoples.    Mummified  Nations. 

386  207.  "Children  of  nature"  and  cultural  relapses — "Products  of  degeneracy" — Causes  of 
arrested  development — Instead  of  missing  factors,  polarisation  and  "pressure,"  much  is  found 
which  "ought  not  to  be" — Civilisation  means  death  to  barbarism — Conditions  bordering  on 
embryonic  life — Children  of  civilised  nations  pass  through  all  the  stages  of  cultural  develop- 
ment betw.  childhood  and  adult  age. 

387  208.  Wolf  as  to  the  idea  of  "arrested"  life— Account  given  of  arrested  logic — Isolation. — 
Wolf's  exception  does  not  deny  downward  progress — "Products  of  degeneracy" — Argyll,Martius 
D'Arbigny — Esquimaux  Acca,  etc., all  show  traces  of  primeval  culture — Mummifying  effects  of 
conquering  upon  vanquished  peoples :Mongolians  upon  Mohammedans, Islam  upon  Christians. 

388  209.  Purpose  of  prolonging  existence  of  withering  nations — Conscious  life  inconceivable 
as  the  product  of  inanimate  being.  (Lotze) — All  men  participate  of  inner  life,  reflect  the  light 
of  life  fixed  as  conscience — Value  of  existence  not  to  be  estimated  by  degrees  of  pleasure  or 
grades  of  refinement.  Waitz — Potentialities  latent  in  the  soul  designed  to  be  universally 
recognized  (Leo)  —Insignificant  threads  in  a  piece  of  tapestry  indispensable,  if  the  effect  of  the 
whole  is  to  be  procured. 

II  Ch.    Paroxysms  of  National  Life. 

390  210.  Places  where  hist,  seems  on  a  rush,  others  where  it  seems  to  be  at  rest — Tranquil 
times  compared  to  recuperation  during  sleep — Ivabor  deserves  more  attention  than  philosophy 
has  given  it — Prosperity  not  to  be  measured  by  means  to  gratify  appetites— Parasites  upon 
social  body — Laws   of  reciprocal  interaction  to  be  fixed  and  taught — "Catastrophism"   in 

^  Geology — Historic  law  of  pressure — National  differentiation  demands  continual  adjustment — 
Custom-boimd  people,  each  bears  physiognomy  of  its  social  body,  of  the  clan,  which  is  but  a 
vehicle  of  the  life  of  its  genus. 

392  211.  Genesis  of  distinct  national  character — Natxiral  law  governs  history  to  the  extent 
in  which  man  is  part  of  nature — Volcanoes  and  social  eruptions — Stages  in  the  history  of 
revolutions — Commotions  resembling  "law-suits"  are  historical  necessities.  Paroxysmal 
fits  explode  the  euphonisms  calculated  to  extol  man  in  his  "unregenerated"  state.  Kant  — Se- 
duction to  false  world-theories  always  ends  in  destruction  of  dignity  and  freedom. 

393  212.  Insane  destruction  of  human  life — Mysterious  phenomena  receiving  some  new 
light — Human  nature  open  to  infernal  infusion — Hypnotism,  mimicry  in  Java.  Bastian. — Pro- 
pensity for  insanity  lies  close  beneath  the  tender  surface  of  the  intellect  in  every  man:  Illustr. 
by  double  set  of  lenses  in  the  meniscus;  the  least  displacement  in  dual  consciousness  sets  in 
rapport  with  either  part  of  the  spirited  world,  disturbs  at  least  the  focus  in  viewing  life. 

HI  Ch.    Undulations  in  Ethnical  Life. 

394  213  Oscillations,  like  Rhythmical  occurrences,  must  be  reducible  to  peculiarities  of  the 
human  soul — Emotions  and  passions  alternatively  determine  the  views  men  take  of  life — New 
views  to  undergo  the  ordeal  of  conflicts — One  great  descent,  one  great  ascent:  Sinking  began 
with  the  break  of  human  unity;  ascent  begins  when  this  unity  is  manifested  anew — Rotation 
upon  the  center  (the  cross)   conspicuous  enough — Simultaneous  commotions:  Lasauix — Nations 


Ill   B,       DII.EMMAS.  XXIX 

pendulating  betw.  poles  of  energy  and  lassitude—Selfishness  punished  by  interspersion  of 
aliens  —Semitic  element,  the  dissolvent  upon  decaying  masses,  to  teach  nations  appreciation, 
of  that,  whereof  they  have  become  indifferent,  and  to  spurn  mam  monism,  sham  and  effrontery. 

214.  Undulations  in  the  conception  of  humanity  betw.  cosmopolitan  "generalness"  and"®" 
national  self-complacency,  are  in  keeping  with  two  fluctuating  modes  of  thinking  which  ever 
attempt  to  embody  themselves  in  social  transformations:  Universalistic  and  subjectivistic 
forms  of  world-consciousness — Alternations  in  the  concept  of  authoritative  rule— Will  in  the 
abstract  sense  of  generalness — People  exist  for  the  sake  of  the  state:  Individual  rights  subordi- 
nate to  the  will  of  the  organisation:  advocated  by  Quizot,  Hegel — Subjectivism  reacts:  State 
the  product  of  individual  wills,  a  contract  on  terms,  separable  at  pleasure  of  parties:  There  the 
ancient,  here  the  modern  state— Alternations  of  public  opinion— Seasons  of  fashions— Oscilla- 
tions of  tethetics— Both,  universalistic  or  communistic  and  subjectivistic  forms  of  world-con- 
sciousness to  poise  the  erroneous  views  in  their  attempts  to  rule  true  humanism  out  of  order. 

IV  Ch,     Hero-Worship.     Genius  and  Talent.    The  Press.  „ 

215.  Who  are  the  "Great?" — Regulators  of  the  oscillating  world-theories:  Carlyle— Con- 
cept of  the  world's  government  rendered  profane  if  attributed  to  pop  ular  favorites:  (Niebuhr) — 
Genesis  of  leading,  minds— What  great  men  owe  to  the  totality  of  their  respective  nations. 
Ivauguage — Influence  of  mental  and  moral  atmosphere — Receptivity  to  be  cultivated  first  and 
foremost — Duties  of  society  to  individuals,  punishment    of  their  neglect — In  what  the  wealth 

of  a  nation  consists.  .^ 

216.  "Spirit  of  the  time,"  Nations  have  no  souls — Definition  of  "national  spirit";  great 
minds  not  developed  regardless  thereof.  Yet  personality  is  not  the  result  of  circumstances — 
Apparatus  of  environments  not  to  be  disregarded— Not  even  the  greatest  of  minds  claimed  his  glory 
as  due  to  himself.  Crystalline  structure  of  excellent  characters —  Talent,  virtuosity  of  receptiv- 
ity, skill  in  self-adjustment  to  externals— Genius  hidden  in  the  texture  of  the  inner  life.  It 
partakes  of  the  nature  of  the  conscience  (  Kaehler)— At  this  point  the  -"finger"  procures  the 
changes  in  the  directions  which  human  affairs  are  to  take — Genius  a  failure  if  not  receptive — 
No  quantity  of  talent  can  supplant  ingenuity — Vividness  of  imagination,  the  creative  power  of 
mind.  "Intuitive  grasp" — Arrangement  of  given  matters  into  new  combinations  by  appropri- 
ate methods.  .^^o 

217.  Masses  now  claim  their  part  of  the  glory,  because  they  participate  in  making  or  un- 
doing heroes — Tyranny  of  the  press.  Facility  to  defame  and  ostracise  the  best  at  the  pleasure 
of  the  vilest — Press  a  tool  of  schemers — Shortlived  renown  obtained  by  demagoguery — True 
heroes  not  recognized  until  their  weaknesses  are  forgotten — Hero-cult  but  a  sign  of  the  search 
after  the  mind  which  manages  human  affairs  through  human  instrumentalities — The  radiance 
of  great  minds  grows  dim,  because  they  were  but  surrogates  for  the  light  from  heaven. 

V  Ch.    Governmeut  of  the  Universe.  ,„ . 

218.  Divine  Guidance  not  to  be  inspected  whilst  at  work  in  minor  details  of  history. 
(Lacordaire) — Purpose  and  plan  underlying,  partly  transcending  hist., as  disclosed  by  the  Media- 
tor. Pure  induction  could  have  discovered  it -Axiom  that  man  possesses  "Vernunft,''  intel- 
lect—  Materialistic  definition  of  this  faculty:  Schaeffle.     Fichte's  concept  of  divine  rulings  criti- 

^'®^^'  .  .  40ß 

219.  Problem:  How  to  conceive  of  the  inframundane  relation  of  the  Absolute  Mind    to 

history — Development  of  history  not  under  laws  of  natural  necessity,  but  under  laws  of  its  own, 
under  ethical  necessity — Limit  of  self-development — "Free  will  "  under  "Divine  rule." — No  for- 
ensic determinism — "Immutability"  of  God  misleading,  not  to  be  misconstructed  as  in  dead  deism 
—Divine  interaction  testifies  to  the  incompleteness  of  things— If  scepticism  had  been  rendered 
impossible,  freedom  would  have  been  nullified — The  Supreme  Will  rather  works  in  limits 
of  self-limitation  and  incognito.  .^^ 

220.  Providential  interactions — In  migratory  movements:  To  generate   new  forces  to   ^ 
guide  to  new  ethnical  constellations,  to  benefit   subjugated  nations  by  pressure — Indestructi- 
bility of  cultural  effects:  a  historic  dogma —  Day  of  Judgment:  the  prerogative  of    the  world's 
constitutional  government,  presided  over  by  God  in  person — God's  condescention  is  not  to  be 
understood  by  reason  alone.  .^^ 

221.  Recapitulation:  Issue  of  hist,  incalcuable— Schelling — Difficulties  of  understanding  ^-"^^ 
originate  in  the  interference  of  the  bad,  mystifying  matters — Freedom  is  kept  safe  only  within 
the  invisible  organisation  framed  into  the  visible  organism  of  humanity — Interrelations  betw. 
the  two  represented  by  binding  threads  running  horizontally,interwoven  with  binding  vertical 
lines — Three  interlocked  spheroids:  natural  universe,  human  world,  Kingdom  of  Heaven  upon 
earth — Happenings  under  auspices  of  blind  fate  exist  not — Small  affairs  furnish  the   apparatus 

to  exercise  patience,  prudence  and  trust— Everything  hinges  upon  the  relation  to  the  Redeemer. 

SECOND  DIVISION:  (III  B.)   Result  of  History.  ^^^ 

Inquiry  as  to  real  progress  on  the  line  of  human  happiness — Pessimism  as  to  cultural 
achievements.  Helio-spiral  and  circular  motion  of  progress.  Civilisation  must  have  a  specific 
and  definite  goal.  Taken  under  aspects  of  economic,  rational,  aesthetical  advance  and 
ethical  improvement. 

I  Ch.     Progress  under  the  Aspect  of  acquired  Dominion  over  Nature. 

222.  No  law   of  progress  since  history  is   no  mechanism — Evolution  as  individualisation  414 
by  detachment,  valid — Differentiation  and  organisation — Nomade-life— Primitive  agriculture — 
Rational  agriculture — Emancipation  from  the  clod — Rise  in  the  value  of  labor.  ' 

223.  Third  stage  of  progress  marked  by  preponderance  of  the  money  power— Parcellation  415 


XXX  III  B.       REBUILT   OF   HISTORY. 

of  family- tenures — Abolition  of  serfdom  and  slavery,  only  indirectly  caused  by  Christianity, 
directly  by  capitalistic  interestedness— New  economical  conditions  conducive  to  the  welfare 
of  laboring  classes,  owing  much  to  increasing  density  of  population — I^iberty  to  a  large  extent 
the  fruit  of  heightened  productiveness  of  the  soil  and  of  "ploughing"  the  ocean — Contrast 
illustr. — Labor  in  German  and  Latin  nations. 

417  224.  Conquering  distances  of  space  and  time — History  of  means  of  intercourse — Age  of 
speed — Pacific  less  extensive  than  Mediterranean  was  in  St.  Paul's  time — Globe  subjected  to 
man's  mind — Long  course  of  developing  present  iron-industry — Lively  interaction  of  all  sub- 
divisions of  culture,  all  claiming  title  of  civilisation;  thereby  the  esteem  due  Christianity  on 
account  of  its  results-Do  the  results  of  economic  progress  benefit  the  cause  of  true  humanism? 

I!  Ch.    Intellectual  Advantages  gained. 

418  225.  Survey  of  the  field  of  research,  to  ascertain  the  modes  of  thinking.  Schubert — 
Thinking  called  forth  by  promptings  to  understand  nature;  mind  attracted  by  the  starj^ 
worlds  in  the  first  place — Temple-wisdom  consisted  in  arranging  knowledge  of  nature — 
Genesis  of  science  in  astrology — Ancient  science  never  emancipated  from  priestly  tutelage — 
Greek  historiography  in  vindication  of  oracles.  Curtius — Church  took  "worldly  wisdom"  under 
its  care,  tho  teaching  the  laity  to  renounce  it — Antique  ideas  allowed  to  adhere  to  theology, 
TTiarringthe  clearness  of  Christian  world-consciousness —  'Thilosophia  humana".  Bacon  — 
Freedom  of  inquiry.  Descartes — Auxiliary  branches  become  specific  sciences— Spencer's  defini- 
tion of  scientific  progress. 

419  226.  Man  nowhere  finds  the  affinity  confirmed  which  exists  betw.  necessities  in  things 
and  in  reason — To  displace  imagination  (Buckle)  is  impossible — Spencer's  ideas  cannot  be  car- 
ried out.  There  is  unity  of  purpose  in  all  scientific  quarters  to  carry  on  the  humanitarian  cause. 

III  Ch.    Progress  in  i^sthetics. 

420  227.  Each  form  of  world-consciousness  mirrored,  each  conform  to  religious  tenets — Art  of 
transcendentalism  vilifies  human  form,  maltreats  the  body  in  monasteries  and  torture- 
chambers— No  realistic  background, no  perspective  in  pictures — Art  representing  sentinient,rap- 
port  with  nature  in  landscapes.     Raphael. 

422  228.  Music  elevated  to  express  ideal  sentiments:  Slowly  like  other  arts  emancipating 
itself  from  temple-rituals  and  funeral-rites — Stringed  instruments — Triumph  of  the  most 
abstract  of  the  fine  arts — Independent  world-theories:  Art  represents  them  ^ven  in  their  con- 
flicts— Arts'  criterion  :that  it  makes  itself  universally  understood— Diversity  of  nations  approach- 
ing to  unity, 

IV  Ch.    Advance  in  Religio-Ethical  Matters. 

423  229.  Cultures  of  yore  destroyed,  because  sciences  were  fettered,  upon  which  technical 
progress  depends,mention  ofDubois  Raymond's"  disregard  of  the  moral  factor"  — Social  ethics  — 
Public  opinion — Ecclesiastical  ethics— Legalism  —Christian  ethics — History  the  realisation  of 
true  manliness— Progress  of  legalistic  morality.     Ethics  roots  in  religion. 

424  230.  Progress  in  religiousness?  Religious  side  of  civilisation  cannot  be  said  to  develop— 
'*Man  is  apt  to  be  restored  to  true  humanity  by  a  kind  of  regeneration" — A  moral  community, 
"a  people  under  rule  of  divine  law,"  which  is  secure  against  arbitrary  changes  and  above 
human  sanction.  Kant  — Man's  renewal  illustrated:  crystallisation  of  precious  stones— Utilitar- 
ian moralism  void  of  religion,  compared  to  dazzling,  cold  jewels.  Culture  owes  every  thing 
to  benign  influences  of  Christianity — New  life  from  above,  outlined  in  the  changes  it  procures. 
— In  experimental  religion  man  finds  himself,  assured  of  realising  his  destiny. 

426  231.     Reasons  for  the  fact  that   "religious   progress"   is  on  the  decline — Appearance  of 

representing  continual  defeat  -  Spatial  extent  of  the  dominion  of  true  God-consciousness 
always  diminishes  at  the  rate  in  which  politico -moral  culture  under  the  name  of  civilization 
spreads  out — Intensiveness— Ignorance  as  to  the  inner  difference  of  the  moral  and  religious  sense 
causes  the  neglect  to  harmonise  piety  and  morality,  God-and  world-consciousness,  which  are 
finally  to  merge — Theocracies  attempted  to  force  this  unification,  whilst  in  the  nature  of  things 
religious  and  political  (ethical)  institutions  are  to  be  kept  separate— The  "invisible  church"  as 
compared  to  the  corrosion  of  natrium — "Image  of  the  monarchies." 

VCh.    The  World  in  the  State  of  Perfection. 

428  232.  The  world's  entering  the  state  of  glory  is  frustrated  by  the  bad — Phenomena  of 
demoniac  natnre- Satan's  hiding  place:  that  which  ought  not  to  be,  doomed  to  destruction — 
Aim  of  hist,  as  projected  in  man,  is  to  be  realised  through  him — Sublimity  of  man  not  fully 
exhibited  until  the  entire  universe  is  recognised  as  belonging  to  him — Totality  of  creation 
bound  to  become  conformed  to  life  resurrected — In  the  transit  to  perfection  the  celestial  is 
included  which  also  administered  to  his  best  interests.  Else  the  termination  of  the  fight  for 
the  possession  of  the  world  would  not  be  assured. 

429  233.  Visible  world  but  the  symbol  of  the  world  of  true  reality  and  permanency — What  ought 
not  to  be  must  have  issued  from  immaterial  principles.  Renouvier — Fechner— Lotze — Mind 
must  be  able  to  affect  physical  matter  in  the  same  mode  as  imponderable  matter  affects  the 
ponderable.  Illustr.  sand  transmuted  to  glass— Nature  ceases  to  be  merely  the  semblance,  but 
continues  to  be  the  most  adequate  expression  of  ttie  sublime  without  further  impossibilty  of 
degradation — Reappearance  of  the  Mediator—  Body's  temporary  form  inadequate  to  mind's 
nature  —Consequences  of  the  transmutation  of  the  cosmos — True  theocracy —Closing  scene  of 
history— Completion  of  the  Church — Scaffolds  vanish — Dedication  solemnised —Anthems  of 
praise — Full  appearance  of  the  Beautiful — Inheritance  of  God's  children,  includes  sum  and 
substance  of  all  cultural  achievements. 


CONCLUSION.  XXXI 

234.  Goal  of  history,  realised  under  method  of  freedom,  under  no  compulsion,  no  other  43I 
necessity  but  that  of  the  Supreme  Good — Man  to  bring  the  secondary  good  into  relation 
with  God— The  Son  of  God  ever  was  to  history  what  the  theme  is  in  a  fugue — Marvelous  cli- 
max of  the  concert  — Reunion  of  the  children  of  God's  household  bringing  their  fruits — Royal 
race  in  its  glory — The  Kingdom  which  ever  had  floated  before  the  vision  of  humanity,  revolving 
upon  the  mediator — Historic  world,  enveloping  the  kingdom,  and  the  outer  hull  of  the  cosmical 
organism. 

Conclusion. 

235.  Sacred  tradition  was  put  to  the  test  of  empiric  induction.  Savior  verified  the  expecta-  ^**** 
tions  of  his  people — Humanity  reclines  on  Him  like  cross-vault  upon  keystone — This  work 
claims  scientific  validity — Understanding  of  history  illustr.  by  congruity  of  an  architect's  plan 
with  the  finished  edifice — Logic  of  History — Metaphysics  of  history — Gradual  impartation  of 
Divine  life — Developing  realisation  of  glory — Tliought  (not  idea  of  Hegel)  as  the  notion  neces- 
sary in  itself  and  for  its  own  sake,  is  the  truth — Upon  these  premises  this  is  not  only  "a"  Philo- 
sophy of  History. 


PROSPECTIVE    REMARKS. 


Philosophising  upon  Universal  History  began  with  arranging  historical  matter  in 
such  a  manner  as  might  be  rendered  suitable  in  affirming  or  assailing  either  religious 
tenets  or  world-theories.  Because  of  such  inferential  use  or  abuse  of  evidences  the 
necessity  of  much  preliminary  work  soon  became  apparent.  The  data  of  history  were 
to  be  sifted  critically,  sources  to  be  compared  and  verified.  The  undercurrent  ideas 
needed  cautious  discernment  in  order  to  understand  the  events  arising  from  them,  and 
to  test  the  correctness  of  judgments  formed  respecting  them  at  the  time  of  their  occur- 
rence as  well  as  by  the  posterity  of  the  actors.  Thus  the  records  of  human  activity 
during  fifty  centuries,  at  the  least,  had  to  be  examined  by  our  science,  now  scarcely  one 
century  old.  Herder's  * 'Ideas  about  the  education  of  the  children  of  men,"  up  to  the 
time  when  he  published  his  humanitarian  aspect  of  civilisation,  were  taken  up  for  prac- 
tical purposes  by  Von  Stein,  Bismarck's  forerunner  in  the  work  of  reconstructing  the 
German  empire.  He  organised  the  first  society  for  historic  investigation,  and  he  en- 
couraged Perthes  to  venture  into  the  gigantic  enterprise  of  publishing  the  "Heeren  and 
Uckert  History  in  Monographs".  Thus  the  zeal  for  the  study  of  history  was  stirred 
up  in  the  Napoleonic  period. 

Shortly  after  a  college  of  experts,  such  as  Chateaubriand,  Joh.  von  Miller,  Tenne- 
mann,  Neander,  Niebuhr  and  others  created  the  study  of  "Sources."  With  the  "Ro- 
setta- stone"  found  and  deciphered,  the  world  of  scholars  became  as  interested  in  discuss- 
ions of  Egyptian  archives  as  in  German  chronicles  and  French  memoirs,  or  in  the 
results  of  excavating  expeditions.  But  owing  to  many  modified  interpretations  of 
history  as  those  of  Schlegel,  Hegel,  Gjiizot  etc.,  each  trying  to  support  his  preconceived 
view  of  church  and  state,  the  public  lost  faith  in  historical  evidences.  A  sceptical 
attitude  as  to  the  reliability  of  the  new  science  was  the  result.  Consequently  objective 
exposition  was  demanded.  Even  the  arduous  labors  of  Schlosser,  Weber,  Leo, 
etc.,  to  meet  the  demand,  did  not  afford  general  satisfaction.  One  would  find  them 
either  tinctured  with  deism  or  too  orthodox;  the  tinge  was  too  monarchical  or  too  dem- 
ocratic, whilst  others  again  would  have  the  historical  facts  and  figures  strung  up  in 
such  a  neutral,  nugatory  manner,  that  nobody  would  care  to  study  them. 

The  "Philosophy  of  History,"  published  by  Dr.  Rocholl  in  1892,  found  it  necessary 
to  start,  twenty- five  years  ago,  with  clearing  the  ground  in  which  to  plant  this  "young 
upstart"  of  systematic  knowledge.  Still  more  difficult  it  is  to  cultivate  in  this  country. 
In  our  system  of  education  a  place  must  first  be  secured  for  this  philosophic  discipline. 
Our  college -curricula  are  so  overburdened  as  to  leave  little  time  for  this  all-comprehen- 
sive study.  Annexes  to  universities  and  historical  seminaries  and  post-graduate  courses 
prove  the  fact  that  historic  instruction  had  been  crowded  out,  but  at  the  same  time  shows 
the  growing  necessity  of  its  pursuit.  In  order  to  make  the  revelations  of  history  appli- 
cable to  Ethics,  Sociology  and  Political  Economy  its  contents  must  be  digested  by  phil- 
osophical treatment.  This  is  an  indispensable  requisite  for  the  journalist  and  statesman, 
yea  for  every  voting  member  of  a  nation  of  "sovereigns"  with  forms  of  self-government; 
•especially  at  the  present  time,  when  public  welfare  and  the  perpetuance  of  our  national 
institutions  are  expected  from  law  and  legislation,  rather  than  from  the  Gospel  and  its 
application;    and  when  Ethics  seem  to  supersede  Dogmatics. 

Where,  then,  is  the  chair  of  history  to  be  placed?  Is  this  science  with  its  out- 
growth, the  Philosophy  of  History,  to  be  classified  with  the  Natural  Sciences,  where  a 
certain  Sociology  offered  a  back-seat  to  Clio  ?  Or  with  Metaphysics,  by  means  of  which 
3 


XXXIV 

Hegel  made  his  ''Idea'*  to  develop  into  phantasmagorial  realisation  ?  The  first  chapters 
are  to  prove,that  neither  physical  nor  metaphysical  dispositions  can  do  justice  to  his- 
tory, since  as  the  regulator  of  world-theories,  it  must  stand  above  suspicion  of  partial- 
ity. History,  we  claim,  is  not  a  cloud  of  effervescences  emanating  from  above,  nor 
evolving  from  below.  History  like  man  himself,  the  traces  of  whose  character  it  bears, 
belongs  to  both  spheres.  But  insomuch  as  science  as  well  as  society,  whose  theories 
history  embraces,  becomes  the  more  differentiated,  the  nearer  the  organism  of  civilisa- 
tion approaches  the  period  of  bloom  and  fruit  bearing;  and  inasmuch  as  all  vital  rela- 
tions become  more  sensitive,  the  more  the  functions  are  strained  under  increasing  in- 
tricacy, we  find  that  relations  are  to  be  adjusted,  and  labor  must  be  divided.  The 
fields  of  science  are  to  be  parcelled  out,  and  special  cultivation  of  each  department  is 
to  be  entrusted  to  qualified  workers  who  know  enough  of  the  kindred  sciences  as  to 
be  entitled  to  co-operation.  Bach  has  to  take  cognisance  of  the  other's  labor  and  pro- 
gress. For  it  is  obvious,  that  science  forms  a  co-partnership,  and  no  particular  branch 
ought  to  act  as  tho  it  held  the  monopoly  of  explaining  the  universe.  Each  is  to  serve 
with  joy  and  without  envy  as  an  auxiliary  to  all  the  rest.  Thus  by  mutual  furtherance 
the  sciences  enrich  not  only  themselves  and  their  contemporaries,  but  also  future 
generations.  True  civilisation  is  an  inheritance  to  be  improved  and  to  be  left  again  to 
such  heirs  as  are  trained  to  appreciate  and  to  augment,  instead  of  squandering,  the 
wealth  acquired  by  the  sweat  of  the  brow,  and  preserved  by  the  shedding  of  much 
ancestral  blood. 

Hence  we  trust  that  "The  Philosophy  of  History"  with  its  claim  to  admittance 
will  not  be  unwelcome  to  the  American  circle  of  systematic  thinkers.  The  application 
for  an  introduction  ought  of  course  to  be  accompanied  by  credentials,  demonstrating 
its  possibility  and  utility;  by  a  proof  of  method,  a  statement  of  topics,  and  a  sample- 
production  of  its  laboratory.  The  synoptical  statements  of  the  Philosophy  of  History, 
drawn  from  empiric  data  shall  be  legitimately  obtained,  and  made  testproof  by  the 
judicious  application  of  critical  principles,  so  as  to  secure  conclusions  untainted  by 
harrangue,  mystifications  and  illusive  deductions.  A  consistent  interpretation  of  his- 
torical facts  will  then  bring  to  view  that  original  plan,  according  to  which  the  material 
is  reared  heavenward  into  a  sublime  structure.  The  design  of  the  ethical  cosmos  will 
then  stand  out  in  b -lid  relief,  enabling  us  to  contemplate  it  as  that  edifice,  for  which 
the  nations,  scattered  through  the  ages  and  over  the  whole  globe,  furnish  the  pillars, 
the  girders  and  decorations. 

As  to  the  method  of  construction  let  it  be  confessed,  that  the  investigation  and 
interpretation  of  undisputed  data  of  history  are  not  to  be  carried  on  **  without  prepos- 
sessed ideas".  As  often  as  such  disinterestedness  was  simulated,  it  was  unmasked  as  a 
scheme  to  beguile  the  unwary.  Any  assertion  in  the  premises  of  "neutral  objectivity" 
ought  to  be  met  with  distrust.  But  at  the  same  time  permit  the  declaration,  that  no 
such  preconception  shall  influence  our  search  after  the  meaning  of  history,  as  that 
which  vitiated,  for  instance, the  Hegelian  and  similar  world-theories.  In  them  witnesses 
were  put  to  the  torture  in  behalf  of  the  ''Idea,"  until  their  utterances  suited  the  pur- 
pose of  the  inquisitor;  or  they  were  spirited  away,  when  it  was  known,  that  instead  of 
yielding  to  the  "Idea",  they  would  confound  and  disprove  it.  Such  procedure  does 
not  deserve  the  adjective  honest,  nor  can  it  claim  the  distinction  of  being  scientific. 
Abuse  of  a  predetermined  tendency,  however,  does  not  prove  that  prepossessed  con- 
victions always  invalidate  philosophic  deductions.  It  is  possible  that  interpreters  may 
arise,  who,  endowed  with  the  gift  of  discerning  the  spirits,  like  Dr.  Rocholl,  need  not 
engage  in  dialectic  subtleties;  who  interpret  facts  conscientiously,  just  because  of  their 
pronounced  view  of  life. 

It  is  to  be  expected  of  the  historian,  that  his  studies  have  filled  him  with  a  decided 
aversion  to  everything  vicious,  because  he  continually  has  before  him  illustrations 
of  influences,  which  prove  destructive  to  the  sacred  interests  of  humanity.  He  ascends 
to  the  pinnacle  of  the  philosophical  observatory  into  the  clearest  atmosphere  possible, 
with  confidence  in  the  availability  of ,and  insight  into,  the  fundamental  plan  of  divinely- 
human  designs. 

The  historian,  furthermore,  from  dealing  with  examples  of  heroism  continually, 
may  be  expected  to  possess  the  courage  of  his  convictions.     Is  he,  then,  to  conceal   the 


XXXV 


Christian  standpoint?  to  avoid  the  use  of  religious  terms,  the  exclusion  of  which  from 
philosophical  discussions  seems  to  have  become  the  fashion?  and  to  be  ashamed  of  the 
Christ,  lest  he  would  run  the  risk  of  ridicule  ?  The  historian,  no  more  than  history,  needs 
to  be  ashamed  of  Christian  piety,  to  say  nothing  about  the  incomprehensibility  of  his- 
tory without  Christ.  Faith  does  not  obscure  reason  nor  obstruct  the  light  of  science; 
faith  has  no  more  cause  to  shun  its  glare,  (which  it  throws,  perhaps,  upon  some  weird 
caricatures  of  Christianity)  than  the  Bible  has  excuse  for  the  failings  of  its  saints. 

Equipped,  then,  with  hatred  of  the  Bad,  and  with  love  for,  and  unwavering  confi- 
dence in,  the  True  and  the  Good,  let  us  take  up  our  study.  And  not  without  reason, 
for  who  wants  to  find  reason  in  things  must  bring  reason  with  him.  We  do  not  intend 
to  appeal  to  credulity.  Solely  the  cognition  of  the  Absolute  Good  and  its  necessity,  as 
represented  and  manifested  in  the  human  conscience,  free  and  unreserved  acknowledg- 
ment is  asked  for  in  the  premises.  This  necessity  itself  insists  upon  the  freedom  of 
thought. 

The  method  shall  be  chiefly  inductive.  History  is  ''THE"  empiric  science;  it 
speaks  from  rich  experience.  Advance  in  knowledge  is  possible  only  on  solid  ground; 
facts,  critically  sifted,  prescribe  the  line  of  procedure;  their  import  must  be  carefully, 
weighed,  before  taken  into  account.  Essentials  must  be  grouped  in  proper  connection, 
where  they  appear  to  be  most  effective  in  yielding  a  sound  comprehension.  Small  be- 
ginnings are  not  to  be  despised.  So  called  accidentals  are  relegated  to  the  category  of 
every-day  occurrences,  without  being  depreciated.  Nothing  is  to  be  ignored  from  fear 
lest  the  beauty  of  the  system  would  be  marred.  Rather  deny  ourselves  the  satisfaction 
which  might  be  derived  from  a  nicely  constructed  system.  Whenever  the  principles, 
underlying  a  catena  of  facts,  the  nexus  between  cause  and  effect  is  believed  to  have 
been  discovered, then  exceptional  cases  shall  not  be  ignored.  A  conclusion  shall  not  be  an- 
nounced unless  the  objections  have  been  cautiously  dealt  with  and  recorded  for  eventu- 
al re-examination.     More  scientific  circumspection  can  hardly  be  required. 

Mere  analysis  and  rearrangement  of  data,  according  to  parallel  periods  or  their 
semblance,  could  be  no  more  satisfactory  to  us  than  it  was  to  Bacon.  Like  him  we  dare 
not  epitomise  generalisations  to  form  practicable  syllogisms.  We  thereby  shall  find 
ourselves  compelled  to  ascend,  in  search  for  the  key  of  explanation,  into  the  realm  of 
metaphysics,  if  senses,*and  intuition,  and  all  indications  unmistakably  point  in  that 
direction. 

Alexander  von  Humboldt,  in  such  emergencies,  used  to  say:  '*It  does  not  agree 
with  true  progressiveness  to  despise  every  attempt  at  deeper  insight  into  the  intricacies 
of  things  by  way  of  analogy  and  upon  the  basis  of  induction,  as  tho  the  conclusions  thus 
drawn  had  no  more  validity  than  a  guess.  Nor  does  it  behoove  us  to  condemn  the  no- 
ble endowments  of  the  mind — now  reason,  aspiring  to  knowledge  under  speculative  ex- 
ertions, and  then  again  imagination,  that  vivid  energy  of  representation,  which  is  often 
indispensable  where  discovery  is  to  be  made,  or  where  shape  is  to  be  given  to  lofty 
conceptions." 

If  Humboldt's  acknowledgment,  and  similar  sentences  of  Goethe,  hold  good  for 
comprehending  the  physical  world,  how  much  more  must  it  be  the  case  respecting  the 
moral  cosmos.  We  adopt  the  advice  as  our  apology,  as  often  as  we  are  compelled  to 
fall  back  upon  intuition;  and  also  whenever  we  have  to  refute  that  presumption,  which 
boasts  of  the  ability  to  explain  riddles  of  empirical  phenomena  merely  through  the 
mediums  of  dissecting  knife  and  retort. 

The  mind  of  the  artist,  whose  fancy  enables  him,  chisel  in  hand,  to  breathe  life,  as 
it  were,  into  the  marble,  is  filled  with  enthusiasm  at  the  moment  of  conceiving  his  ideal 
delineated  before  his  mind,  as  projected  by  his  imagination.  In  giving  external  ex- 
pression to  it,  he  is  of  course,  bound  to  the  most  minute  observance  of  given  outlines; 
imaginative  contemplation  does  not  furnish  him  the  technicalities.  But  on  the  other 
hand,  neither  does  the  sculptor  work  out  his  ideal  by  mere  external  measurement.  He 
must  identify  his  own  idea  with  the  object,  and  must  study  the  inner  character  to  be 
represented  by  the  image,  /.  e.  the  marks  of  physical  life  to  be  imitated  by  the  chisel. 
The  same  subjective-objective  identification  is  required  for  an  intelligible  reproduction 
of  historic  movements  in  space  and  time.  Unless  the  historian  can  transfer  himself  to 
the  stages  of  a  nation's  physical  development,  the  real  meaning  of  ethnographical  char- 


XXXVI 

acteristics  will  remain  a  mystery.    The  solution  is  to  be  found  nowhere  but  in  sympa- 
thy, in  the  inner  act  of  recognition. 

This  would  lead  us  to  what  is  now  called  Ethnological  Psychology,  the  considera- 
tion of  which  will  be  taken  up  in  due  time.  In  the  first  book  no  other  notice  can  be 
taken  of  it,  but  what  bears  upon  the  problem  before  us  and  the  method  of  its  treat- 
ment. 

Scientists  assume  that  all  human  affairs  can  be  explained  by  materialistic  atomism; 
while  most  all  historians  maintain,  that  history  cannot  be  understood,  unless  viewed 
from  the  position  of  Theism.  Upon  one  conclusion  general  agreement  reigns,  viz: 
that  history  exhibits  a  development  of  humanity,  an  onward  march,  a  continual  ad- 
vance toward  higher  civilization. 

The  question,  however,  arises:  What  is  this  civilisation,  which  moves  on,  seeming 
interruptions  notwithstanding  ?  Does  it  consist  in  the  skillful  adjustment  of  conduct 
to  environments  by  way  of  prudent  expediency  ?  Or  in  the  concentration  of  govern- 
mental power  according  to  the  survival  of  the  fittest  ?  Or  in  the  lowering  of  personal' 
superiority  to  a  common  level  of  generalness  under  pretense  of  liberty,  equality,  and 
fraternity  ?  Is  not  the  prolongation  of  life  the  greatest  desideratum,  so  that  the  baro- 
meter of  civilization  ought  to  be  hung  up  in  the  health-office  or  in  the  statistical  bureau  ? 
Reasoning  thus,  naturalistic  Sociology  gains  popularity  and  wins  an  advantage  over  the 
Philosophy  of  History  and  its  metaphysicians,  because  they  can  not  make  civilisation 
so  simple  and  pleasant  a  task.  For  they,  and  we  among  them,  hold  that  the  aim  of 
civilisation  is  such  cultivation  of  character,  which,  because  of  the  objective  necessity  of  the 
Absolute  Good,  endeavors  to  bring  reason,  feeling,  a?id  will  under  the  control  of  a  free 
agent,  into  equilibrium  and  proper  mutual  co'Operation.  In  other  words  civilisation  is 
to  us  that  culture  of  body  and  mind,  which  is  based  upon  the  cheerful  exercise  of  the 
endowments  and  obligations,  that  is,  upon  the  proper  conduct  of  a  person  practicing 
the  duties,  which  grow  out  of  his  relation  to  God,  fellow-men  and  nature. 

We  claim  that  nothing  less  will  answer  the  demands  upon  our  science  of  civilisa- 
tion but  the  inductive  analysis  combined  with  experimenting  upon  the  contents  of  our 
dogma.  By  this  method  our  science  will  be  made  as  nearly  as  possible  to  correspond 
with  the  laboratory  work  of  the  scientist, from  which  praise  and  prayer  to  the  A.uthor  of 
the  universe  and  Ruler  of  kings  need  not  necessarily  be  excluded. 

All  learned  men  now  agree  upon  the  division  of  the  labors  of  investigation.  They 
also  agree  that  no  branch  can  succeed,  if  it  feigns  indifference  to  the  philosophy  of 
the  moral  process.  Even  Spencer  saw  the  necessity  of  vindicating  the  evolutionary 
world- theory  by  a  sort  of  rehashed  Hedonism.  There  must  be  a  moral  philosophy 
concerning  man's  inner  constitution  and  life's  purpose.  In  the  realm  of  morals  any 
world-theory  is  to  be  tested;  from  this  source  doctrines  react  upon  history. 

Materialistic  moral  brought  forth  the  branch-study  of  ethnographic  psychology,  in 
order  to  show  the  germs  of  culture  as  sprouting  in  natural  soil. 

Nationality,  however,  is  merely  personality  extended.  The  true  understanding  of 
neither  can  be  derived  from  onesided  investigation.  Psychology  must  be  inquired  in- 
to to  explain,  for  instance,  the  problem  of  languages,  where  it  must  fail  again  and  again, 
unless  it  adopts  a  hypothetical  premise  to  assist  in  its  induction.  This  illustrates  once 
for  all,  how  natural  science  is  directed  for  advice  to  a  higher  council,    to   metaphysics. 

At  once  we  stand  upon  the  threshold  of  another  world.  It  is  impossible  to  evade 
questions  like  these:  Can  not  the  empirical  field  of  history  be  explored  without  taking 
recourse  to  Heaven  ?  Is  it  probable,  that  solutions  may  be  obtained  by  referring  to 
another  world,  since  nothing  on  earth  can  explain  certain  divergencies  and  disturbances 
of  cosmical,  mental,  and  sensuous  life  ? 

This  will  suggest  to  us  whither  our  inductive  method  may,  yea  must  lead  to. 
Whenever  we  are  obliged  to  set  foot  upon  the  domain  of  metaphysics,  or  to  make  a  bal- 
loon-ascension, as  it  were,  into  the  heights  of  speculation,  we  shall— in  keeping  with  the 
postulates,  and  in  order  to  keep  up  communication  with  the  solid  ground,  and  in 
order  to  keep  open  the  line  of  retreat — try  the  relevancy  of  a  hypothetical  fact.  We 
shall  then  be  in  the  same  situation  as  that  for  which  the  Paris  astronomer  is  renowned. 
Le  Verrier's  calculation  is  said  to  have  been  disproved  by  Peirce's  equally  daring  con- 
fidence in  mathematical  analysis  on  the  occasion  of  the  discovery  of  the  planet  Neptune. 


XXXVII 

But  Le  Verrier's  success  of  intuitive  reasoning  none  the  less  proves  as  much  as  Peirce's 
corrective  computations,  the  value  of  the  hypothetical  and  intuitive  calculation;  both 
prove  the  legitimacy  of  applying  a  hypothetical  fact.  Methods  of  conjecturing  like 
these,  have  more  than  once  been  sanctioned  by  success.  We  may  be  allowed  to  refer 
to  the  similar  venture  upon  a  hypothesis  in  the  mind  of  Columbus.  Analysis  always 
either  requires  or  prophesies  a  synthesis  from  which,  as  from  a  coherent  whole,  a  special 
*  case  implied  finally  receives  its  confirmation.  The  method  of  taking  a  hypothesis  in- 
to service  is  obviously  closely  related  to  that  of  the  mathematical  sciences,  and  yields 
similar  evidences:  resting  on  physical  grounds,  it  reaches  up,  at  the  same  time,  into  the 
metaphysical  spheres.  Mathematics  is  to  space,  what  history  and  ethics  are  to  time, 
and  what  all  three  in  the  abstract  are  to  real  existence. 

The  right  to  propose  a  hypothesis  is  vindicated,  because  it  forms  the  justifiable,  if 
not  the  only  legitimate  connection  between  inductive  and  deductive  syllogising.  No- 
thiag  can  hinder  the  mind  from  calling  upon  hypotheses  for  assistance,  in  order  to  dis- 
cover an  approximately  correct  view  of  human  life,  of  its  original  design,  and  its  final 
consummation.  The  result  must  justify  the  method,  when  all  parts  are  comprehended 
in  one  synthesis  that  binds  together  the  whole.  From  this  unified  conception,  if  cor- 
rect, the  parts  receive  their  light  and  reason,  according  to  our  axiom,  that  the  single 
can  not  be  explained  unless  viewed  from  the  aspect  of  the  whole,  and  that  the  higher 
can  not  be  understood  by  the  lower. 

At  every  stage  of  our  procedure  striking  parallels  may  suggest  instructive  lessons 
and  elicit  comparisons  between  conditions  of  the  human  family  in  former  ages  and  the 
present  phases  of  history  as  to  the  woe  or  weal  of  humanity.  Our  philosophy  thus 
applied  can  not  but  act  the  part  of  a  philanthropist  and  patriot,  warning  against  evil 
tendencies,  so  as  to  avoid,  if  possible,  such  recurrencies  as  would,  by  means  of  modern 
contrivances,  prove  more  disastrous  than  any  catastrophe  on  record. 


BOOK  FIRST. 


J^istor/cSj 


Prolegonlena  of  the  Philosophy  of  History« 


A.— COEFFICIENT  FACTORS  IN  HISTORY. 
B.— OPERATIVE  MODE  OF  HISTORY. 


A.    FIRST  DIVISION. 
CO-EFFICIENT  FACTORS  IN  HISTORY. 


SYLLABUS. 

A  person  in  the  development  of  his  life  passes  through  three  stages.    Life  given 

begins  and  continues  for  a  certain  length  of  time  under  physical  conditions— man  is 

passive. 

Then  intellectual  discrimination  dawns;  he  asserts  himself,  and  learns  to  adjust  stages  of  man's  develop- 
ment: passive,  recep- 

his  being  to  the  objective  world,  in  which  he  finds  himself —he  becomes  receptive.        «ve,  creative. 

The  age  of  maturity  places  before  him  the  task  of  mastering  and  appropriating 
the  external  world,  along  with  the  practice  of  selfpossession  and  self  control,  so  as 
to  fit  him  for  cooperation  in  elevating  the  natural  into  the  spiritual— man  is  active. 

These  three  topics  first  ventilated  by  Lessing  and  Herder,  were  utilised  in  Hegel's 
elaborate  interpretation  of  history. 

To  his  speculation  on  the  development  of  mind  individually,  and  of  mind  generally 
throughout  history,  he  had  been  led  by  Fichte,  who  deduced  all  being  from  the  "  ego  "  by  way 
of  "thesis,  antithesis,  and  synthesis."    Hegel  started  his  deduction  from  the  "absolute  idea,"  lessino    Herdeb 
after  the  formula   "subject,  object  (projection),  and  subject-object"— position,  opposition,  Fitche,'heqel:  applying 
and  composure — or  "being  in  itself  as  unconscious;  being  in  the  act  of  becoming  or  reflected 
in  the  form  of  something  else;  and  being  in  and  for  itself;  selfconscious." 

Scharling  divested  such  triads  of  their  vagaries,  where  the  sovereign  mind  is  imagined 
as  undergoing  a  physical  metamorphosis,  while  at  the  same  time  nature  is  maintained  as  the 
opposite  of  mind  pure  and  simple.  By  such  extravagant  inconsistencies  thought  is  made  to 
reveal  itself  in  history,  while  at  the  same  time  the  continual  apostacy  of  history  from  its  very 
idea  renders  both  nature  and  history  standing  contradictions  to  the  "Idea,"  instead  of  its 
exposition. 

Scharling  in  "  Humanism  and  Christianity  "  reduces  the  true  elements  of  the  traditional  „  «        ^ 

..  .,,..  ,.,.  .         T^r  ^  ScHARLijfo:  Man  as  dc- 

tripartition  to  a  very  practical  division  of  the  ethico- historical  process,  viz, :  Man  as  deter-  termined  by  nature,  by 
mined  by  nature,  by  his  own,  and  by  the  Divine  mind.      Dorner,  in  throwing  the  light  of  jjj'fnd'^'''  ^^  *^®  ^^"^^^ 
Ethics  upon  determination,  selfdetermination  and  predetermination,  very  convincingly  de- 
scribes the  moral  progress  of  man  (1.)  from  the  state  under  the  law  to  (2.)  the  state  under  the 
gospel  and  (3.)  to  the  kingdom  of  God's  realised  purposes. 

So  much  has  been  made  evident  by  the  labors  of  all  preceding  masters,  that  the  historic-  SarT miderthe'^Law 
empiric  world  is  to  be  recognised  as  natural,  moral,  and  divinely  human— not  in  the  order  of  under  the  Gospel, 
time,  as  tho  it  had  begun  with  Hindooism  and  wound  up  with  Hegel's  great  decades,  but  in  ^^^  made  per  ect. 
coincident  stages  of  progress. 

This  brief  sketch  may  have  suggested,  what  physical  and  metaphysical  matters 
and  methods  are  to  be  considered  in  this  first  division.  For,  since  natural  and 
spiritual  life  condition  each  other,  so  the  sciences  of  either  province  must  over-lap 
where  both  elements  approach  their  union  in  man. 

Proceeding  from  physics  through  logic  to  ethics,  we  shall  find  the  truth  contain- 
ed in  the  Greek  phrase,  that  "man  is  the  measure  of  all  things,"  representing,  as  he  Man  -^  tte  measure  of  au 
does,  in  his  constitution  the  whole  universe  as  a  microcosm.  We  shall  behold  man 
as  the  theme  of  history,  and  as  its  key.  We  shall  discern,  that  man  in  every  respect 
represents  more  than  the  mere  material  for  the  construction  of  a  scientific  evolution- 
theory. 

CH.  1.    RELATIONS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY  OP  HISTORY  TO  NATURAL  SCIENCES. 

§1.  Man  is  indeed  the  connecting  link  between  two  worlds.  This  happy  figure  of 
speech,  first  suggested  by  Herder,  who  had  also  initiated  that  tripartition  of  human  Jwo  worlds  represented 
life  mentioned  above,  includes  at  once  the  necessary  background  and  apparatus  for 
the  theatre  of  history  and  the  actors  upon  its  stage.  It  intimates  at  the  same  time 
that  two  worlds  are  contending  for  the  possession  of  his  heart,  since  he  is  designed 
for  both,  the  possession  of  the  earth,  and  the  inheritance  of  Heaven.  We  shall  not  be 
in  danger  of  trespassing  our  limits  by  stating,  that  man  is  of  greater  significance 
even  than  representing  the  apex  of  that  structure,  whose  foundation  consists  in 
nothing  less  than  the  cosmical  universe.  For  man's  dual  being  is  rooted  also  in  the 
world  of  spirits.    Hence  Herder  took  man  as  the  child  of  two  creations. 


The  offsprings  of 
Identity-Fb  ilosoph  y . 


Herakleitos:  Lucretius. 


Spikoza:  "  Substance. 


Scbelling. 


Hegel's  "  Idea.' 


His  pi-ed  llection  for 
Hindooism. 


"Light  of  Asia"  Sec.  58 
Abnold 


Hegelian  Phil,  of  Hist, 
and  George  Eliot's 
"  Christ-Idea." 

Colorless  spectre : 
"  generalness." 

Heavenly  things  brought 
to  the  level  of  indiffer- 
ence. 


Stkauss  on  "  Identity- 
Philosophy  and  uncon- 
cern. 


Ritter's  geography  in- 
cites earthly  interests. 


Alex,  and  Wilh. 

UUMBOLOT. 


"IDENTITY-PHILOSOPHY."  I.  A.    CH.  1.  §1. 

Philp'scph^y'  of  late,  however,  in  its  endeavor  to  reduce  all  dualistic  modes  of 
consciousness  into  the  one  concrete  entity  of  materialistic  Monism,  has  allowed  the 
impression  to  spread,  that  human  existence  was  to  be  consigned  to  the  globe  alone. 
The  intellectual  trend  of  the  time  was  more  than  favorable  to  the  degradation  of  the 
Philosophy  of  History  into  a  branch  of  Natural  science. 

Buckle  in  1853  wrote  to  Lord  Kington :  "  I  confess  that  long  ago  I  was  convinced  of  the 
fact,  that  the  development  of  a  people  is  regulated  by  principles,  called  laws,  which  work  with 
the  exactness  of  those  in  the  physical  world." 

The  great  geographer  Ritter  wrote  to  the  celebrated  historian  Eanke:  "Themoral 
process  runs  in  the  curves  of  natural  laws." 

The  emphasis  laid  upon  the  study  of  structural  geography  in  connection  with  the  study 
of  history,  in  a  treatise  read  before  the  Association  of  Colleges  (Swarthmore  near  Philadel- 
phia A.  D.1892),is  a  significant  sign  of  the  pressure,  which  the  atmosphere  of  the  time  exerts 
upon  the  modern  author  and  instructor. 

Bleek  made  mere  natural  causes  account  for  the  fall  of  Rome. 

The  antiquated  notions  of  Herakleitos  and  Lucretius  were  revived  by  the  German 
"  Identity-Philosophy."  In  consequence  of  it,  the  origin  and  development  of  man  and  of  his- 
tory once  more  were  deduced  from  such  pseudo-syllogisms  as  "  Natural  Selection,"  etc. 

Spinoza  had  reasoned  out,  that  thought  and  extension  were  modified  states  or  attributes 
of  the  same  "  Substance."  Schelling,  following  this  trend  of  speculation,  almost  identified 
the  spirit  with  nature,  leaning  toward  physical  Monism.  Hegel  improved  upon  both  by  sub- 
stituting the  "  Idea,"  as  abstracted  from  the  world  of  physical  phenomena,  for  "  Substance." 
For  some  time  the  world  was  made  to  believe  that  history  was  but  the  hypostatisation  of 
that  abstraction.  Hegelianism  thus  dissolved  the  essential  value  of  historical  facts  also  into 
mere  phenomena,  (Schein).  This  explains,  why  Hegel  for  the  largest  part  of  his  Philosophy 
of  History  meditates  upon  the  Hindoos  and  Chinese,  of  whom  he  makes  the  most  in  support 
of  his  theory.  He  loves  these  "  dreaming  Asiatics,"  in  whom,  according  to  him,  the  Deity  was 
asleep  as  yet  in  order  to  come  to  itself  in  the  consciousness  of  Jesus  and  the  Hegelian  school. 
The  weapons  for  the  defence  of  outspoken  Pantheism  were  forged  from  Buddhism.  Much  of 
this  philosophy  reflects  its  rays  in  Arnold's  poem  "Light  of  Asia".  Under  the  proud  title 
of  "  Theosophists  "  some  spoiled  philosophers  now  try  to  displace  the  Cross  by  the  Lotus. 
How  far  our  century  has  become  contaminated  with  such  phraseology  is  illustrated  by  the 
popularisation  of  the  "Christ- Idea"  in  Miss  Evans'  (George  Eliot's)  novels  which  still  en- 
chant some  literary  amateurs.  Her  "  ethics  "  are  deemed  by  a  great  many  the  most  refined 
essence  of  religion,  because  it  relieves  one  from  accepting  the  truth  of  the  historical  records 
about  the  Crucified  One.  This  evaporated  gospel  is  the  result  of  applying  Hegelian  Philoso- 
phy to  the  biblical  facts  of  salvation.  Every  where  we  observe,  how  from  that  colorless  spectre 
"  generalness "  the  particulars  are  deduced  and  contorted  into  semblance  with  certain  pet 
notions :  how  from  a  void  vagueness  the  apparation  of  a  copious  reality  rises  up— a  fata 
morgana.  And  this  furnished  the  apparatus  in  which  sacred  history  was  to  be  distilled  into 
intoxicants  to  the  religious  taste  of  everybody,  into  stimulants  which,  under  the  guise  of 
science,  were  to  give  strength  for  scoffing  at  faith.  Not  a  few  of  those  claiming  "education  " 
delighted  to  move  in  such  a  world  of  delusions,  aping  that  quasi-religious  attitude  of  self- 
adoration.  Thus  were  the  earthly  and  heavenly  things,  the  natural  and  spiritual  worlds, 
brought  to  the  level  of  indifference ;  and  the  compromise  was  hung  low  enough  for  self  com- 
placent minds  to  see  religious  things  under  that  perspective. 

Schelling  and  Hegel,  by  force  of  their  dialectics,  had  commanded  matter  and 
mind  to  lie  down  quiet  in  that  indifferent  identity,  that  chaotic  Pan  into  which  they 
had  been  thrown.  Strauss  ridiculed  that  philosophy  of  identity  and  unconcern.  He 
defined  materialism  to  be  nothing  but  idealism  set  upon  its  head,  but  now  turned  up- 
side down,  so  as  to  stand  upon  its  feet  again.  As  the  precipitate  of  ambiguous  specula- 
tion, modern  materialism  comes  under  our  observation  among  the  residue  of  other 
sublunar  freaks  of  history.  It  is  necessary  to  become  fully  acquainted  with  its  roots 
and  ramifications,  its  lineage  being  quite  natural,  and  its  seasons  of  growth  recurring 
not  without  purpose,  nor  without  cause.  As  a  reaction  against  impudent  theories,  it 
was  not  the  first  time  that  materialism  meted  out  to  them  what  they  deserved. 

When  the  lingering  clouds  of  idealism  had  been  scattered  by  the  storms  of  '48, 
the  earth  was  taken  into  consideration  Ritter  raised  geography  to  the  rank  of  a 
science.  He  brought  the  globe  to  the  notice  of  men,  reminding  the  Germans  at  last, 
that  they  had  something  solid  under  their  feet  which  was  preferable  to  the  cloudy 
realm  above  their  heads.  He  showed  how  the  various  formations  of  the  earth's 
surface  exert  their  direct  influences  upon  the  natural  dispositions  or  temperaments  of 
men.  The  shapes  of  continents,  direction  of  mountain-chains  and  watersheds,  the  ex- 
tensions of  plains  or  coast-lines,  or  river-bottoms,  the  wave-lines  of  the  isotherms  and 
the  latitudes— all  were  asked  to. contribute  toward  the  differentiation  of  the  race  with 
regard  to  languages,  customs,  cultures.    A  period  of  praiseworthy  emulation  was 


I.  A.    CH   I.  §1.  SCIENCES    UTILISED.  5 

inaugurated  by  savants  like  Ritter  and  the  Humboldts.  Ether  and  ocean,  strata  of 
antediluvian  and  pre-glacial  rocks  and  forests,  the  tellurian  relations  to  the  galaxy 
and  the  sun's  spots,  all  yielded  their  share  to  enrich  not  only  the  storehouse  of 
knowledge,  but  also  to  increase  the  conveniencies  of  life.  The  investigations  of  ocean- 
bottoms  and  of  mountain-slopes  not  only  caused  the  eye  to  have  visions  of  vegetable 
and  animal  biology,  but  also  resulted  in  direct  and  more  practical  advantages— 
perhaps  the  laying  of  a  cable  or  the  erection  of  a  smeltery. 

No  wonder  that  some  heads  were  turned  by  exalting  the  utilisation  of  scientific  Decline  of  cuitus  not  to 
research.    It  is  true,  that  this  culture  caused  a  decline  of  cuitus,  yet  the  industrial  aw"^"^  "''*'°  *''*""'"^ 
triumphs  of  human  sagacity  need  not  to  be  frowned  at;  for,  the  increasing  worldliness 
and  profanation  of  life  is  as  much,  perhaps,  to  be  blamed  upon  theological  stagnation; 
while  on  the  other  hand,  the  progressiveness  of  worldly  culture  in  its  conquest  of 
space  and  time  and  masses,  celebrated  in  a  series  of  world-expositions,  bears  a  mark- 
ed feature  of  ethical  import.    The  prosperity  we  owe  to  technical  inventions  and  the  prosperity  m  christian- 
triumphs  alluded  to,  are  so  many  evidences  of  the  superiority  of  mind  over  matter;  of  Sng?ucafsi'de°"rovls 
the  superiority,  too,  of  the  Teutonic  part  of  Christian  civilisation.  over'ma^ti""*^  ""^  '"'"'^ 

Still  no  biology  nor  electricity  will  afford  sufläcient  explanation  for  the  differentia- 
tion and  development  of  the  social  or  any  other  organism.  Only  as  an  ethical 
^personality  can  man  render  nature  intelligible  and  serviceable,  he  alone  being  the 
[rational  agent  with  power  to  be  a  cause  himself,  on  account  of  whom  and  because  of 
whom  every  thing  exists. 

In  man  alone  is  to  be  found  the  explanation  of  the  great  successes  of  modern 
times,  because  he*  alone  possesses  consciousness  which  fits  him  for  universal  and 
perpetual  aspirations.  Without  memory,  that  is  without  experiences  traditionally 
accumulated,  it  would  be  impossible  to  improve  upon,  and  utilise  the  prior  acquisi- 
tions made  by  the  mind  and  through  its  culture. 

Now  history  is  to  humanity,  to  man  collectively,  what  memory  is  to  the  indivi-  History  is  to  humanity 
dual.    Without  this  manifestation  of  self-consciousness,  persisting  through  all  ages,  sec\T.^'^°'^  '^  ^^  ™^" 
all  changes  of  localities  and  opportunities,  the  previous  approaches  toward  our  final 
acme  of  culture  would  have  been  of  no  avail  to  us.    The  boast  of  our  high  attainments 
might  even  be  toned  down  a  little,  if  that  memory  were  duly  refreshed.    For  con- 
sidering our  inherited  facilities  and  comparing  with  them  our  present  state  of  affairs,  STned  down.*'"""'^*  *° ''* 
which  to  a  great  extent  justifies  the  complaints  of  pessimism,  we  may  as  well  confess, 
that  with  the  means  at  hand  a  still  higher  ci\ilisation  and  more  beneficial  results 
ought  to  have  been  obtained  by  this  time. 

The  solution  for  which  many  problems  are  still  waiting  is  to  be  expected  from 
man's  inner  constitution  alone,  and  certainly  not  found  in  geognostic  conjectures. 
As  yet  by  far  the  largest  part  of  man's  own  self  is  hidden  to  systematic  knowledge, 
and  the  largest  part  of  the  human  race  as  yet  stands  on  the  low  grade  of  arrested 
development,  and  belongs  to  the  lowest  strata  of  personal  life.  Were  it  otherwise  we 
would  as  gladly  give  our  cordial  assent  to  the  great  geographer,  as  we  thank  him  for  a  new  ime  of  argu- 
being  enabled  to  enter  upon  a  new  line  of  argument,  where  the  physico-monistic  view  ™*''  ■  ^''-  >  •  - 
may  hesitate  to  follow  suit. 

Evolutionism  and  anthropo-geography,  being  entangled  in  environments,  and 
posing  upon  soil  and  climate,  try  to  evolve  from  them  what  never  was  embodied  in  me^nTSniaSXa 
them.    The  earnest  labors  of  geographers  and  geologists  might  have  been  utilised  to  """^^'^  ^^^''*' 
greater  advantages,  than  has  been  done  by  Darwinism. 

According  to  the  latter,  climate,  coast-lines,  food,  or  any  conglomeration  of  atoms 
constitute  the  principal  motors  and  factors  of  human  activity.  It  is  true,  surround- 
ings exert  strong  influences  upon  the  inhabitants. 

But  not  always,  not  with  the  same  effects,  not  at  all  exclusively.  Let  us  examine. 

Asia  is  the  continent  of  the  most  varying  contrasts,  preeminently  adapted  to  pro-  criticism  of  anthropq 
duce  the  greatest  variety  of  human  characteristics.  Deserts  reach  down  from  high  ^^°^''^^^- 
plateaus  to  the  shores  of  gulfs  and  rivers.  Jungles,  prairies,  forests,  regions  of  veri- 
table garden-lands,  the  highest  mountains  and  the  largest  peninsulas  change  off 
everywhere.  But  man  forgot  to  profit  by  the  changes.  He  remained  a  child  of 
nature,  which  he  could  not  learn  to  understand;  instead  of  making  it  serviceable  he 
deified  that  nature  below  him. 


Geographical  and  ethni- 
cal characteristics  of 
Asia.  Sec.  29,  33. 


Peschel's  suppositions  on 
culture  do  not  hold 
good. 


Haeckxl  and 
Renan  :  reductlo  ad  ab- 
surdum. 


If  environments  affect 
man,  then  man  is  no 
less  to  be  credited  with 
power  to^transf  orm 
nature. 


Terrestrial  conditions  af- 
fect human  develop- 
ment: 


not  beyond  a  certain 

limit. 

Sec.5, 10,  44,  45, 101,219. 


T.  G.  Mueller's  argu- 
ment fails. 


Rivers  create  no  cul- 
tures. 


BucKLX:  led  ad  absurd. by 


GotDWi»  Smith 
and  Pbschkl. 


INTLUENCES  OF  SUEROUNDINGS»  TO  A  CERTAIN  LIMIT.  I.  A.  Ch.  1.  §1. 

There,  through  all  ages,  we  find  mixed  masses  of  nomades  and  mariners,  farmers  and 
hunters,  traders  and  robbers,  moguls  and  beggars,  crowding  each  other,  fighting  and  migrat- 
ing. Such  ''friction  and  mixture,"  according  to  Peschel,  "are  the  main  conditions  for  future 
culture."  Friction  and  mixing  he  takes  for  the  cause  of  Asiatic  culture,  while  Hegel  imputes 
Chinese  stagnancy  and  Hindoo  melancholy  and  inertia  to  the  same  localities. 

Wide,  waste  regions  may  create  robbers;  the  Sahara  swarms  with  Tuaregs;  the  Gobi 
with  Tu-kiu ;  but  so  do  certain  quarters  of  certain  large  cities  swarm  with  people  not  less 
rapacious  and  not  "down  town"  only.  Nature  fortified  the  people  along  the  upper  Danube 
against  the  unwelcome  guests  from  the  Volga  by  a  pass,  called  the  "Iron  Gate",  while  the 
Chinese  had  to  build  their  wall  against  the  incessant  intruders.  Now  why  were  the  peaceable 
people  in  the  regions  adjacent  and  just  as  waste,  not  robbers  also  ?  Comanches  and  Apaches 
squirm  through  the  barren  steppes  of  sage  and  cactus  in  Mexico  and  Arizona,  but  the  Gauchoes 
are  none  the  better  for  their  green  pampas.  Did  the  rovers  of  these  deserts  ever  ascribe  their 
savage  life  to  their  environments  when  justice  forced  them  to  abandon  their  favorite  occupa- 
tion of  scalping  ?  "Would  they  have  asked  to  be  excused  for  their  savagery,  on  account  of  the 
wild  canyons  of  the  Colorado,  if  Herr  Haeckel  had  met  them  there  on  their  trails? 
They  all  have  not  the  slightest  idea  of  the  relation  between  their  zones  and  themselves.  But 
all  their  countries  assume  a  quite  different  aspect,  as  soon  as  people  from  civilised  nations 
even  their  refuse,  take  possession  of,  and  irrigate  such  regions  and  plant  orange  groves. 
Since  soil  and  climate  and  food  have  been  considered  as  determining  coefficients  of  history  in 
forming  human  character,  why  may  ndt  rather  man  form,  even  transform  the  character  of 
the  country?  As  a  part  of  nature  he  has  at  least  the  same  privileges.  We  see  the  theory  of 
evolution  from  environments  is  alluring  only  where  it  binds  man  to  nature — but  it  proves  too 
much.  The  beautiful  regions  around  Nazareth  did  not  produce  the  model  character  of  the 
carpenter's  son,  as  Renan  strongly  insinuated ;  else  why  could  Nazareth,  proverbial  for  its 
unproductiveness  of  any  thing  good,  also  produce  those  citizens  who  tried  to  dispatch  their 
rabbi?  "Evolution"  would  forbid  the  conclusion  that  expansive  regions  contract  the  horizon 
of  reason,  whereas  it  is  simply  because  man  continues  on  the  plane  of  the  natural,  that  he 
never  rises  to  understand,  much  less  to  dominate  over  nature. 

Granted,  that  the  shape  of  the  coasts  and  mountains  of  Europe  was  favorable  to 
a  manifold  culture,  while  the  tribes  of  Africa  and  Australia  were  deprived  of  such 
advantages  by  the  compactness  of  their  continents  and  by  the  strai^htness  of  their 
ocean-coasts.  The  monotony  of  scenery  tells  on  the  people  in  their  lack  of  phantasy, 
in  the  melancholy  and  monotony  of  their  physiognomies  and  lingual  forms  of  ex- 
pression. 

Yet  all  of  these  terrestrial  conditions  do  not  affect  human  beings  beyond  a  fixed 
limit. 

In  most  cases  they  do  not  sufiice  to  account  for  glaring  differences  which  leave 
the  scientist  in  a  dilemma,  despite  the  natural  "conditions  being  equal,"  as  Spencer's 
magic  formula  has  it. 

J.  G.  Mueller,  for  instance,  asserts,  that  the  torrid  zones  produce  sun-worship,  and  frigid 
latitudes  a  superstitious  belief  in  ghosts,  Shamanism.  According  to  that  theory  it  should  be 
very  cold  in  the  Congo  state.  It  has  been  often  repeated  that  the  great  river- valleys  bring 
forth  civilised  states,  since  the  Nile  figures  as  the  creator  of  Aegypt,  the  Ganges  for  the  mother 
of  Buddhism.  But  why  does  father  Nile  not  continue  to  provide  for  the  poor  Fellahs  of  the 
present  time  ? 

The  three  streams  of  Africa  put  together  do  not  convey  such  water-power,  nor  a£Pord 
such  great  opportunities  as  the  Amazon  river  alone.  How  shall  we  explain  the  fact,  that  the 
children  of  the  former  fell  behind,  and  the  neighbors  of  the  latter  stayed  behind  ?  On  the 
contrary,  as  against  the  river-bottom  theory  we  might  argue  in  favor  of  high  plateaus;  think 
of  the  states  and  cultures  of  the  Toltecs,  Aztecs  and  Inkas  in  Mexico,  Yucatan,  Quito  and 
Peru.  Why  were  the  Chinese,  why  the  Arabs  at  times  so  expanding,  whilst  the  neighboring 
Aegyptians  were  always  stationary  ?  Not  because  of  too  many  or  not  enough  geographical 
barriers;  for  we  have  seen  the  Indians  of  Alaska  coming  down  a  thousand  miles  in  their 
canoes  to  pick  hops  around  Seattle,  while  the  Amazon  is  not  used  by  the  Brazilian  Indians  to 
cross  to  the  nearer  Antilles,  much  less  to  New  York. 

As  a  general  rule,  mountains,  lakes  and  steppes  did  not  so  much  separate  people 
as  rather  increase  their  migratory  inclinations.  Yet  the  Mississippi,  Amazon  and  Ori- 
noco did  not  accomplish  that  with  which  the  Nile,  Euphrates  and  Ganges  are  ac- 
credited. This  shows  that  rivers  become  assisting  factors  of  culture  only,  where  ad- 
vanced people  dwell;  to  abandoned  people  they  become  distinct  boundary  lines,  as  the 
Senegal  became  for  Berbers  and  negroes. 

Buckle,  "most  severe  upon  the  extravagancies  of  the  race-theory,"  himself  falls  into  ab- 
surdities. He  connects  the  religious  character  of  the  Spaniards  with  imaginary  volcanoes  and 
earth-quakes,  whereas  it  palpably  had  its  origin  in  the  long  struggles  with  the  Moors.  He  in 
like  manner  connects  the  theological  tendencies  of  Scottish  thought  with  the  thunder  storms, 
which  he  wrongly  imagined  to  be  very  frequent  in  the  high-lands;  whereas  "theology  and  re- 
ligious tenets  almost  identical  with  those  of  the  Scotch  were  generally  formed  in  the  low-lands 
and  among:  the  Teutons,  not  among  the  Celts"  says  Goldwin  Smith. 


I.  A.  Ch.  I.  §  2.  STELLAB  AND  LUNAR  INFLUENCES.  7 

Buckle  was  very  assiduous  in  making  man's  religion  the  product  of  his  birth-place  and 
nothing  more.  Peschel  in  his  Ethnology  refers  to  Mexico  in  rebuttal  of  this  argument.  This  S'ro^veslÄpf  ^ 
is  a  land  of  sun-shine  and  serenity ;  but  behold  into  what  dark  souls  the  Aztecs  must  have  geographical  allegation. 
evolved,  when  we  read  of  a  collection  of  170,000  skulls,  the  relics  of  human  sacrifices,  built  up 
into  pyramids  in  Montezuma's  cosy  court-yard.  Such  exceedingly  unnatural  depravity, 
where  the  conditions  were  so  conducive  to  refinement !  And  is  the  depravity  less,  or  are  the 
conditions  more  unfavorable  to  civilisation  in  some  street  not  a  mile  from  the  Tuilleries  or 
from  Wall  street? 

In  our  expectations,  roused  by  propositions  like  those  of  Buckle,  we  were  disap- 
pointed.   He  importuned  us  to  believe  his  promise  of  a  full  account  of  historic  de-  originaiiy  countries 

^  were  named  after  their 

velopment  through  terrestrial  causes,  but  he  did  not  keep  it.    We  may  name  a  man  inhabitants. 
after  his  native  home,  but  originally  the  countries  were  named  after  their  inhabitants 
and  by  them.    This  goes  far  to  prove,  that  man  ev^r  had  the  feeling  of  what  we 
formulate  into  this  axiom:    The  key  of  nature  lies  in  man,  and  not  vice  versa. 

The  proposition,  that  terrestrial  circumstances  were  shaping  ethnical  charac- 
teristics    aggravated  the  dilemma  in  which  the  scientific  expounders  of  historical  de-  i^t^l'iTnAuences'''' 
velopment  were  caught.    We  on  our  part  now  propose  a  higher  causality  of  determin-  ^"^  ^>  ^' 

ing  influences.  Let  us  try  the  astral  hypothesis,  that  line  of  argument,  to  which 
previously  allusion  has  been  made.  It  once  sufliced  the  Chaldeans  who  invented  the 
zodiac  for  the  very  purpose  of  disclosing  man  and  his  mysterious  history. 

History  knows  of  more  than  one  Napoleon  who  followed  his  lucky  star. 

"Pope  Paul  III,  according  to  Mendoza  (as  quoted  by  Ranke)  held  no  important  of^astrauntaences?  °° 
session  of  the  consistory,  nor  made  he  a  journey,  without  first  having  consulted  the  M°endozT-RANKE, 
stars  on  the  choice  of  fitting  days. 

Newspapers,  abetting  the  views  and  opinions  of  the  "creme"  of  society,  contain  columns 
of  advertisements  for  the  benefit  of  such  of  their  patrons  as  frequent  the  star-readers.  One 
certain  Sachse  ("the  Law  of  Numbers  in  the  Excitability  of  Nations")  with  all  seriousness 
deals  once  more  in  astrology,  demonstrating  nervous  sensitiveness  by  tabulated  wave-lines, 
wherein  ascending  curves  correspond  with  the  increasing  number  of  sun-spots.  This  is  ^'*^^'^^^ '|ec*TT  2i'*27 
"Ethnographical  Psychology"  and  automatic  evolution  with  a  vengeance. 

Now,  as  the  choice  of  our  hypothesis  indicates,  we  are  far  from  denying  a  very  di-  ^{j^^po'°"o » ^o'l* 
rect  action  of  the  whole  sun-system  on  our  bodies,  not  so  much  through  the  physical 
elements  of  our  corporeal  parts,  as  by  way  of  our  planet.    These  sidereal  relations  do 
exist.    We  shall  even  recur  to  them  and  make  extended  use  of  them,  noticing  how 
the  sun  connects  millennia,  at  the  least,  of  natural  with  modern  universal  history. 

The  allusion  to  these  sidereal  influences,  however,  has  no  other  object  but  to  show, 
that  we  are  pointed  to  a  world  above  where,  perhaps,  we  may  find  causes  not  divulged 
by  terrestrial  grounds.    By  the  way  we  may  take  the  liberty  to  show  also  the  futility 
ofthat  abortive  attempt  to  degrade  man,  humanity  and  history  to  a  mere  issue  of  the  Sopmen't'' tife''"*"'**' 
play  of  matter  and  motion.    We  grant  a  world  full  of  natural  influences  upon  human  S\)eyond  a  cer- 
nature.    But  as  against  the  view  of  "dynamics,"  we  stand  by  our  axiom,  which  will  be  *»^"  ^^Tec*  i  loi  219 
rendered  more  and  more  lucid,  that  tlie  laws  of  natural  development  do  not  affect  the 
human  being  beyond  a  certain  limit. 

We  shall  keep  in  mind,  that  the  deep  chasm  l^etween  the  inorganic,  organic,  and 
psychical  parts  of  nature  on  the  one  hand,  and  the  psycho-spiritual  and  pneumatical 
sides  of  our  nature  on  the  other,  can  not  be  bridged  by  any  superficial  subterfuge  of  a  spencer  refuted: 
certain  scientific  leger-de-main.     Functions  can  not  be  explained  by  structures,  cafife^C?^  ^°^'^^^^' 
Spencer  notwithstanding.    Intrinsically  as  the  workings  of  the  highest  differentiated  structure, 
organisms  may  interact,  (read  the  old  article  on  "Logic"  in  the  Britanica)  life  can  not 
result  therefrom.    Life  precedes  and  supersedes  the  cells,  the  protoplasm. 

Goethe's  homunculus  was  a  travesty  upon   the  presumption  of  man  to  figure  as  a  crea-  goethe's  travesty- 
tor.    Liebig  wrote:  "Chemistry  in' all  its  laboratories  can  never  succeed  in  manufacturing  a  Homunculus. 
single  cell  or  a  nerve  or  the  like,  which  would  be  fit  for  a  conductor  of  the  vital  power  Limits  of  natural 
much  less  a  vital  germ  itself."    Virchow  and  Dubois-Reymond  have  endorsed  this  statement,  science: 

Thelatter  enumerated  these  seven  riddles  of  the  world;  "(1.)    substance  of  matter  and  ^i^"'*' ^i»"*«^- 
force;  (2.)  origin  of  motion  and  life;  (3.)  conformity  to  a  purpose  apparently  preconceived  DtTBois-REYMOND: 
altho  seeming  unintentional;  (4.)  the  rise  of  a  simple  sensation ;  (5.)  of  a  thought ;  (6.)  of  con-  Seven  riddles, 
sciousness;  (7.)  of  free  will. 

Why,  then,  continue  to  amuse  the  uninitiated  with  the  dire  myths  of  "spontaneous 
generation"  and  the  like? 

Our  axiom,  that  despite  the  much  popularised  and  believed  dogma  of  -automatic,  or 
dynamic  evolution,  natural  selfdevelopment  can  never  transcend  a  certain  limit— is  certainly 
vindicated,  even  by  many  concessions  of  Tyndall   himself,  altho   evasive.    He  condemns  the  Tyndall:   No  world- 
erection  of  a  world-theory  upon  so  frail  a  basis  and  so  fraught  with  error.  basis  so  frail. "' 


Result :  Human  activity 
determined  by  causes 
beyond  known  nature. 


Research  passing  over 
into  the  metaphysical 
realm. 


Natural  science  incom- 
petent to  fill  the  chair  of 
history. 


Philosophy  claims  to 
reason  inductively  from 
empirics  with  as  much 
right  as  science  assumes 
to  account  for 
"mathematical  trans- 
cendentals"bjf  borrowing 
"universals"'         Sec.  14. 


Teleological  intent 
vindicated. 


The  sole  presumption: 
Necessity  of  the 
"Absolute  Good." 


The  dogma  of  a  nator« 
alism  which  falls 
behind  Stoicism. 


PROGRESS  MUST  HAVE  A  GOAL.  I.  A.  CH.  I.  §  2. 

We  are  therefore  most  assuredly  justified  to  search  for  the  vital  and  life-connect- 
ing principle  in  the  world  above.  Is  that  what  the  naturalists  are  so  much  afraid  of? 
Why?  The  presumption  of  founding  a  world-theory  upon  spontaneous  generation 
and  natural  selection  certainly  has  no  right  to  interdict  our  search  higher  up.  We 
are  not  to  blame  for  seeking  explanation  in  the  metaphysical  realm.  Why  should  we 
not  suppose  the  postulate  to  which  all  indications  point:  that  human  activity  is  de- 
termined by  causes  beyond  nature  as  we  know  it?  Why  not  risk  an  experiment?  We 
on  our  part  have  no  reason  to  fear  the  loss  of  our  good  senses  thereby,  much  less  since 
we  have  sure  historical  experiences  by  which  to  go  as  pledges  of  success! 

Suppose  then,  we  set  aside  the  unprofitable  and  unavailing  hypothesis  of  mechan- 
ical lawfulness  and  natural  necessity  ruling  history,  and  place  ourselves  on  the  look- 
out for  liberty.  In  case  we  should  fail  in  an  intelligible  manner  to  prove  real  in- 
fluences from  a  higher  sphere  of  life  or  a  supernatural  source,  setting  things  in 
motion  and  manifesting  sway  in  historv,  it  would  be  no  disgrace  to  retreat« 

In  Mexico  and  India  and  all  around  us,  wherever  mankind  is  as  yet  shackled  by 
nature,  and  lives  in  that  stage  of  arrested  life,  which  results  from  natural  develop- 
ment alone,  we  find  human  progress  at  an  end.  The  limits  of  ascent  being  reached 
with  that  point  where  for  instance  the  Chinaman  contents  himself  to  dwell,  natura- 
lism leaves  humanity  in  a  lamentable  condition.  Even  astrological  fortune-telling, 
altho  betraying  the  consciousness  of  better  things  along  with  that  mysterious  long- 
ing of  which  we  shall  take  notice  as  a  historical  fact,  only  aggravates  the  situation. 
Hence  natural  science  is  not  competent  to  fill,  and  should  not  attempt  to  usurp,  the 
chair  of  history.  To  philosophise  upon  history  means  to  view  life  from  an  aspect 
higher  than  a  kitchen,  to  look  upon  the  world  from  transcendental  grounds,  from  the 
supernatural,  if  it  pleases  better  to  call  it  so,  or  as  we  here  and  there  may  say,  from 
spheres  transeunt,  which  need  not  be  ruled  out  of  order  as  being  unnatural. 

Surely,  such  a  standpoint  can  not  disqualify  philosophy,  nor  can  it  be  forbidden 
her.  Nor  ought  it  to  be  ridiculed,  if  she  ascends  one  step  higher,  above  baffling  mysti- 
fications and  terminologies  so  as  to  gain  a  free  position  and  the  most  comprehensive 
range  of  vision  possible.  Philosophy  is  pressed  to  rise  above  mere  empiricism, 
which  labors  under  its  own  present  predicaments,  not  to  speak  of  the  difficulty  of 
finding  itself  out  of  the  labyrinths  of  those  sixty  or  seventy  centuries  full  of  the 
enigmas  of  human  affairs  which  are  not  as  yet  irrelevant  to  us.  The  Philosophy  of 
History  does  not  need  to  sever  her  connection  with  the  world  and  its  nature  for  all 
that;  nor  to  infringe  on  foreign  grounds.  If  naturalism  prefers  deduction  from  below, 
from  material  premises,  to  cover  or  account  for  even  mathematical  transcendentals,  by 
borrowing  from  metaphysical  a  prioris  and  results,  then  we,  too,  may  claim  the  right 
to  use  the  path  of  deduction  and  to  call  upon  intuition  for  assistance,  without  jeopar- 
dising what  was  gained  by  induction.  By  applying  both  deduction  and  intuition,  we 
will  test  the  legitimacy  of  postulates  gleaned  by  induction,  and  so  doubly  test  the 
truth  of  our  conclusions.  If  we  should  be  arraigned  for  the  announcement  of  a  pur- 
pose, for  advocating  the  aim,  for  speaking  of  a  teleological  intent,  we  beg  to  differ 
from  Materialism  simply  in  that  we  seek  the  very  end,  which  dynamic  evolutionism 
puts  into  things,  so  that  they  may  have  something  to  swing  around  in  their  circles. 
In  that  which  secures  the  goal  of  moral  development,  we  hope  to  find  the  one  thing  ne- 
cessary which,  concerning  personal  life,  we  regard  as  "the"  necessity  to  the  exclusion 
of  any  other,  in  the  necessity  of  the  real,  the  Absolute  Good  of  humanity,  i.  e.  the 
necessity  of  its  realisation. 

The  aim  for  which  we  look,  is  nothing  less  than  the  glorious  perfection  of  crea- 
tion. We  could  not  satisfy  reason  nor  comfort  the  heart  with  the  reiterated  dogma  of 
materialism  according  to  which  human  happiness  and  blessedness  should  depend  on 
environments  and  be  jeopardised  by  outward  circumstances.  We  have  advanced  too 
far  since  the  age  of  Stoicism,  as  to  fall  behind  even  that.  We  mean  to  preserve  the 
dignity  of  history  and  humanity,  and  not  to  suffer  them  both  to  be  consigned  to  the 
metempsychosis  of  water-bubbles,  as  it  were,  nor  the  cosmos  to  a  pyro-technical  fiasco. 
Not  until  the  naturalistic  scientists  have  adduced  demonstrative  proof  of  their  insin- 
uations to  that  effect,  will  the  Philosophy  of  History  hand  in  her  resignation. 


I.  A.  CH.  I.   §3.  FALSE  SPIRITUALISM  VIEWS  THE  WORLD  AS  A  MECHANISM.  9 

CH.  II.    RELATION  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  HISTORY  TO  METAPHYSICS. 

Presumptuousness  of 

§3.    Because  Naturalism  conceives  matter  moving  under  "laws"  of  inherent  ne-  Naturalism. 
cessitv,  FiS  the  ultimate  cause  of  all,  even  spiritual  activity,  and  because  it  is  apt  to  i-^^o*  necessity  inher- 

•^ '  '  ,  ^  ent  111  matter  explains 

ignore  phenomena  which  it  cannot  explain  nor  deny  by  these  laws— it  gets  entangled  neither  n^r^««"- 
in  nature  instead  of  getting  emancipated  from  it. 

Pliilosophy  of  History  in  the  interest  of  humanity  refuses,  as  humanity  itself 
does,  to  be  made  the  victim  of  such  drudgery  and  treadmill  business  under  mechan- 
ical "laws."  She  is  getting  herself  ready  for  the  rescue  of  personality  and  the  liberty 
of  tliought.  Even  tho  the  attitude  she  takes,  may  to  Materialism  look  like  pugnacity, 
she  nevertheless  cultivates  friendship  with  the  Natural  Sciences. 

On  the  other  hand,  however,  our  science  must  also  settle  a  few  items  with  Me-  pmios.  cultivates  friend- 
taphysics.    This  has  always  shown  a  tendency  to  deprive  the  natural  world  of  free  sciTn^es*^  ''**"''^ 
movement,  to  decry  its  relative  independence,  to  depreciate  its  value  as  the  secondary 
good,  to  calumniate  it  as  the  seat  and  source  of  sin,  to  despise  its  aesthetical  import. 
From  such  wrongs  nature  must  be  exonerated;  it  is  to  be  set  aright  as  the  mirror 
of  celestial  splendor  and  harmony.    It  is  to  be  shown  how  and  why  nature  is  able  to  ^^^  ^^^^  ^^  ^^^  ^^^^^ 
retain  and  to  display  these  reflections,  notwithstanding  its  changes,  its  deficiencies  ^Jjth  M^t^piiysS''  '^^""^ 
and  vicissitudes. 

A  false  spirituality  had  tainted  the  judgment  as  to  the  relations  between  mind  Misconception  of  nature 
and  matter.  It  could  see  nothing  in  nature  but  contemptible  cosmic  stuff,  void  of  ^^'  *  ^^^^^  spirituality. 
any  formative  principle.  It  therefore  still  acts  as  though  it  must  take  away  from  na- 
ture the  capability  of  preparing  itself  for  the  reception  of  new  scions  to  be  engrafted 
upon  it  as  tho  the  capacity  for  a  cooperative  process  of  unfolding  itself  must  be 
denied  to  nature.  That  false  spirituality  thinks  it  necessary  to  wipe  out  the  grada- 
tion of  the  ascending  scale  of  formations  by  unduly  emphasising.  Leibnitz's  law  of 
"continuity."  False  spirituality  considers  the  minutest  details  in  nature  as  immedi- 
ate creative  acts,  as  tho  the  Creator  himself  were  pushing  every  blade  of  grass  and 
were  throwing  millions  of  blossoms  into  waste. 

In  order  to  spare  philosophy  such  absurdities  of  a  mechanical  omnipotence,  Mal- 
ebranche  composed  his  system  of  the  "Occasional  Cause,"  improving,  as  he  supposed,  "occasionalism": 
upon  Descartes.     Suggestive  and  plausible  as  this  system  seemed,  yet  nature  and  £™i7ri9. 
mind  were  so  far  alienated  as  to  represent  two  distinctly  separate  entities  running, 
without  any  parity  or  community  of  being  between  them,  alongside  of  each  other 
without  ever  coming  to  united  action,  not  even  in  the  human  person.    Body  and  soul  Mechanical  conception  of 

.    .  '■J  tljg  relation  between 

are  treated  as  heterogeneous  quantities;  yoked  together,  they  never  even  incite  each  mind  and  matter. 
other  to  simultaneous  action. 

According  to  that  theory  it  is  no  proof  that  the  foot  is  moved  by^the  mind,  tho  impressions  from 
the  mind  be  conscious  of  the  motion.    Neither  are  any  corporeal  mutations,  affecting  witMn^'L^KE.^^^'*'""' 
the  moods  of  the  psychical  part  of  human  nature,  nor  any  facts  proving  that  the  body 
affects  the  mind,  considered  as  proofs  by  this  theory. 

Physical  motions  and  mental  emotions,  impressions  from  without  and  impulses  lkibmtzs  attempt  to 
from  within,  incitements  of  subjective  thought  by  objects,  were. dimly  distinguished  'wa^ebranX'^s  theory. 
by  Locke,  and  were  made,  or  rather  described,  as  fitting  each  other  by  Leibnitz  in  his 
attempt  to  correct  "Occasionalism"  by  "Preestablished  Harmony."  Thus  it  only  ap- 
pears to  us  as  if  the  body  was  actuated  by  the  mind  or  vice  versa.  For,  "the  monads 
of  Leibnitz  have  no  windows,"  through  which  any  external  agency,  foreign  to  them, 
could  enter  or  go  out  so  as  to  affect  their  internal  condition. 

This  view,  begging  the  question  of  having  any  view  at  all,  illustrates  the  absur-  "Mechanics-  of 
dity  of  the  other  side.    One  can  scarcely  distinguish  this  mechanical  spiritism  from  of 'iSiausm"'*'"'"  " 
dynamic  mechanism. 

The  old  paths  must  be  abandoned  and  new  roads  built,  whereupon  to  arrive  at  the 
solution  of  the  problem,  viz:  upon  what  ultimate  principle  is  the  formal  construction  J?  motion  the  constmc- 

...  ^  ,,,j,        ,  ,r.,T,  ^  v.vyxiot,iu.vi;ivxi    tive  principle  m  nature  ? 

of  the  natural  world  to  be  based?   Herbert  Spencer,— detaining  us  a  little  longer  at  s^^"'«^'« 
dynamic-mechanism— in  the  interest  of  materialistic  monism,  answers:   Upon  mo- 
tion! And  motion,  under  the  subtle  proviso  of  "all  things  being  equal,"  always  moves 
in  the  direction  of  the  least  obstruction;  it  everywhere  follows  the  presupposed  req- 
uisites of  centrifugal  and  centripetal  gravitation.    Every  branch  of  a  tree,  the  atti- 


10 


Ziehen  simplifies 
Psychology. 


Every  organism  con- 
sidered as  a  meciianism. 


Teleology  not  to  be  con- 
demned without  trial. 

Purpose  not  to  be 
supplanted  by  mere 
motion. 


MATEKIALISTIC   MONISM;  DYNAMIC  WORLD  VIEW. 


LA.  CH.n.  §3.4. 


Direction  in  tiie  impulse 
immanent  in  the  pro- 
toplasm indicates 
design. 


Purpose  of  the  theory  ot 
affected  "  nesciences." 
It  evidently  intends  to 
get  along  without  the 
■ '  Unknowable  and  the 
"  Hereafter." 


Counterfeit  ethics, 
evolved  from  mollusk- 
life. 


Spiritual  truth — of  ko 

PURPOSE. 


Defenders  of  a 
Christian  world-theory 
in  league  with 
agnosticism 


in  their  mechanical  view 
of  natnre. 


Idealists  siding  with 
asceticism  taking  the 
soul  out  of  nature. 


tude  of  every  flower  proves  this  truth,  says  Spencer.  The  whole  fabric  of  blood-circula- 
lation  substantiates  the  theory  of  "least  resistance."  Science  at  once  is  made  very 
simple.  Ziehen  has  told  us  that  the  whole  story  of  man's  being  can  be  explained  from 
the  structural  and  functionary  components  of  man  himself.  We  do  not  wish  to  find 
fault  with  this  mode  of  generalizing  vegetable,  animal  and  personal  movement  as 
equivalent  phenomena,  under  rubrics  of  mechanical  energies,  which  in  higher  organ- 
isms become  only  more  differentiated  and  intricate.  In  its  limits  and  its  place  we  do 
not  dispute  the  truths  brought  out  by  evolutionism,  if  understood  as  the  unfolding  of 
created  life.  Evolution  in  the  progress  of  its  affiliation  or  thought-filtration  and  with 
dexterously  manipulated  wordings  may  conclude,  that  everything  organic  is  a  mech- 
anism. This  is  not  what  compels  my  organism  to  the  reverse  nerve-action  of  raising 
an  objection.  We  enter  protest  for  the  simple  reason,  that  taking  such  a  view  the 
cognitions  of  type  and  design,  i.  e.,  teleolagy,  are  condemned  without  trial. 

The  doctrine  of  the  purpose  is  not  thus,  on  the  sly,  to  be  replaced  by  that  of  mo- 
tion; we  do  not  allow  this  manner  of  killing  the  purpose  by  silence,  or  forcing  it 
brevi  manu  out  of  recognition. 

The  purpose  has  a  claim  as  yet  upon  admittance  to  the  discussion.  Many  inves- 
tigators find  a  purpose  inherent  in  every  thing,  not  for  itself  alone,  but  for  every  thing 
besides.  I  surmise  a  purpose  in  Spencerian  theories  even,  if  they  possess  any  value 
whatever.  According  to  them  the  development  of  the  species  is  to  be  understood  as 
caused ,  solely  by  external  conditions.  Possibly  organic  life  may  be  rendered 
equal  to  mechanical  force.  Yet  this  could  not  force  us  to  relinquish  our  conviction, 
that  the  first  protoplasm  must  have  been  endowed  with  an  immanent  impulse,  indicating 
some  design  and  prompting  the  unfolding  of  that  protoplasm  in  an  appointed  direction.  We 
would  not  offer  the  least  obstruction  to  motion  as  the  constructive  principle  on  that 
score. 

But  Spencer's  theory,  in  order  to  maintain  itself  and  its  consistency,  must  deny 
both  impulse  and  direction.  Spencer  admits  nothing  but  a  selfconstituted  organic 
mechanism,  evolution  pure  and  simple,  externally  conditioned  by  environments 
which,  of  course,  he  finds  ready  made  for  no  purpose.  This  is  the  long  and  short  of 
it.  This  forbids  the  supposition  of  any  higher  or  deeper  cause  outside  of  things  as  be- 
ing not  only  superfluous  but  also  confounding.  Immanent  design,  the  reason  of 
things  in  themselves  equal  with  their  ultimate  causes  outside  of  them,  and  concom- 
itant with  their  causal  bearings  upon  other  things,  is  denied  for  no  other  reason 
that  I  could  think  of,  but  to  get  along  without  the  * 'Unknowable"  and  the  "Hereaf- 
ter." But  on  this  line  of  cheap  denial,  with  argument  inferred  from  silence,  and  in 
this  cowardly  manner  of  dodging  the  question  at  issue,  science  turns  into  nescience. 

By  "design"  the  followers  of  Spencer  and  Haeckel  understand  "the  emancipaton  of 
the  highest  differentiated  organism"  from  the  necessity  of  the  "Supreme  Good."  That 
a  new  set  of  rules  of  "conduct,"  misnamed  ethics,  had  to  be  promulgated,  so  as  to  «s- 
cort  Materialism  into  respectable  company,  or  to  -fortify  it  with  pilfered  material,  is 
a  tacit  admission  of— the  purpose  for  which  the  system  was  designed.  By  such 
ethics,  evolved  from  the  mollusk,  spiritual  truths  were  to  be  rendered  indifferent  — 
and  of  no  purpose.  It  was  to  hide  the  strategem,  by  which  the  loss  of  the  Good  was  to 
be  kept  out  of  view,  by  which  the  attention  was  to  be  diverted  from  the  manipulation 
of  spiriting  away  the  "Supreme  Good." 

F  ■  -  Will  ethics  of  the  evolutionary  brand  ever  be  able  to  produce,  out  of  matter-motion 
combined  with  sociological  statistics,  any  substitute  for  what  is  thus  treated  with  silent  con- 
tempt in  the  interest  of  "  the  emancipation  of  the  flesh  "  ?  Not  even  a  counterfeit  semblance 
to  it,  if  one  knows  that  genuine  Ethics  means  more  than  rules  for  conventional  conduct. 

Some  people  seem  to  think  that,  because  of  the  conclusions  jumped  at  by  social- 
ists, materialism  had  lost  its  prestige  and  danger.  This  optimism,  however,  looking  a 
little  like  spiritual  affinity  and  sympathy  with  agnosticism,  might  take  advice  to  be 
cautious.  Since  we  see  even  defenders  of  the  Christian  world-theory,  staunch  oppos- 
ers  of  Darwin,  Spencer  and  Haeckel,  cooperating  with  them  unawares,  in  that  they 
propagate  a  mechanical  view  of  nature  themselves,  we  must  engage  somewhat  in  the 
exposure  of  the  errors  of  wrong  spirituality. 

§4.    In  order  to  maintain  the  dignity  of  man,  the  idealists,  siding  with  asceticism, 
take  the  soul  out  of  nature.    They  leave  as  little  free  movement  to  vegetation,  and  as 


I.  A.     CH.  II.  §4.  PROFANATION  OF  NATURE.  11 

few  of  the  psycliical  attributes  as  possible  to  the  animal  kingdom.  Thus  a  wide  sphere 
of  organic  life  is  withheld  from  nature,  in  which  from  an  impetus  given  to  it,  nature 
spontaneously  may  ascend  the  ladder  of  rich  development  and  variation.  The  first 
cause  is  continually  required  for  the  direct  production  of  creative  effects.  The  al- 
mighty power  of  the  Creator  is  deteriorated  into  a  sort  of  world-soul.  When  it  comes  ^TrSes.""""-  *^* 
to  the  definition  of  miracles,  the  observation  that  they  never  are  without  a  natural 
basis,  one  and  all,  is  rendered  suspicious  of  rationalistic  heresy  by  that  school.  In 
other  respects  a  special  manifestation  of  the  divine  will  is  alleged  for  every  particu- 
lar and  simple  phenomenon,  so  that  every  movement  in  nature  becomes  a  miracle; 
hence  the  significance  of  the  miracle  itself  is  lowered  to  an  every-day  affair,  is  made  a 
mere  natural  fact. 

Weiss,  for  instance,  warms  up  occasionalism  in  his  mechanical  presentation  of 
providence  which  flagrantly  profanes  the  miracles  and  Him  of  whom  they  are  to  testi-  wfiss:  chiists  miracles 
fy.    A  doctrine  is  preferred  of  vital  force  being  infused  continually  from  outside  in-  ^""^  "Occasionalism. 
stead  of  attributing  so  much  of  vitality  to  matter,  as  is  necessary  to  make  it  serve 
henceforth  as  the  vehicle  of  that  imparted  principle,  which  is  to  resuscitate  the  dor-  Medieval "  Elementary 

r  r  r      7  spirits. 

mant  or  arrested  life.  These  ever  repeated  lif e-mfusions  are  not  quite  the  same  as  the 
"elementary  (fire,  water,  air,  and  earth)  spirits"  of  mediaeval  speculatists.  The  "spir-  become 'matte^fdentifled 
its"  were  kept  apart  from  the  elements  whilst  the  elementary  substance  was  looked  nöttobe.-'^se'c.ioÄ 
down  upon  as  something  not  only  lifeless  but  opposed  to  life.  Even  their  susceptibil- 
ity for  becoming  vitalised  is  ignored,  their  adaptability  for  glorification  denied.  Mat- 
ter then  remains  to  be  regarded  as  that  which—not  only  in  the  state  of  final  glorification, 
but  also  in  the  present  state  of  existence,  ought  not  to  be.  Matter  is  taken  for  ir- 
rational stuff,  for  a  sedimentary  refuse  without  any  meaning,  as  being  of  no  use,  nor 
of  any  account  whatever,  which  therefore  can  not  and  need  not  be  understood.  The 
latter  sophism— corresponding  with  the  denial  of  the  spirit  by  nescience,  in  the  way 
extremes  generally  meet,— is  made  the  excuse  for  dropping  the  stubborn  thing  as  un- 
worthy of  further  consideration. 

Now  all  this  caution  to  ascribe  as  little  as  possible  to  nature  in  majorem  gloriam 
dei;  this  injunction  as  to  the  relative  independence  of  nature  by  which  it  is  attempt-  Misconception  of  the 
ed  to  restrain  force  to  play  around  matter  like  a  flame  around  a  wick;  this  reluctance  dhTnTpTovidence! 
to  grant  animation  to  nature,  which  nevertheless  continues  ascending  upward  in  the 
physico-psychical  constituency  of  the  human  body,  results  from  misconceptions  of  the 
human  soul  and  of  divine  omnipotence.    It  forms  the  rightful  opposition  of  conserva- 
tive theology  against  pantheism  and  materialism,  both  denying  the  personal,  living 
God.    But  it  betrays,  at  the  same  time,  a  poor  opinion  and  narrow  view  of,  and  little 
faith  in.  Divine  Providence,  as  tho  the  power  of  the  creature  would  detract  part  of  the 
authority  and  honor  of  God,  as  tho  nature  might  become  too  much  for  Providence,  if 
man  and  things  had  a  real  soul  in  common;  or  as  tho  man's  immortality  would  suffer 
under  nature's  participating  in  the  soul.    This  fear  of  irreverence,  or  of  curtailing 
the  almighty  power,  or  of  giving  room  to  pantheistic  inferences  and  imputations,  this  ne"s whe^reTe'extr"^ 
super-cautiousness  is,  what  caused  our  friends  to  meet  with  the  opposite  extreme  in  "iewVÄt'Sre!'*'''*'*^ 
the  mechanical  conception  of  the  moving  and  formative  or  constructive  principle  in 
nature  and  history.   The  dynamic-mechanical  view  cannot,  and  pretends  that  it  needs 
not,  to  know  the  "unknowable."    To  that  view  things  spiritual  are  of  no  purpose ! 
The   pneumatic-mechanical    view  profanes  the  miraculous  and   direct  interventions, 
and  the  purely  spiritual  manifestations  of  divine  condescension  in  the  manner  shown,  matteb  of  no  pübpos«. 
It  cannot  understand  the  good-for-nothing  matter  for  which  at  bottom  there  is  no  use 
—which  is  of  no  purpose  1  „  .  .  ,. 

^       ^  Materialism  and  pan- 

Materialism  and  Pantheism  attribute  divinity  to  nature;  erring  idealism,  a  pSo-slfftuausm  and 
pseudo-spiritualishi  or  asceticism  divests  nature  of  a  life  of  its  own,  that  is,  of  the  capacity  for  orf''c'!'"a^''^lor''^*'*" 
divine  immanency!  divine  immanency. 

It  is  plain;  both  modes  of  speculation,— the  dynamic  and  the  pneumatic  mechani- 
cal, the  one  in  the  interest  of  matter,  the  other  for  the  sake  of  mind— create  each  a 
different  conception  of  history  peculiar  to  itself.  The  views  obtained  from  such  pre- 
occupied standpoints  bear  not  only  upon  the  philosophical  interpretation  of  history^ 
and  upon  all  its  auxiliary  sciences,  but  also  upon  every-day  life. 

Dynamic  contemplation  of  nature  makes  things  purposes  in  themselves  (gold  for 

4 


12 


ORGANIC  LIFE. 


I.  A.  Ch.  m.  §5. 


■"  Dynamics  "  posits  the 
purpose  into  things : 
Gold.     Pneumatic 
"  Mechanics   '  keeps  it 
«ntirely  apart  from 
nature. 


I,i£e  the  constructive 
principle  of  nature. 


Goethk's  suggestion. 

"Mechanical   atomism" 
— individualisation — 
as  well  as   the   cognition 
"  personality  "  and 
"  Ethnographic 
Psychology  "  are  out- 
growths of  Meister 
Eckhard's,  Leibnitz'   and 
Herbabt's  theories. 

Unity  of  the  human 
race  rescued  by  Herbart 
in  "creationisiu,"  and 
by  Leibnitz  in  "  pre. 
established  harmony"  . 
both  transcending  their 
postulates. 


Two  manifestations  of 
created  life:  natural  and 
personal. 

Meaning  of  the  term 
"•rrested-life." 


All  organic  life  is  but 
life  latent  in  matter 
disengaged. 

Storage-batteries  of 
motion  participate  in 
the  "  Niima  mundi  "    in 
its  dormant  state. 


Well  articulated  pulsa- 
tions, magnetic  fluxes 
and  chemical  polarities 
of  sidereal  life  pervade 
the  terrestrial. 

Sec.  2,  21,  27. 


The  essence  which 
renders  nature  a  unitary 
and  nascent  entity. 


instance  or  the  state;  )  i  e.  it  drops  the  purpose.  On  the  part  of  the  mechanics  of 
Occasionalism  facts  and  things  are  underrated  as  nothing  in  themselves  but  mere 
manifestations  of  pre-established  harmony,  or  rather  as  direct  results  of  divine  in- 
tervention in  the  most  trivial  occurrences. 

(Note:  Further  discussion  of  the  topics  of  tliis  chapter  in  1.  A.  ch.  5.  and  on 
purpose  1.  B.  ch.  1.) 

CH.  III.    PERSONAL  AS  DISTINGUISHED  FROM  NATURAL  LIFE. 

§  5.  For  reasons  given,  our  discussion  of  the  constructive  principle  in  nature 
must  begin  with  determining  the  meaning  of  the  word  "life."  The  major  premise 
which  we  take  for  granted  is,  that  life  is  the  totality  of  the  manifold  (tho  no  monas). 

Goethe  already  iu  the  ''Morphology  of  plants  "  saw  the  bearing-  of  this  cognition.  This 
suggestion  may  enable  us  to  conciliate  the  results  of  former  attempts,  such  as  those  of  Male- 
branche  and  Leibnitz,  without  a  lapse  into  onesidedness  or  committing  us  to  ambiguity.  If 
we  are  not  mistaken,  both  sides  call  for  an  adjustment  of  the  truth  which  each  seeks  to  estab- 
lish. It  is  peculiar  that  mechanical  atomism— grown  out  of  Meister  Eckhard's  and  Leibnitz's 
"  individualisation,"  to  which  also  Herbart's  mode  of  thought  gravitates,  and  to  which  we  are 
indebted  for  the  fixing  of  the  idea  of  personality— has  advanced  to  be  formulated  into  "  Eth- 
nographical Psychology."  This  is  a  very  welcome,  new  auxiliary  to  our  science;  and  the  cul- 
tivation of  this  new  specialty  is  indeed  of  singular  significance.  From  the  atomistic  concept 
of  the  soul  as  an  individualised  entity  the  idea  of  a  "national  character,"  of  a  "spirit  of  the 
times,"  much  loss  the  cognition  of  the  unity  of  the  whole  human  family  could  scarcely  have 
been  expected.  That  the  latter  especially  was  maintained,  we  owe  to  the  precaution  which 
made  both,  the  "monad-theory"  of  Leibnitz  as  well  as  the  "creationism"  of  Herbart,  tran- 
scend their  postulates,  the  one  in  "pre-established  harmony,"  the  other  in  "ethnographical 
psychology." 

Speaking  of  created  life,  we  know  of  but  two  manifestations— natural  and  per- 
sonal life. 

Entering  the  domain  of  nature  we  are  ready  to  meet  the  objection,  that  the 
basal  ground  in  which  mind  is  planted,  is  not  to  be  regarded  as  a  substance  with  im- 
manent vital  qualities,  but  as  destitute  of  life,  as  dead  matter. 

Of  course,  since  we  are  accustomed  to  have  movement  implied  in  the  notion 
"life,"  analogous  to  living  creatures,  inorganic  life  can  not  be  called  alive.  Yet  since 
motion  is  the  most  conspicuous  symptom  of  life,  we  can  not  help  calling  the  composi- 
tions and  combinations  of  cosmical  dust  latent  life— life  bound  up  as  it  were,  confined, 
compressed,  retarded,  or  (as  we  will  use  this  term  henceforth  in  this  sense)  arrested  life. 

Organic  life  is  merely  the  life  latent  in  matter  disengaged,  life  set  free— as  we 
use  the  phrase  in  chemistry— life  delivered  from  its  confinement.  For  all  these  rocky 
masses,  forming  the  framework  of  the  globe,  all  the  different  strata,  sediments,  allu- 
vial deposits  and  deluvian  driftings  are  the  store-rooms  for  all  organic  life  spreading 
over  their  surface.  More  than  that,  all  these  massive  storage-batteries  of  motion  act 
as  coefficient  factors  in  all  historic  events.  The  whole  process  of  "becoming"  or  "com- 
ing to"  life,  and  "to  live,"  is  conditioned  by  them.  In  these  dormant  powers  the  "Ani- 
ma  Mundi"  is  lying  asleep,  as  it  were.  If  we  speak  of  spontaneous  growth  of  ani- 
mate nature;  if  natural  phenomena  are  personified  in  paganism,  and  if  ideals  arehy- 
postatised  by  Plato  and  Hegel,  then  more  than  scientific  figures  of  speech,  more  than 
random  poetical  phrases  are  expressed. 

To  take  life  in  this  wider  sense  is  altogether  appropriate.  For,  looking  upon 
these  seeming  "lifeless"  masses,  we  find  them  in  sympathy  and  in  contact  even  with 
the  planetary  system.  We  have  terrestrial  life  partaking  of  the  astral.  Sidereal  life, 
not  as  blind  force  but  in  well-articulated  pulsations,  pervades,  animates  and  agitates 
the  crust  of  our  globe.  Magnetic  fluxes  and  chemical  polarisations  vibrate  through 
the  earth,  causing  it  to  quake  and  men  to  tremble.  Hence  in  this  sense  no  part  of 
the  universe  can  be  imagined  as  void  of  life,  else  it  would  represent  a  nonsense;  it 
would  remain  unintelligible,  irrational  and  purposeless.  But  as  soon  as  the  material 
components  are  conceived  as  confined,  repressed  or  arrested  life,  life  bound  up  like 
lightning  prior  to  its  discharge,  the  cosmos  becomes  intelligible,  becomes  an  individ- 
ual, as  it  were.  Whether  its  fundamental  principle  may  then  be  called  force,  world- 
soul,  law  of  becoming  (Werde-gesetz)  as  Ebrard  termed  the  anima  mundi,  or  what  you 
please,  it  is  a  potential  energy,  a  latent  potency;  it  is  the  nascency  of  nature;  it  is, 
present  and  alive.    It  is  the  essence  that  makes  nature  a  unitary  nascent  entity.    It 


I.  A.  CH.  m.  §  5.  THE  SOUL  INCLUDED  IN  ARRESTED  LIFE.  13 

has  caused  many  a  portentnous  change  in  the  world  -not  in  nature  alone,  but  in  the 
chain  of  personal  life,  in  history.  Where,  for  instance,  would  our  coal  be  gotten  from 
if  it  liad  not  been  for  the  death-struggles  in  which  an  eon  of  existing  organic  life 
expired  ?   And  what  would  civilisation  be  without  coal  ? 

The  choice  of  our  designation  "arrested  life"  will  vindicate  itself  throughout  our 
discussion,  if  it  is  kept  in  mind,  that  in  this  deceased,  dead  matter  the  very  nascency  fn^^^S^iTom^Ä 
lies  dormant,  those  potentialities  which  make  the  plants  grow,  just  as  it  awoke  when  HTM^Afsoü.. 
the  plants  were  called  forth  by  the  command  given  to  the  earth.    This  "dead"  mat-  ^';^!l:tatiB!rthoüghV*' 
ter  conveys  the  very  potentialities  which  restore  health  to  patients,  which  help  to 
build  up  the  animal  body,  and  from  which— the  hnman  soul  arises.    Remember  always  -nebeneinander- 
that  this  world  of  mere  elements,  of  dormant  life  and  objectivised  (Bowen  would  say  -  rneinander." 
hypostatised)  thouglit,  is  to  be  set  free  incessantly  from  the  form  of  a  mere  aggregate 
(nebeneinander);  and  is  to  be  led  up  from  the  state  of  detachment  and  opposition  The^worw  of  objectivised 
(auseinander)  into  the  state  of  pneumatic  immanency  (ineinander).    It  was  on  the  £Ä*state  of  confine- 
suggestion  of  this  truth  that  the  notion  of  "Consubstantiation"  was  discerned  to  have  thr^tateof  pneS""'' 
once  been  rendered  emblematic  in  the  Eucharist.  immanency. 

Nature  is  to  be  delivered  from  her  confinement  or  arrested  state,  so  as  to  enable 
her  to  receive  new  impartations,  and  to  produce,  under  harmonious  cooperation,  a  Sea"centto  «0«^^*" 
condition  in  which  the  created  but  nascent  life  latent  within  her  can  prosper,  pre-  ''°""'  °^ ""'  Te'^gTie. 
paratory  to  a  next  higher  form  of  existence.    Step  by  step  the  same  process  of  deliv- 
erance—after cooperative  preparation  for  receiving  the  impetus  for  the  next  higher 
unfolding  of  life— is  repeated,  life  in  general  always  remaining  intimately  connect- 
ed in  all  its  interrelations,  even  with  the  lower  stages  passed,  in  whatever  shapes  the 
higher  formations  assume;  so  that  even  astral  life  remains  identical  with  the  stars  of 
our  flora.    Thus  developing  life  differs  in  the  degree  of  its  metamorphoses  but  not  in 
essence,  so  that  upon  each  higher  notch  on  the  scale  of  ascendency  each  individual- 
ised or  differentiated  part  of  general  life,  in  connection  and  cooperation  with  the 
whole,  may  become  the  receptacle  of  the  higher  life  that  is  to  come.    This  is  the 
truth  of  evolution  as  far  as  it  goes,  and  several  times  already  we  have  conceded  this 
with  certain  reservations.    This  is  the  truth  underlying  the  inter-relation  between 
natural  development  and  ethical  selfculture,  between  religious  sanctiflcation  and 
resurrection.    In  every  stage  the  individual  entity  is  to  keep  up  the  connection  with 
all  the  preceeding  lower  stages  of  life,  so  that  even  the  earth  is  obliged  to  cooperate  The  truth  underlying 
in  that  preparation,  by  which  the  reception  of,  and  transition  into,  the  highest  forms  anSfcliSuitur" 
of  the  final  state  of  glorified  existence  is  conditioned. 

In  emphasising  the  identity  of  all  created  life,  we  are  well  aware  of  the  purport  identity  of  an  created 
of  the  statement.    We  do  not  discriminate  between  the  animation  of  the  crystal,  the  ^'*^ 
lily,  or  the  ruby-topas  humming-bird,  or  the  brain  of  man  even— with  the  proviso  of 
course,  that  this  connection  of  the  intensified  natural  life  in  the  human  soul  with  life  the  spirit  does  not  be- 
in  general  does  not  include  the  human  spirit,  because  that  does  not  belong  to  the  l.Tgen'^eJaf  n? r^*'*'**° 
realm  of  nature. 

But  the  natural  world  in  its  various  stages  of  delivery  of  formative  life,  from  the 
dust  in  the  street  up  to  the  intensified,  individualised  life  in  the  soul  of  man  at  the 
zenith  of  natural  animation,  this  whole  royal  road  of  modification  and  elevation,  in- 
cluding the  galaxy  of  fixed  stars  and  the  crown  of  queen  Victoria— we  deliberately 
consider  as  a  oneness  in  substance  and  essence. 

Nature  is  life  in  its  entirety,  a  subsisting  reality,  manifesting  itself  in  countless  Natural  life  as  " 
self  developing  formations,— images,— which  represent  the  alphabet  of  God's  imprint-  1?  *mak  Sul'' *^*' 

ed   manifesto.  belongs  to  nature. 

We  termed  the  one,  the  inorganic  part  of  the  visible  world,  compressed,  "arrest- 
ed" life.  And  now  we  assume  the  right  of  designating  the  whole  animate]  world, 
from  the  crystal  to  the  human  soul  inclusive,  as  such  "arrested"  or  retarded  life, 
which  from  stage  to  stage  is  to  be  delivered  from  the  confinement,  awaiting  its  eleva-  sphere  of  "arrested  mb.* 
tion  to  its  next  higher  sphere.  This  allegation  may  seem  audacious,  extremely  para- 
doxical, but  we  warrant  due  explanation  and  are  confident  of  general  consent. 

It  must  suflice  for  the  present  to  be  only  reminded  of  the  other  great  enigma  ^^ 

•^  o  o  Tjjg  combination  of 

which  hovers  about  all  physical  and  ethical  phenomena  in  this  world,  which  is  unin-  «pi"*  and  soui  is  intel- 
ligible only  to  those 

telligible  to  minds  as  yet  in  the  lower  state  and  which  become  intelligible  only  to  having  passed  into  the 

.  .  „  o  »  sphere  of  pure  God- 

those  having  passed  into  the  sphere  of  pure  God-consciousness.  consciousness. 


14 


DIVERSITY  IN  UNITY. 


i.  A.  ch.  m.  §  6. 


The  "  irrational  some- 
thing "  reaching  from 
another  world  into  this. 


Sphebe  of  pkbsokal  life: 


Natural  self -develop- 
ment reaches  its  acme  ii 
the  human  soul,  then 
ceases.     Sec.  9.— It  is 
arresetd  on  account  of 
man,  whose  task  it  be- 
comes to  redeem  the 
confined  life  of  nature. 


Soul  separable  from  the 
body    but  inseparably 
subjoined  to  the  spirit — 
in  their  union  consti- 
tuting 

THE   MIND. 


Unification  between 
spirit  and  soul  indis-  _ 
soluble,  tho  the  soul  is 
to  perpetuate  its  jiexus 
with  nature. 


"  Ethical  cosmos  im- 
manent in  the  physical. 
Each  a  unit  per  se. 


In  the  world  of  tran- 
siency— sphere  below 
personal  life— nothing 
has  a  purpose  in  itself: 
the  final  {purpose  of  all 
was  man. 


In  the  world  of  per- 
sonality and  permanency 
— history  proper — each 
unit  has  a  purpose  in 
himself. 


Nature  is  the  world  of 
"  Material  UNITY  vndek 

FORMAL  DIVERSITY." 


History  deals  with  the 
world  of 

"  FORMAL  UNITY  UNKEB 
MATERIAL  DIVER.SITY." 

There  ne-cessity, 
heie  freedom. 


And  need  we  be  reminded  of  that  irrational  something,  which  from  the  "spirit-land," 
called  the  other  world,  reaches  into  the  kingdom  of  the  human  mind,  ever  instigating  turbu- 
lence which  as  yet  will  give  us  much  to  think  of  ?— -and  which  will  remain  unintelligible  until  it 
comes  in  contact  with  embodied  holiness. 

§  6.  At  this  instant  we  enter  the  new  sphere  previously  hinted  at,  the  workl  of  the 
human  mind— personal  life.  We  enter  at  that  moment  where  the  acme  of  evolution 
and  ripeness,  demonstrating  the  oneness  of  natural  life,  is  reached  in  the  human 
soul. 

At  this  stage  nature  ceases  its  conditional  self  development.  Natural  life  is  ar- 
rested. Man  has  to  take  up  the  task  of  influencing  nature  and  of  elevating  its  life, 
that  is,  redeeming  that  natural  life  which  became  arrested  on  his  account. 

We  speak  now  of  the  human  soul  as  mind,  in  which  we  meet  the  personal  spirit, 
coming  as  a  new  endowment  from  above,  long  before  Pentecost.  This  spirit  takes 
possession  of  that  soul  which  evolved  from  below,  coexisting  and  consubstantial  with 
the  body. 

That  soul  had  become  the  inner,  the  liberated  and  intensified  life  of  nature,  sep- 
arable, but  as  yet  not  disengaged,  from  material  life.  This  soul  is  still  confined  life 
but  now  in  that  form  of  natural  existence,  wherein  nature  accomplished  her  prepara- 
tion for  entertaining  the  spirit.  This  intensified  and  individualised  unit  of  natural 
life,  the  humanised  soul  is  coessential  if  not  consubstantial  with  the  body.  Separ- 
able from  it,  yet  without  severing  its  connection  with  the  totality  of  physical  exist- 
ence, this  soul  is  subjoined  to  the  new,  the  other  oneness  or  totality  of  the  spirit. 
The  monas  "Nature,"  by  its  representative,  by  proxy  as  it  were,  through  its  highest  or 
most  intensified  essence,  the  human  soul,  enters  with  the  "Spirit  into  an  indissoluble" 
union  in  man. 

At  the  moment  of  the  impartation  of  this  higher  life  the  natural  part  is  in  the 
passive  or  receptive  mood,  the  «spirit  alone  being  active. 

The  natural  part,  the  soul,  now  becomes  mind,  or  rather  to  say :  personal  life,  in 
contrast  to  the  monas  or  unit  of  natural  life  in  its  generalness  with  which  it  is  to  per- 
petuate its  nexus,  nevertheless.  We  now  observe  a  spiritual  nature  sui  generis. 
With  "human  mind"  we  have  the  cognition  of  a  world  of  embodied  spirits,  a  very  sub- 
stantial and  concrete  spiritual  world.  W^e  have,  in  fact,  aside  and  above  and  within 
the  complex  of  the  natural  cosmos  another  well  organised  system,  the  embodiment  of 
an  ethical  cosmos. 

But  this  latter  is  an  entirely  different,  a  unique  world  in  itself.  It  is  the  world 
of  history  proper,  the  world  of  permanency. 

Yonder  the  ocean,  metaphorically  speaking,  where  the  single  waves  are  nothing 
but  emerging  and  submerging  transient  appearances,  always  part  of  the  whole,  never 
becoming  something  in  or  for  themselves.  For  in  the  world  of  transiency  in  that 
world  below,  including  personal  life,  nothing  "had  a  purpose  in  itself;  everything  was 
intended  for  something  else;  the  final  purpose  of  all  was  man  alone. 

In  the  personal  world,  now,  each  unit  has  a  purpose  in  itself.  Here  we  are  in  the 
sphere  where  each  spiritual  unit  is  qualified  to  assert  itself,  where  it  is  relatively  in- 
dependent inasmuch  as  everybody  is  an  individual  which  may  possess  or— lose  itself; 
may  appropriate  the  universe  to  its  mind,  or  may  give  itself  up  to  nature  and  become 
absorbed  by  it.  Every  one  is  somebody  in  himself,  who,  regardless  of  something  else 
or  of  the  whole,  possesses  a  value  on  his  own  account. 

In  the  lower  sphere  we  had  an  essential,  material  unit,  wherein  the  single  entitles  are 
but  formally  different.  In  the  world  of  personal  life  we  find  a  formal  unity  in  which  the 
individuals  maintain  material  selfhood.  Hence  in  the  natural  world  material  unity  un- 
der formal  diversity;  while  the  spiritual  world  of  personal  life  consists  of  formal  un- 
ity under  material  diversity. 

There  a  world  under  sway  of  necessity  and  generalness;  here  personality  asserts 
itself  and  freedom  reigns,— two  worlds  essentially  different 

Thus  a  Mending  of  dualistic  existence  is  achieved,  a  fact  which  we  substantiate 
by  empirics.  It  only  remains  for  us  now  to  observe  what  kind  of  phenomena  become 
manifest  in  both  worlds.  Each  has  a  great  deal  in  common  with  the  otlier  on  ac- 
count of  their  unification  in  personal  life—a  few  things  they  cannot  have  in  common 
according  to  the  nature  of  the  spheres  to  which  these  phenomena  severally  belong. 


I.  A.  Ch.  III.  §  7.  PHYSICAL  ANALOGIES.  15 

§  7.    What  are  sueli  analogous  forms,  the  so  called  "physical  analogies,"  in  which 
the  utterances  of  both  worlds  are  alike?    Both,  natural  and  personal  life  are  ruled  by  «p„vs,c:al  anai.ooies": 
the  same  principles  of  polarity,  as  for  instance  sympathy  and  antipathy,  manifesting  Ät™ wo^ws;  each 
themselves  in  tlie  affinities  of  minds,  just  as  much  as  in  the  affinities  of  chemicals.  In^IhS  LTucTL  are 
Upon  the  theatre  of  either  world  the  powerful  laws  of  attraction  and  repulsion,  of  ad-  ^"oHdreacV^rocedur?^ 
hesion  and  expansion  are  enacted.    We  speak  of  accumulation  and  concentration,  of  ll^pl"^, ""  ^^^'"^^ 
assimilation,  digestion,  circulation  and  decay  in  a  mental  as  well  as  in  the  physical 
sense.    We  speak  of  exhaustion,  restoration  and  propagation,  of  losses  and  gains  in 
the  same  way,~each  the  reflection  of  analogous  and  congruous  processes  in   the 
world  opposite  to,  yet  immanent  in  either  one,  each  with  reference  to  the  ethical  pur- 
port of  tlie  procedure.    It  is  just  along  the  line  of  these  analogies  in  which  that  pre- 
paration of  the  lower  part  of  personal  life  is  tobe  accomplished,  which  conditions  the  in  the  transactions  of 
reception  of  higher  life-infusions,  and  the  transition  of  natural  into  spiritual  forms  nat^raulrcumstances 
of  existence.    In  the  transactions  of  personal  life  natural  circumstances  find  their  Jurpos^es'.'^  ^"^' 
final  purposes  furnishing  in  the  meanwhile  the  material  for  building  up  the  ethical 
ascent. 

In  both  worlds,  the  natural  and  the  moral,  we  have  the  same  laws  of  growth  with 
its  refinement,  thrift  and  improvement;  or  of  obstruction,  retardation  and  death— ac-  gr';^rr/'of'both*'woridL 
cording  to    the  use   or  abuse    of    faculties,    according   to    the    attention   paid 
to   opportunities   or   their   neglect.      In   both    the    same     effects    of     repeated 
actions   upon     formations,    developments    and    deformities    of    habits,  opinions, 
fashions,  characters.   In  both  the  same  demand  for  either  freedom  from  embarrass- 
ment or  for  the  necessity  of  compulsion;  the  demand  of  system,  of  discipline;  the  same 
perils  of  becoming  crippled;  the  same  sufferings  of  separation  and  deprivation,  and 
the  same  participations  in  merits  or  reverses,  because  of  the  solidarity  of  interests  or 
default  of  mutual  obligations.    In  both  spheres  the  energies  are  either  augmented  or 
become  inert  under  almost  the  same  conditions.    As  it  frequently  occurs  in  nature 
that  homogeneous  masses  consolidating  gain  force  with  dimensions  or  intensity,  so 
thought  increases  to  become  an  idea  of  overwhelming  and  almost  irresistible  power 
in  proportion  to  the  enlistment  of  new  enthusiasts.    On  the  other  hand,  we  find  in  Sin  filphS*''^ 
both  spheres  increasing  indolence  and  inefficiency  from  neglecting  or  suspending  or    ^"  ^'  ^'  ft^gf^iifn?' 
suppressing  the  exercise  of  organs  or  faculties;  from  lack  of  concentrated  and  deter- 
mined effort;  or  from  deficient  encouragement,  cooperation  or  discipline.   It  is  aston-  Participation  in  deserts 
ishing  to  find  the  same  causes  of  diminishing  vitality  to  the  point  of  exhaustion, when-  t    *«  •         * 

A-      1    I-  £  Tx-  J    T  XI  1  X      .    X    .      Inefficiency  from 

ever  the  delivery  from  conditions  and  laws  occurs  prematurely,  when  restraint  is  neglected  or  sup- 
removed  or  support  withdrawn,  or  when  accustomed  relations  are  abruptly  changed.  Sf  TacuittS^*'^^^ 

Diminishing  vitality 

To  an  observer  there  is  nothing  new  in  all  this;  only  we  seldom  apply  such  congruitiesto  under  premature  de- 
sociological  problems.    While  posing  on  conservatism,  we  make  a  virtue  of  laziness  and  show  co^ndftion™  *^*  *" 
apathy  to  progressiveness  by  doing  all  to  obstruct  it,  or  else  abuse  it  in  heedless  or  danger-   insight  into  such  con- 
ous  experiments.    Rise  and  decline  of  states,  eruptions  and  subjections  among  peoples,  owe  gruities  too  seldom  ap- 
their  effects  to  th3  same  polarities  which  regulate  tension  and  equipoise  in  nations  as  well  as  pro1bieuis.°'^'°  °^"^* 
in  nature. 

In  this  connection  of  nature  and  spirit  by  virtue  of  personal  life  we  see  the  reci-  Reciprocity,  and 
procity  between  natural  and  moral  laws,  and  their  yalidity  and  objective  authority  ity^^f  ^nltura^^^" 

revealed.  »"d  moral  law. 

Recognizing  the  union  of  nature  and  spirit  in  this  light  elicits  the  much  debated  ^bif  ^Jj^jor  ^char- 
cognition  of  "duty."    This  union  of  body  and  mind  in  man  implies  that  both  have  to  acter  of  "duty," 
take  care  of  each  other  under  the  penalty  of  separation,  called  death.    Solely  from  Sy7n JVroiÄe- *^* 
this  task  of  maintaining  and  cultivating  the  unification.  Ethics  can  deduce  the  first  in  the  human  soul^ 
principle  of  duty. 

It  was  upon  this  plain  axiom  that  Dorner  at  last  succeeded  in  demonstrating  the 
objectivity  of  duty  and  in  establishing  its  obligatory  character  beyond  controversy. 
We  here  see  how  natural  law  executes  retribution  in  order  to  maintain  the  authority 
of  the  moral  laws,  in  order  to  keep  up  the  conditions  under  which  alone  higher  life  Physical  and  ethicai 
can  be  received.    We  see  how  and  why  all  law  is  one,  and  why  the  physical  and  eth-  Sawha'rmonue  in 

.,.,.„.,  ,  sr     ^  stimulating  the  recep- 

ical  manifestations  or  the  same  are  harmonious  in  their  intention  to  stimulate  suscep-  «^'ty  for "  the  Good." 

,.,.,.„,,  »OJi  ,  ^  DrUMMOND,  SCHELLING, 

tibility  tor  the  higher  girts,  to  create  the  desire  for  the  Absolute  Good,  and  to  set  the  schleirmacheb. 
will  free  to  acquiesce  in  the  necessity  of  that  good. 


16 


SPIBITUAL  ENTITY  WITHOUT  NATURAL  ANALOGIES. 


I.  A.  Ch.  m.  §  7. 


The  analogies 
prove  the  adapta- 
bility and  resi- 
proeity  of  the 
two  worlds; 

but  also  cause  the  ap- 
pearance as  if  spirit  and 
matter  were  identical. 


prove  the  inde- 
pendency of  the 
spiritual  unit  as 
against  natural 
generalness. 

Phenomena  pertaining 
to  the  superior  world 
alone  without  any 
physical  analogy 

Physical  analogies  de- 
signed for  ethical  de- 
velopment. 


Grades  of  dis- 
tinctness of 
analogies 


prove  that  the  natural 
processes  transpire 

only  for  ethical 
purposes. 


Union  consummated  ; 
nature  spiritually  ap- 
propriated: illustrated 
by  the  instrument,  its 
plaj'er,  and  the 
symphony. 

Examples  of  purely 
spiritual  manifestations 
pertaining  to  the   world 
of  "  formal  unity  exclu- 
sively; Sec.  6. 


and  which  require  the 
exercise  of  individual 
virtue. 


Societies  can  not  possess 
a  conscience  nor  love 
etc. 


Drummond  for  the  first  time  called  public  attention  to  this  congruity  of  the  natural  law 
with— he  ought  not  to  have  said  "  in  "—the  spiritual  world.  Bvit  Butler  had  long  before  him 
shown  the  way.  Schleiermacher  and  Schelliiig  had  glimpses  of  this  great  concurrence,  so  that 
now  the  ground  for  a  more  systematic  exhibition  of  its  interaction  is  explorable. 

Altho  (for  reasons  just  given)  we  insist  upon  the  essential  difference  between 
the  two  worlds  of  created  life,  natural  and  spiritual,  as  focused  in  man;  yet  in  refer- 
ence to  the  circumstances  conditioning  all  earthly  life,  those  facts  occur,  which  offer 
such  striking  resemblances  as  are  enumerated  above,  and  prove  the  mutual  adapta- 
bility, tlie  interactive  reciprocity  and  prospective  unification  of  the  two  worlds;  but 
which  are  also  apt  to  make  nature  and  spirit  to  appear  identical. 

Here  a  wide  field  invites  explorers ;  here  lie  the  secrets  and  stand  the  puzzles  of  statis- 
tics. In  view  of  the  duality  and  the  analogies  ensuing,  the  meaning  of  philosophical  terms 
must  be  cleared  and  fixed,  where  so  many  definitions  need  to  be  revised.  From  this,  our 
dualistie  standpoint,  the  truths  in  the  systems  of  Kant,  Fichte,  Schelling  and  Hegel  can 
easily  be  appreciated,  sifted  from  their  errors,  and  reconstructed. 

Here  also  the  independency  of  the  spiritual  world  in  its  unity  can  be  proved 
as  against  natural  generalness. 

For,  a  few  phenomena  distinctly  belong  to  the  superior  world  alone,  such  as  de- 
cidedly refuse  to  be  mixed  with  nature,  and  offer  no  natural  analogy. 

The  similarities  arising  from  the  analogous  processes  going  on  in  the  combina- 
tion of  matter  and  mind  within  the  personal  soul  on  the  scope  of  ethical  designs,  be- 
come more  distinct  in  a  measure  as  the  faculties  and  functions  of  the  spiritual  side  of 
personal  life— being  of  specific  spiritual  quality— alone  come  into  play  and  act  free 
from  physical  encumbrances.  The  analogies  diminish  in  proportion  as  those  processes, 
in  which  the  union  of  higher  forms  of  rational  with  natural  life,  and  also  the  union 
of  moral  and  religious  ingredients,  approach  completion. 

The  analogies  disappear  altogether,  where  the  distinctions  between  natural  and 
spiritual  functions  are  perfectly  overt,  or  where  the  natural  functions  are  entirely 
under  the  control  of  consciousness— that  is  under  control  of  feeling,  intellect  and 
will  in  their  harmonious  cooperation— so  that  botli,  mind  and  matter,  embrace  each 
other  in  normal  exchange  of  liberty  and  in  mutual  appreciation,  nature  being  conse- 
crated and  the  spirit  predominant.  This  consummated,  complete  unification  may  be 
illustrated  by  the  relation  between  the  instrument,  its  player  and  the  symphony 
touching  other  minds. 

Such  purely  spiritual  manifestations  are  those  which  concern  the  "world  of  for- 
mal unity  under  material  multiplicity"  exclusively. 

As  examples  of  such  entities  we  may  mention  thought,  intuition  and  language, 
conscience  and  obedience,  faith  and  character,  genius  and  honor,  justice  and  grace- 
in  short  all  such  factors  which  require  the  ethical  cultivation  of  each  individual  for 
itself.  Associations  do  not  possess  them  in  such  a  way  as  to  answer  for  their  con- 
stituent members. 

Hence  we  must  not  be  disappointed  at  finding  out,  for  instance,  that  a  "trust"  or 
company  of  consolidated  interests  can  have  no  conscience,  no  love.  Neither  must  such  be  ex- 
pected of  the  empiric  Church.  Of  love  and  liberty  in  the  Christian  sense  nature  scarcely  pos- 
sesses the  faintest  foreshadowing.  Whatever  semblances  thereof  may  be  adduced  are  so  faint 
that  reason  of  itself  was  not  able  to  gather  them  into  coherent  concepts.  Unspiritual  people 
mistake  meekness  for  weakness.  The  masses  can  do  no  thinking ;  to  this  task  man  individ- 
ually was  assigned  and  is  to  accomodate  himself. 

The  pious  mother  can  not  leave  her  virtue  to  her  children  by  way  of  heritage.  The 
pastor  can  not  create  faith  nor  convert  his  hearers,  neither  can  he  rent  out  his  conscience  to 
his  parishoners  in  order  to  afford  relief  or  excuse  to  the  consciences  of  his  flock. 

Art,  science,  liberty,  honor,  right,  friendship  are  such  of  the  good  things  in  which 
similarities  between  natural  and  spiritual  interactions  are  yet  to  be  found  in  a  meas- 
ure, because  in  them  the  unification  is  as  yet  in  the  process  of  becoming  accom- 
plished—they being  intended  to  become  individual  property.  The  mind  must  appro- 
priate them  to  itself  in  the  process  of  spiritualising  nature  by  way  of  performing  its 
ethical  task.  Hence  provision  was  made  that  these  mixed  goods  with  their  natural 
and  spiritual  aptitudes  for  each  other  could  not  be  bought  and  sold  as  long  as  the  ar- 
ticle is  genuine.  Here  the  equality  of  all  men  has  its  limits.  Here  also  lies  the 
cause  why  religion  can  not  be  disparaged  and  allowed  to  become  a  matter  of  state  or 
any  government,  it  being  intended  for  the  service  of  God  alone  in  spirit  and  in  truth. 


I.  A.  Ch.  m.  §  8.     PROMISCUOUS  USE  OF  TERMS  FOR  ANALOGOUS  PROCESSES.  17 

§8.  Personal  life,  i.  e.,  soul  and  spirit  representing  each  its  particular  world  in 
their  union,  must  remain,  however,  in  contact  with  all  earthly  relations,  in  which 
alone  the  ethical  task  can  be  performed.  Ethical  task  to  be 

For  the  sake  of  their  common  ethical  purposes  their  existence  is  separably  but  accomplished 
intimately  conjoined  to,  and  conditioned  by,  the  natural  world.    Hence  the  congruity  and^mmd  fiAheir 
of  laws  and  developments  spoken  of.    From  the  rejection  of  this  dualism  in  our  exis-  ""^^ "^^\  f •  f ^ ^ 
tence— from  the  prejudices  of  a  monistic  world-theory,  attempting  at  all  hazards  to  mind 

argue  away  the  reality  of  either  matter  or  mind— all  that  confusion  has  sprung  up  remaining  in 
which  impairs  insight  and  judgment  with  regard  to  true  self  knowledge,  God— and  eartilfy  rehitions. 

world-consciousness.  Hence  the^antyies.  ^^^" 

From  want  of  discretion  of  what  is  to  be  kept  separate  in  theorising,  and  what  is 

,      ,,  -  -  .,,  .,  .         J ,  .       Indiscrimination  regard- 

to  be  applicable  as  common  to  both  worlds— or  as  we  will  rather  say  now  m  this  ing  them  is  the  cause  of 

,,,  .JJ1  -in-  many  mischievous 

sense,  to  both  spheres— many  blunders  committed,  many  pseudo-syllogisms  are  occa-  paralogisms. 

"^         .  ,         .     ,  Sec.  10.  11,  70. 

sioned  and  paralogisms  perpetuated. 

We  need  not  wonder  that,  in  the  American   phraseology  the  shades  of  meaning  between  Examples  of 
the  words  "culture"  and  "civilisation"  are  as  yet  controversial.    We  deem  it  necessary  to  use  terms  promiscu- 
•culture"  in  the  European  sense  which  implies  agriculture,  that  is,  elevation  of  nature,  im-  *^y^J^5"f2^*^9"  jgg  139 
proving  the  environments ;  and  to  use  "civilisation"  in  the  sense  of  advanced  humanitarianism,  ....  ^g^, 

i.  e.  Christianised  culture  on  the  basis  of  Ethics,   which   in  turn    signifies   a    higher   than  culture-clvilisation, 
"moral"  philosophy.    We  take  Montezuma's  empire  for  a  state  of  high  Cultuke,  but  without 
civilised   citizenship  which  can  not  be  cultivated  upon  any  other  basis  than  that  of  the 
Chkistian  Cultus.    a  similar  discretion  should  abandon  the  promiscuous  use  of  the  term 
■liberty."    This  noun  indicates  the  more  natural  or  politico-social  condition  of  personal  life  Liberty—freedom^^  ^^^ 
in  distinction  from  "freedom,"  which  applies  to  the  purely  spiritual  mode  of  being,  entirely 
above  the  sphere  of  natural  necessity— in  the  way  we  distinguish  the  "liberty"  of  the  press 
from  the  "freedom"  of  conscience.    In  like  manner  the  word  "intuition"  ought  to  be  left  at 
variance  no  longer.    "Intuition"  certainly  conveys  the  idea  of  immediate  comprehension  by 
the  spiritual  side  of  consciousness,  the  counterpart  to  that  which  we  understand  by  "instinct"  ^^*J?g'^°''~p^sitPi^'*^'^ 
in  purely  natural  beings ;  hence  intuition  should  not  be  used  where  reflection  upon  sense-per-   natural  "  instinct;  " 
ceptions  is  implied  as  the  chief  source  of  knowing. 

It  is  for  such  a  mixed  mode  of  conceiving  and  reasoning  concerning  the  relations  between  g^^j  ^.^^^  reason, 
the  natural  and  spiritual  functions  of  the  mind,  that  the  differences  between  "soul",  "mind" 
and  "spirit"  are  so  little  understood;  only  thus  can  it  be  explained,  that  the  English  language 
has  no  adequate  term  for  "Vernunft",  which  neither  of  the  terms  mind  nor  reason  (Verstand)   Vernunft  is  not 
will  cover.    Since  reason  must  be  ascribed  to  animals,   it  is  vitiating  to  translate  Kant's  veTstand— but 
"Vernunft"  with  "reason."  Verstand  i.e.  reasoning  or  Comparing  iNTEliLECT,  understanding,  intellect. 
pertains  to  the  natural— Vernunft,  i.  e.  Intuitive  Intellect  to  the  ethico-spiritual  sphere  of 
personal  life  alone.   Mind  would  perhaps  come  nearest  to  Vernunft,  if  this  word  were  not  so 
vaguely  used,  not  only  when  we  speak  of  intellectual  but  also  of  emotional  and  imaginative 
phenomena  of  our  inner  life.    To  the  word  mind  we  have  assigned  a  definite  cognition  al-   Our  use  of  the  term 
ready,  since  we  use  the  term  to  convey  the  very  same  synthetical  thought  expressed  in  the  "{.ove^'^^"  ^^    ^  margin 
phrase  "personal  life." 

On  similar  grounds  we  need  not  become  confused  in  regard  to  religion,  when  one  is  Blunders 
said  to  have  become  insane  from  religion,  as  the  heavenly  influence— for  other  dare  not  be  re-  from  misapprehending 

,      .  ,       ,  ,.  ,  .,,,  ^     J,  c      J.  .the  relations  between 

cognised  as  being  religious,— had  any  thing  to  do  with  the  derangement  ot  an  untortunate  soul  and  spirit. 
soul :    notwithstanding  the  "religious  insanity,"  of  which  some  scientists  are  pleased  to  speak.  Religious  insanity. 
We  need  not  wonder  that  some  withdraw  from  the  "  world,"  in  order  to  lead  a  spiritual  life,  World 
and  are  usually  none  the  less  conquered  by  worldliness.  Such  religious  separatists  and  orders,  jn  the  sense  of 
pretending  to  conform  their  conduct  to  celestial  patterns,  are  not  aware,  that  "  conduct " 
means  just  that  execution  of  our  obligations  to  both  of  the  spheres  to  which  we  are  related, 
and  that  this  conduct  becomes  impossible  unless  we  remain  in  proper  contact  and  concur- 
rence with  the  world  of  tasks  and  duties.    Dogmaticians,  in  more  than  one  system  have  sacri-  Freedom  of  the 
ficed  the  freedom  of  the  will  entirely  to  the  natural  component  of  man  to  the  point  of  denying  will, 
it  altogether.    As  yet  the  doctrines  about  conscience,  about  its  independency,  its  unreliability  Conscience, 
or  its  infallibility,  whether  it  is  an  original  capability,  or  merely  a  psychical  mood,  are  in 
such  entanglement  that  Bestmann  found  forty -three,  often  widely  diverging  definitions  of 
conscience — just  because  of  the  indiscriminated  or  misapprehended  relations  under  discussion. 
The  confusion  and  difficulties  in  discerning  these  relations  was  taken  advantage  of  by  Spencer 
in  the  upbuilding  of  his  ethics  upon  the  basis  of,  and  from  data  in,  mollusk-life.    Such  dis-       ^  ^    ^  ^^ 
crepancies  will  always  be  at  the  bottom,  where,  as  we  say,  "  extremes  meet."  Sec.  4,  8, 10, 11, 17, 87,89, 

All  this  certainly  demonstrates  the  necessity  of  clear  discernment  with  respect  to 
the  relations  between  soul  and  spirit  in  the  functions  of  the  mind,  and  with  respect 
to  the  relations  of  each  on  its  part  to  either  the  physical  world  or  the  spiritual.  The 
distinction  is  easy  as  soon  as  it  becomes  manifest,  which  side  preponderates  in  this 
concurrent  interaction. 

It  is  true,  matter  and  mind,  when  it  comes  to  practical  life,  are  so  intrinsically 
interwoven,  and, when  it  comes  to  theorising,the  confusion  seems  so  inextricable  that 


18 


THE  SOUL  OF  THE  SOUL. 


I.  A.  Ch.  III.  §  8 


Discrimination 
so  difficult  as  to 
lead  many  to  the 
denial  of  the 
spirit. 


still  greater  difficulties 
on  account  of  the 
mysteries  of  the  world 
of  formal  unity 


Spiritistic  deceptions. 


Forfeiture  of  the  right 
to  argue  against  the 
spiritual  realities. 


Dual  relationship 
of  the  spirit : 

only  one  side  involved  in 
earthly  conditions. 


Soul  of  our  soul 

is  tlie  side.of  the  spirit 
■which  by  embracing  the 
soul  participates  in 
planetary  life. 

The  other  purely 
spiritual  side  re- 
mains in  direct 
contact  with  its 
native  realm ; 

while  in  touch  with  the 
mind  hlso  announces  its 
presence  in  feeling; 

transcends  earthly 
confines ;  is  not  subject 
to  accidentals  of  the 
natural  part  of  personal 
life; 


not  even  that  side 
of  which  we  are 
conscious  is 
subject  to 
space  and  time. 


Polar  tension,  caused  by 
the  duality  of  the 
spirit's  relations, 
renders  spiritual  things 
perceptible  of  which 
otherwise  we  could  have 
no  idea. 
Fichte  jb;  Dobseb. 


Integral  relations  of  the 
component  parts  of 
personal  life  focused  in 
the 

HEABT. 


Existence  of  the 
spirit  our  axiom. 

Empiric  proof  for  those 
indications  of  duality 
in  the  human  spirit  to  be 
gathered  in. 

Sec.  9,  10,  109. 


our  conception  of  the  matter  may  seem  a  delusion  to  some,  while  to  many  others  the 
nonexistence  of  the  sj)irit  is  a  forgone  conclusion. 

In'  controversies  of  this  kind  an  additional  fact,  fraught  with  still  greater  diffi- 
culties, was  overlooked,  if  not  frequently  intentionally  misrepresented,  viz :  that  the 
essence  and  the  effects  of  personal  life  are  never  to  be  made  fully  intelligible  scien- 
tifically from  what  one  perceives  of  it. 

There  are  mysterious  phenomena  coming  forth  from  the  spiritual  world— to 
which  «very  human  soul  stands  connected  by  virtue  of  its  spiritual  component  that 
inseparably  belongs  to  the  sphere  of  "formal  unity"— which  are  often  willfully  ig- 
nored or  trifled  with.  Spiritism  went  to  great  lengths  in  making  these  mysteries 
ignominious.  Only  the  deceptions  of  spiritism  are  at  fault  for  disbelieving 
the  reality  and  objectivity  of  such  occurrences  It  is  in  the  nature  of  things  that  life 
stupifies  man  from  becoming  acquainted  with  them,  thus,  of  course,  forfeiting  the 
right  to  argue  against  their  reality,  as  in  the  case  of  music,  justice,  love,  truth, 
beauty — Heaven. 

Many  psychical  phenomena,  not  to  be  ascertained  scientifically,  but  neither  to  be 
explained  away,  give  evidence  that  the  spiritual  side  of  our  being  is  involved  in  the 
earthly  conditions  only  so  far,  as  it  must,  through  its  connection  with  the  soul,  par- 
take of  the  mode  of  planetary  existence. 

This  is  that  innermost  part  of  our  mind,  the  soul  of  our  soul,  through  which  the 
mind  becomes  conscious  of  itself,  upon  which  only  thus  we  are  able  to  reflect,  which 
we  are  apt  to  identify  with  the  physical  nature  of  our  soul. 

The  other,  probably  the  principal  part,  keeping  up  the  connection  with  the  spir- 
itual realm  of  unity,  is  not  directly  exposed  to  the  rough  handling  of  an  epistemo- 
logical  vivisection,  because  it  should  not  be  jeopardised  to  a  complete  spoliation. 

This  part  is  that  primary  and  pure  spirituality,  whicli  controls,  we  might  say 
possesses  us  by  force  of  the  feeling  peculiar  to  it;  which  announces  its  presence 
within  the  soul,  whilst  at  the  same  time  it  remains  in  touch  and  communication 
with  the  world  of  permanency  and  reality;  and  which  by  far  transcends  all  the 
earthly  confines  into  which  it  did  not,  but  conditionally  wants  to,  enter  entirely.  It 
is  not  subject  to  nature  nor  to  the  accidentals  of  the  natural  part  of  personal  life. 
Thus  the  unit  or  "oneness"  of  our  innermost  mind,  the  human  spirit,  consists  of  two 
sides.  We  can  not  call  them  parts,  because  this  section  of  the  world  of  unity  is  in- 
separable; and  because  one  side  only  as  far  as  influenced  by  the  soul,  is  in  relation 
with,  but  not  even  m  this  relation  subject  to,  space  and  time. 

The  one  side  is  purely  spiritual,  let  us  say  pneumatic:  the  other  psychico-spiritu- 
al.  Only  the  latter  is  in  contact  with  the  lower  world,  whilst  the  former  alone  is  in 
touch  with  the  spiritual  world,  of  which  otherwise  we  would  not  have  the  faintest 
idea— both  sides  nevertheless  continuing  their  inseparable  unity,  rapport  and  sympa- 
thy. And  only  by  the  tension  of  this  polarity,  agitating  the  two  sides  of  the  human 
soul,  this  divine  substance  or  essence  of  our  being — of  which  we  become  clearly  con- 
scious on  rare  occasions— becomes  more  or  less  perceptible. 

After  Fichte  Jr.  in  his  "Anthropology"  Dorner  has  also  in  his  "Ethics"  conclusively 
shown  the  correctness  of  this  binary  concept  of  the  human  spirit.  A  consistent 
method  then,  of  explaining  the  duplex  relativity  of  personal  life  has  been  gained  by 
metaphysical  deductions  and  inferences,  despite  their  rejection  as  untrustworthy  by 
many  empiricists.  Now  since  we  can  compare  the  cognitions  thus  derived  with 
psychical  experiences,  wliich  could  be  understood  in  no  other  way, — we  make  the  exis- 
tence of  this  spirit  axiomatic  in  our  world-tlieory.  This  spirit  added  to  the  physico- 
psycliical  soul— called  psyche,  inasmuch  as  a  part  of  natural  life  in  general,  is  now 
embraced,  penetrated,  and  animated  by  the  spirit — makes  man  a  "living  soul";  both 
united  constitute  the  individual,  i.  e.  indivisible  mind,  and  are  focused  in  the  "heart." 

Thus  personal  life,  in  one  respect,  sustains  close  inter-relations  witli  all  eartlily 
conditions;  in  the  other  it  excels  the  visible  world  by  virtue  of  its  native  dignity, 
freedom  and  continuity. 

How  this  human  mind  can  maintain  or  lose  this  position  may  be  made  approxi- 
mately-certain from  many  indications  which  have  to  be  gathered  up  as  we  proceed. 


I.  A.  Ch.  m.  §  8.  9.    DUAL  CONNECTIONS  OF  BOTH  SOUL  AND  SPIRIT.  19 

At  this  point  and  for  tlie  present  tlie  statement  must  suflnce,  that  the  freedom  of 
the  will,  the  toiicli  of  conscience  preceding  a  wrone  aet  and  tlie  facts  of  divination  Understanding  of 
t'(mld  not  be  made  intelligible,  but  for  this  supposition  of  the  spiritual  partner  of  the  suUconsciousness 
soul,  and  of  its  binary  existence.    To  simply  push  aside  these  and  many  other  mani-  "^ser.^lf/aTVm.nÄi. 
testations  of  "unreflected  or  sub-consciousness,"  explicable  in  no  other  way,  or  worse 
yet,  to  store  them  into  the  lumberroom  of  hallucinations,  could  certainly  not  be  con- 
sidered a  scientific  operation. 

Furthermore,  under  this  proposition  alone  are  we  justified  to  discriminate  be- 
tween personal  and  natural,  psychical  and  pneumatical  life,  between  matter  and 
mind;  only  under  this  proposition  can  we  account  for  the  similarity  of  physical  and 
moral  advances  and  relapses  spoken  of  in  §7. 

So  much  depends  on  the  acceptance  and  proof  of  our  as  yet  hypothetical  proposi- 
tion—tlie  dualistic  aspect  of  the  human  mind  and  of  the  binary  mode  of  existence 
of  the  spirit  —that  only  thus  we  are  enabled  to  form  a  correct    idea  of  that  po- 
larity, which  yields  the  only  probability  of  escaping  erroneous  views  of  either  Monism  JJj^ggc^^j^'f^V^^^*^ 
or  Dualism.    Upon  the  force  of  this  argument  alone  can  we  account  for  the  wealth  Monism  and  erro- 
and  corresponding  responsibilities  of  real  life;  can  we  reason  about  and  meditate  »«^us  Dualism, 
upon  the  profundity,  the  sources  and  the  prospects  of  spiritual  and  future  life,  con- 
cerning which  we  experience  so  many  indications.  The  polarity  between 

....  .  .         .  «  »         natural  and  spiritual 

Unless  the  investigator  is  given  concession  to  set  up  this  premise  in  the  form  of  a  i^fe. 
probability  at  least,  science  has  no  right  to  dispute  our  right  of  emphasising  that 
polarity  by  which  the  world  is  urged  on  in  the  aspiration  to  ethical  value.    But  if  owing  to  which 
our  axiomatic  proposition  proves  correct,  then  that  polarity  stands  confirmed,  which  polarity  the 
is  the  main  support  of  the  identity  of  moral  and  natural  law,and  of  the  natural  coun-  Executes ^tiie 
teraction  against  moral  abnormities;  then  that  polarity,  resting  on  a  dual  form  of  ^oraUaw^-  *^^ 
existence  must  be  acknowledged  as  the  cardinal  principle  of  all  cosmical  existence, 
which  finds  its  final  counterpoise  in  man. 

The  existence  of  the  spirit  we  have  announced  as  an  axiom;  we  feel  justified  to  princSTie'^ofarcosmicai 
render  its  dual  mode  of  existence  axiomatic  too,  under  promise,  that  due  aflirmations  '''^'^^'"'^■ 
shall  be  adduced  presently,  so  that  of  this  legitimate  position  we  may  take  full  posses- 

a-jz-v-j-j  Dual  mode  of  existence 

The  duality  of  the  world  in  our  sense,  as  manifested  in  the  historical  union  of  piomatfc: 
personal  life,  will  enable  us  to  comprehend  and  to  delineate  the  biology,  as  it  were,  biology  of  history 
of  universal  history.  is  delineated. 

The  aflirmations  drawn  from  empirics  of  what  Ethics  deducts  logically,  namely 

i.  xt.         ,   .       X.     -o^  1  -x         «       ,         .       1  1      X,   .       .    1  ,  .,  .  .  RETROSPECT 

of  the  objectivity  and  congruity  or  physical  and  ethical  law,  make  our  position  im- 
pregnable. 

Our  inductive  introspect  will  become  the  more  useful  as  it  throws  light  upon  our 
retrospect.  It  affords  new  illustrations  of  the  truth  that  life  as  such  enters  from  on 
high  at  every  transitory  stage  of  advancing  development.  In  the  ideal  concept  of 
.man's  composition  we  found  the  reason  for  the  formation  of  nature  as  it  is.  In  man 
the  whole  of  creation  reached  its  purpose.  The  world  is  made  for  his  sake,  intended  ^^«''1  «°°^^*J^;*  °* 
to  become  his  possession,  designed  as  the  place  where— for  reasons  of  the  necessity  of 
the  Supreme  Good  and  its  attainability— the  ethical  task  is  to  be  worked  out.    Man  is  see.  se. 

the  mediator  of  creation,  the  self  development  of  which  stopped  on  his  account.    The  uspürpose*"'^*  ""^^"^^^ 
arrested  life  of  which  he  therefore  has  to  redeem.    His  superority  was  projected  in,  Man  the  mediator  and 
and  foreshadowed  through,  and  postulated  by  nature,  its  successive  grades  of  develop-  '*''^««'""  ''^  "''*"'^ 
ment  prophesying  his  advent.    The  creature  is  formed,  so  to  speak,  after  the  image  of  creatures  beiow  man 
man  (analogous  to  the  creation  of  man  in  and  for  the  image  of  God.)    Thus  nature  ^«1^."**'"^  ^""^  *°'  ^'^ 
does  neither  emanate  out  of  God,  nor  does  life  evolve  from  below.    It  is  handed  down.       ^'"'-  ^^'  ^^'  Ho;  \l\'. 

Mineral  does  not  spontaneously  create  organic  life;  the  "word"  called  it  forth  af-  g^nesisof  hi  her 
ter  it  had  been  "thought"  of.    The  earth— in  accord  with  the  thought  which  it  con-  grades  in  natural 
veyed,  that  is,  the  purpose  for  which  it  was  conceived  and  which  is  contained  in  it,  Jn^sto  marked  by 
and  in  accord  with  the  preparations  made  by  it,—  was  enabled  to  receive  the  word,  '"'"'=^^' 
and  to  answer  its  command. 

The  result  of  this  impartation  of  the  word  was  the  generation  of  a  new  form  of  Generation  of  organic 
life;  spermiation  of  organic  life.  The  concept  being  communicated  to  nature  became  Suniuuicrtiorof"  ^^' 
the  generative  conception.  The  birth  of  the  first  life-germ,  set  free  from  the  life  con-  ^"^  thought. 
fined  in  inorganic  matter  or  the  address— is  a  miracle. 


w 


APPARATUS  TO  SET  FREE  PERSONAL  LIFE. 


I.  A.  Ch.  III.  §  8.  9. 


"  Let  there  be  ! " 

calls  forth  a  new  order 
of  life;  spontaneous 
spermiation:  a 

XIBACLK. 

More  than  this: 

WORD 

means  the 

ACT  of  inbreathing  a  new 

kind  of  life^lnto  man. 

Soul  the  acme 
and  epitome  of 
nature. 

Sec.  10,  13,  15,  115,  131. 

This  passage  from 
animal  to  ratio-moral 
life  through  a 

MISACLE. 

The  rule  for  all 
natural  develop- 
ment is  valid  in, 
and  conditions 
all  moral 
advance. 

Sec.  5,  6,  20,  24,  35,  109, 
,     116,  117,  118,  177,  220. 

preparatory  to  the 
reception  of  still 
higher  gifts. 


Universal 
revelation 

to  be  accepted  before 
special  revelation  can 
be  appreciated. 

Sec.  90,  114. 


By  necessity  of  the 
Supreme  Good  the 
incipient  endowments 
of  the  person  are  set 
free. 


The  apparatus 
for  the  moral 
task  of  self- 
cultivation. 

Sec.  7,  35,  .39,  109, 
117,  159. 

Inner  endowments  are 
gifts  from  God ; 
external  opportunities 
furnished  by  the  world. 

In  the  system  of  the 
apparatus,  and  in  the 
method  of  working  at  it, 

the  laws  which 
conditioned  all 
previous  develop- 
ment are  still  in 
force. 

Sec.  7,  19,  24,  109,  116. 


Conditions  of 
development ; 

Sac.  35,  39,  60,  116. 


The  organic  world  in  its  turn  does  not  in  its  passage  to  mental  life,  of  itself  rami- 
fy and  multiply  in  an  entirely  fortuitous  manner. 

The  inbreathing  of  life  into  the  first  man  was  more  than  the  utterance  of  the 
word:  "Let  there  be!"  Man's  creation  was  the  result  of  a  special  consultation,  with 
Which  an  act  was  connected.  The  instantaneous  impartation  of  supernatural  life 
resulted  in  a  new  species  of  generic  life  It  was  an  animation  far  different  from 
any  former  elevation  in  the  prior  department  of  organic  nature,  of  arrested  life.  Out 
of  mere  natural  organic  life,— altho  it  furnishes  the  organic  matter  upon  which  the 
new  creature's  life  is  to  subsist,— rational  life  can  not  be  expounded.  The  first  mani- 
festation of  personal  in  contrast  to  animal  life  answering  an  act  —is  a  miracle. 

Spiritual,  i.  e.  mental,  personal  life  denotes  a  new  departure,  conditioned  by  the 
lower  stage  where  life  had  become  endowed  with  the  capability  to  prepare  itself  for 
becoming  engrafted  with  a  higher  animation.  Personal  nature,  having  inherited  all 
the  accomplishments  of  the  former  stages  together  with  the  results  of  their  coopera- 
tion, and  having  been  equipped  with  new  endowments  in  addition,  is  now  to  use  all 
of  these  acquirements  in  preparing  itself  for  a  next  higher  communication.  Man 
has,  at  the  least,  to  preserve  his  susceptibility  for  it,  if  he  does  not  improve  his  recep- 
tivity for'  the  impartation  of  the  higlier  gift. 

Receptivity,  cooperation,  and  selfpreparatlon  in  the  lower  stages  are  always  required 
for  receiving  the  impartation  of  higher  principles.  This  is  the  rule  in  all  natural  and  all 
historical  development.  The  impartation  of  higher  endowments  at  each  essential 
notch  in  the  scale  of  ascending  gradation  is  a  miracle,  intelligible  only  after  man 
himself  has  graduated  from  the  lower  classes  of  natural  life  to  the  High  school  of  a 
new  spirituality.  Unless  the  lessons  of  universal  revelation  ensuing  from  creation 
receive  due  attention,  man  can  not  pass  to  the  class  where  special  revelation  is  to  be 
comprehended. 

With  rational  life  moral  development  begins,  based  on  the  endowment  of  divine 
gifts.  This  further  development  originates  under  the  rule  and  command  of  the  only, 
but  supreme  necessity  by  which  potential,  elective  volition  is  set  free;  it  proceeds  under 
the  educational  discipline  of  warning  by  which  potential  conscience  is  set  free,  the 
feeling  and  judgment  of  value;  it  proceeds  under  encouraging  promises— given  to 
strengthen  human  nature  against  the  allurements  of  wrong  valuation  and  of  a  brib- 
ed judgment  trying  to  fill  the  heart  with  rank  desires,  and  tempt  it  to  neglect  the 
obtainment  of  the  Supreme  Good  through  which  independence  from  nature  and  respon- 
sibility are  set  free. 

Thus,  encouraged  to  determine  himself  for  the  good,  and  amply  provided  with 
discouragement  to  do  wrong,  man  is  guided  on  to  self  culture.  We  recognise  the  out- 
fit for  a  still  higher  attainment  under  condition  of  preserving  all  this  freedom  and 
selfhood,  by  which  condition  personality  is  dignified  and  set  free. 

The  apparatus  given  for  the  moral  task  is  well  adapted  for  assisting  in  spiritual 
advance^gratia  praeveniens. 

Now  the  self  cultivation  of  harmonious  development  and  control  of  nature  (man's 
own  nature  in  the  first  place)  is  to  be  persevered  in  and  accomplished.  The  moral  task, 
then,  consists  in  man's  proper  conduct  toward  creation  and  the  Creator.  The  en- 
dowments, the  capacities  and  gifts,  come  from  God:  the  opportunities  for  their  proper 
appliance  are  given  in  the  world.  The  gifts  internally  and  the  chances  externally, 
constitute  the  moral  apparatus,  set  up  to  practice  thereon  the  salutary  work  of  self- 
culture.  In  tlie  system  of  this  assigned  task  and  in  the  method  of  working  the  ap- 
paratus we  see  the  conditions  for  development  in  the  previous  state,  i.  e.  in  the 
natural  world,— we  see  the  natural  law,  the  one  law  aiming  at  the  preservation  of  the 
Supreme  Good  for  the  benefit  of  all  men,  the  law  which  pervades  the  whole  fabric  of 
development  still  in  force. 

For,  altho  we  are  now  in  the  sphere  of  freedom,  the  final  attainment,  namely  par- 
taking of  the  highest  good— is  not  and  never  was  intended  to  be,  unconditional. 

§9.  We  repeat  the  reasonable  conditions  governing  the  moral  as  well  as  all  nat- 
ural development,  of  the  means  and  results  of  which  nothing  is  abandoned  on  eixter- 
ing  a  higher  state.  The  conditions  now  are  as  ever :  cooperation;  preparation;  self- 
preservation;  conduct  with  creatures  and  the  Creator;  that  is  preserving  at  least,  if 


I.  A.  Ch.  III.  §  9.  STAGES  OF  DEVELOPMENT:  MIRACLES.  21 

not  promoting,  the  capability  of  receiving  something  better.    In  the  endeavor  to  ful-  from  iife  confined  in 
fill  the  conditions,  men  will  be  engaged  in  cultivating  the  susceptibility  for  that  "3" uf"  bj""  ^ 
guidance  which,  by  way  of  chances  or  opportunities  opened  in  the  world,  leads  up  to  3 r personal  me 


the  grand  reception.    These  are  the  requisites  for  the  next  higher  state,  for  which  a»,  act 


through 

development  is  to  be  set  free  from  its  nature-bound  state.    Man  is  called  to  rise  above 
mere  natural-moral  culture,  where  he,  perhaps,  busies  himself  with  the  improvement  «ifThosi  go^"  *^^ 
of  environments,  whilst  neglecting  his  own— into  civilisation,  where  a  new  spiritual  ^  ®  ^® 
relationship  and  religious  selfconsciousness  are  to  become  his  recreation,  his  comfort 

,--.,,  and  receptivity  for  it 

and  delight.  tested 

The  pledge  assuring  the  obtainability  of  the  best  gift  and  highest  good,  quicken-  insplrationf 
ing  a  hoping  and  trusting  susceptibility;  and  the  test  at  the  same  time,  proving  Man  to  preserve  snscep- 
whether  the  quality  of  the  Supreme  Good  is  appreciated,  and  whether  the  receptivity  of!'andto''cuitS''*''"' 
for  it  has  been  preserved,  is— inspiration,  with  which  the  cultivation  of  religion  s-TproVneVjoo°d  *yn,orai 
proper,  i.  e.,  the  development  of  civilisation,  begins.    This  mode  of  communication  is  Sate  under' the 
evidently  chosen  on  account  of  the  nature  and  disciplinary  intent  of  the  Supreme  natural  law. 
Good,  which  thus  alone  could  be  shielded  against  deterioration  and  profanation,  and  communication  of  the 
preserved  for  the  benefit  of  all  men.    Hence  such  communication  by  the  word  first  first,  analogous  to 
(analogous  to  the  first  and  universal  revelation  in  creation)  can  be  granted  to  those  only  ^'elrlluZT^gs^nio 
who  have  properly  practiced  on  the  apparatus  set  up  for  natural  culture,  that  is  to  ^'*''- 
such  as  have  seized  those  opportunities  brought  forth,  and  have  cultivated  the  men-  "^Thou^shait" 
tal  and  moral  faculties  set  free  from  their  potential  state  through  the  command :  «f  vaiue/anVsrifhood"^ 

"  Thou  Shalt  ! "  Genesis  of  higher 

To  such  only  the  gift  of  higher  impulses  is  to  be  extended,  who  acknowledge  f/S?raf development 
themselves  under  the  dispensation  of  the  Law!  ma?kod'by "'"'''' 

The  preparation  thus  inaugurated  for  religio-ethical  advance  is  just  as  reasona-  ^^J^^f^  ^^*  ^^ 
ble  as  that  required  for  the  prior  state  of  mere  physico-moral  culture.    The  new  con- 
dition enjoined  rather  corresponds  to,  than  that  it  should  be  found  at  variance  with,  ^"^^"'xHTLTi. 
the  rule  of  natural  law  of  selfdevelopment  in  evolution.    Still,  participation  in  this  special 
special  revelation— although  well  founded  in  the  nature  of  all  concerned,  in  the  whole  revelation, 
system  of  obtaining  the  best  life  imaginable,  as  well  as  in  the  nature  of  the  desidera- 
tum itself,  and  altho  an  act  not  without  an  empiric  basis — is  to  natural-minded  men 
shunning  the  preparatory  task— a  miracle.  Definition  of 

By  those  who  participate  in  inspiration  it  is  easily  comprehended.    But  smaller  religiousness, 
grows  the  circle  of  those  who  remain  under  the  discipline  that  sharpens  recepti\ity,  1?^^'"*''^°''  ***  ^'^'''^ 
preparatory  to  a  still  higher  communication  and  impartation.    This  circumstance,  a^^i^g^^,  ^^  ^y^^ 
rather  hastens  and  prepares,  than  prevents  the  great  advent  in  the  fulness  of  time,  creation  of  the  first 

*="  man,  the  miracle  or 

Religiousness,  i.  e.,  receptivity  for  the  impartation  of  divine  life  in  substance  (analo»  incarnation. 
sous  to  the  first  creation  of  man  by  an  act,  not  by  a  mere  command  as  in  the  case  of  the  pr^es'sure' 
lower  creatures)  ripens  under  pressure  of  misery  I   It  becomes  intensified.   It  lives  on      ^'^    ' 
promises,  lives  in  the  dispensation  of  the  Gospel.    It  comprehends,  embraces  the  fact.  ^''^^"iHETosfE.. 
For  at  that  instant  the  world's  attention  is  called  to  "the"  man :  "Ecce  Homo !"  "  ecce  homo  !" 

His  appearance  was  not  unexpected,  not  unconditional,  not  without  the  natural  Last  stage  of 
substratum,  and  with  no  ostentation.    He  merely  made  known  how  the  human  being  ihYuui'ma'te  goai. 
is  really  constituted,  and  what  his  moral  task  is,  showing  it  by  example,  and  simplify- 
ing the  apparatus.    Still,— the  miracle. 

One  more  manifestation  of,  and  elevation  into,  a  higher  state  is  to  be  experienced  higti^e  moraTÄ'^*" 
and  does  not  surprise  those  who  have  perceived  "man"  as  having  ascended  into  it  al-  hence  sht^cing  owiga- 

VQQrlv  tions  so  much  the  less 

redUy.  excusable, 

But  easy  and  sweet  as  the  moral  task  has  been  made,  and  freely  as  the  means  and 
opportunities  for  its  accomplishment  have  been  vouchsafed:  those  can  not  believe 
themselves  included  wlio  worked  obstructively  and  helped  to  scatter  by  merely 
standing  idle,  instead  of  keeping  the  natural  law  of  cooperation;  who,  instead  of  pre- 
paring themselves  by  practicing  on  the  apparatus,  turn  their  backs  to  it  with  con-  *"^di«on\*"*^ohiTir*  ** 
tempt;  who    inadvertently,  perhaps,    are   in  sympathy    with   those    who   cried:  t^ose  crying        ^ 

«i^  •*     I««  CBUCIFY  ! 

HjrUClf  y !  the  more  amazing. 

Least  of  all  can  the  highest  state  be  entered  into  unconditionally.  The  laws  of 
all  the  preceding  spheres  are  still  valid;  the  apparatus,  altho  simplified,  still  stands 
on  the  plane  of  preparation  for  the  last  transition. 


22 


The  cross;  standing  for 
the  ethical  apparatus, 
symbolises 

Sec.  98,  142,  210. 


the 

pressure  neces- 
sary to  intensify 
relig'iousness 


and  for  the  develop- 
ment to  the  state  of 
glory. 


Tension  betw. 

flesh  and  spirit 

to  continue  between  a 
redeemed  and  a  lost 
world. 

Resume: 

Duality  of  life 
finds  its  synthesis 
in  man. 


Only  following  the  old 
advice  "  know  thyself  " 
will  solve  the  sevenfold 
riddle. 


Reconstruct  Anthro- 
pology on  ethical 
grounds. 


Neither  monistic  nor 

monastic  views  of  life 

can  bridge  the  chasm 

between 

matter  and  mind. 


APPARATUS  AND  GOAL  OF  DEVELOPMENT. 


I.  A.  Ch.  m.  §  9. 


The  star,  the  stable,  lily  and  sparrow,  the  storm-tossed  ship  and  the  great  calm,  the  fish 
and  the  fishermen,  oil  and  wine,  barley-bread  and  farmer,  shepherd  and  warrior,  Caesar  and 
carpenter,  weaver  and  lawyer,  banker  and  beggar,  leper  and  Lazarus  are  parts  of  the  appa- 
ratus ;  temple  and  rampart,  sword  and  dice,  manger  and  tombstone,  sweat  and  blood  and 
prayer,  and  "  the  tree,"  are  all  rendered  instrumental  and  significant  in  the  development 
toward  the  final  glorification  thus  inaugurated. 

But  this  will  not  ensue  well  for  such  as  show  disdain  or  indiflPerence  to  the  meaning 
which  the  apparatus  bears  on  redemption,  who  treat  the  oit'er  with  feigned  innocence  or 
unconcern,  if  they  do  not  reject  it  with  rank  hatred— miraculous,  such  a  monstrosity  of 
perverseness. 

The  spheres  of  a  happy  completion  can  not  be  reached  by  trying  to  evade  the 
cross,  that  is,  not  without  the  sorrows  caused  by  the  tension  between  the  flesh  and 
spirit  in  wliich  piety  is  tested  and  the  entire  person  purified— or  else  rendered  ob- 
durate;  not  without  tliat  pressure  which  ever  intensifies  religiousness.  This  con- 
centration, to  which  all  history  tends,  as  we  shall  verify,  is  the  point  from  which 
spiritual-mindedness  will  expand  again  toward  the  periphery  of  liumanity  in  general, 
toward  that  transition  to  glory  which  includes  the  globe  if  not  the  sun.  Until  then 
we  stand  under  the  tension  of  the  polarity  of  the  two  worlds  which  is  said  to  con- 
tinue between  a  redeemed  and  a— lost  world. 

The  duality  of  life  upon  which  we  are  agreed,  finds  its  synthesis  in  man.  Him 
we  could  not  understand  unless  taken  as  the  intermediate  agent  between  the 
material  and  the  spiritual  world,  as  the  focus  of  natural  and  spiritual  life.  Natural 
life  can  only  be  understood  under  the  aspect  of  its  intrinsic  connection  within  man. 

We  accept  the  conclusion  obtained  by  our  introspective  analysis,  that  man  be- 
longs to  two  worlds,  and  that  the  appropriation  and  elevation  of  the  lower  by  the 
liigher  will  prevail  in  a  glorious  realisation  of  all  purposes.  The  movements  of  the 
formative  or  constructive  and  of  the  material  coeöicients  meet  in  man.  The  lines  of 
observation  converge  in  the  human  being,  bringing  to  view  the  combination  in  his 
being  along  with  the  apparatus  and  the  task  performed  by  which  the  goal 
of  his  true  life  is  obtained. 

Science  nevertheless  has  to  confess  its  inability  to  fathom  man's  dual  constitu- 
tion in  its  whole  depth.  Before  natural  knowledge  as  yet  stands  the  old,  old  advice: 
"Know  Thyself!" — stands  the  man  as  the  sevenfold  compound  riddle. 

There  is  no  other  help  but  revision  of  our  Anthropology,  or  rather  a  reconstruc- 
tion of  it  on  ethical  grounds.  A  monistic  analysis  of  the  nerves  and  their  ends  will 
not  discover  the  bridge  between  matter  and  mind.  Nor  will  monastic  contempt  of 
nature  bridge  the  chasm  by  tearing  down  the  spans  already  spru  ng  on  both  sides. 
The  indefatigableness,  however,  with  which  science  nevertheless  endeavored  to  con- 
struct the  bridge,  testifies  to  and  admits  of  the  certainty,  that  the  bridge  is  to  be 
found  in  man.  It  is  only  necessary  to  go  one  step  further  and  take  man  in  the 
broad  compass  with  all  that  really  belongs  to  him. 


Natural  science  in  re- 
gard to  human  nature 
not  natural  enough. 


Metaphysics  formerly 
treated  of  scarcely  any- 
thing but  the  mental 
faculties. 


Ethics  grapples  with  the 
dualistic  problem. 

Philology  alone 
adduces 

empiric  data  the 
utterances  of 
both  worlds. 


CH.  4.-MAN  THE  SYNTHESIS  OF  MATTER  AND  MIND. 

§  10.  Physical  science,claiming  to  embrace  the  sum  total  of  the  knowledge  of  nature^ 
can  not  but  yield  a  materialistic  world-theory,  unless  it  takes  in  the  whole  man  and 
relinquishes  the  aversion  against  the  supernatural.  We  find  that  it  hesitates  to  do 
this.  We  have  intimated  why  we  judge  physical  science  to  be  not  natural  enough. 
Metaphysics,  pretending  to  furnish  a  thorough  cognition  of  life,  did  not  pay  sufiicient 
attention  to  mind  as  a  whole,  being  chiefly  concerned  with  the  intellect  alone,  and 
has  only  formulated  a  multifarious  and  shadowy  monistic  idealism. 

Ethics  was  compelled  to  be  in  earnest  with  the  dualistic  condition  outlined  in 
the  preceding  sections.  It  comprises  both,  nature  and  spirit,  under  the  aspect  of 
human  destiny;  it  conciliates  the  binary  sides  of  dualism  and  shows  to  antliropology, 
how  the  bridge  over  the  chasm  is  to  be  founded  not  upon  mere  thinking  but  upon  doing, 
and  that  it  is  built  in  the  real  person  of  the  ideal  man. 

But  after  all,  it  is  Philology,  which  possesses  the  empirical  data  in  the  utterances 
of  both  worlds.  Language  signalises  the  fact  tliat  man  is  the  scion  of  both  worlds; 
his  language  hoards  up  the  results  of  their  potential  unification  whicli  in  and  through 
him  is  to  be  consummated.  Here,  in  language,  must  be  sought,  and  will  alone  be 
found,  the  key  for  disclosing  the  problems  involved. 


T.  A.     Ch.  IV.  §  10.  MAN'S  BEING  ON  TRIAL.  23 

"Is  not  the  trial  of  man,  for  reasons  of  his  own  constituency,  that  is,  because  of  his  ^^Id  beÄh^bTr  of 
conscience  and  of  his  retentive  and  reproductive  memory,  to  be  conducted  upon  the  j^;^^;/^- 
open  forum  of  history?"    Lazarus,  thus  formulating  the  problem  at  our  hands,  is 
certainly  correct.    Before  this,  the  only  competent  tribunal,  issue  is  actually  joined 
and  the  taking  of  testimony,  examination  and  crossexamination  of  witnesses  in  trial 
of  the  cause  of  humanity  upon  its  merits  is  going  on  as  before  a  court.    This  consists  ^ 

of  the  judge  duly  authorised  and  of  the  jury  properly  impaneled.     To  them  the  case 
is  given  and  between  them  the  trial  is  continued  when  all  the  evidence  is  in  as  to 
empirical  facts  and  perceptible  data.    This  corresponds  with  our  inductive  part  of  by  induction  and 
the  investigation,  which  has  now  to  stand  the  test  of  deduction  or  vice  versa.     Upon 
the  analytical  follows  the  synthetical  treatment  of  the  points  at  issue,  wherein  farülijufy' 
neither  the  law  arising  from  the  facts  and  applied  in  the  judge's  charge,  nor  the  facts 
belonging  to  the  jury  must  be  lost  sight  of.    Thus  all  the  pleadings  and  proofs  under- 
go a  twofold  review,  so  that  upon  inductive  grounds  the  verdict  is  to  be  found  by  the 
deliberation  of  the  jurors  as  directed  by  the  deductive  information  of  the  judge.     That 
is,  induction  and  deduction  harmonised  are  to  establish  truth  and  right,  and  to  vindi- 
cate the  justness  of  the  judgment.    Nothing  less  must  be  the  rule  under  which  the  ^^^Jnt^^'.^^u^^^^ 
suit  is  to  proceed  in  the  Philosophy  of  History;  else  her  claims  upon  the  recognition  „e^estlai'wlrid''^^*' 
of  her  legitimacy  would  have  to  be  quashed.    Law  abstracted  from  facts,  and  evidence 
weighed  in  the  scales  of  equity  must  decide  even  her  case.    Man's  being  is  rooted  in 
the  elementary  world.    Vigorous  yet  most  tender  organs  tie  him  to  the  world  of  sen-  ^^^  represents  the 
suous  perception;  but  his  crown  lies  in  the  transcendental,  invisible  world.    In  a  l^'^tFErs"**"'"^' 
straight  line,  like  a  flame,  his  life  rises  out  of  mysterious  depths,  and  differentiates     s«'=  »- 1^,  is,  ne,  232. 
itself  into  a  multiplicity  of  rational  and  moral  relations  which  increase  as  civilisa- 
tion advances. 

,.    ,  -  ,,.  .,  ,.,.  ,.,,  ,  no.i/v.v  Nature  is  man  potential; 

With  reference  to  his  cosmical  conditions,  man  (in  the  words  of  Steffens)  repre-  man  by  virtue  of 
sents  the  truths  contained  in  nature.  The  individualisations  of  nature  delineate  and  prllxistence  in 
prophesy  him,  aspiring  to  meet  and  to  culminate  in  him.    With  the  personal  life  of  nature, 
man  the  goal  and  purpose  of  nature  is  reached;  nature  here  in  the  human  mind,  mtureis 
solemnises  her  nuptials  with  the  spirit,  her  sabbath-day.  Up  to  that  point  nature  was  *^egS"*Yn1ts 
man  potential,  man  had  not  come  to  himself  as  yet.    Nature  was  the  natural  "ego"  state  of 
in  its  preexistence,  as  it  were;  it  is  the  altruistic  state  of  the  ego,  which  is  tantamount  the  non-ego  of  Fichte. 
to  the  "non-ego"  of  Fichte.    This  was  the  truth  of  "Pan-anthropism,"  as  it  might  be  "'pan-^thrfpism.- 
called,  which  hovered  about  the  mind  of  Hegel. 

In  the  human  soul  we  behold  the  totality  of  cosmical  nature  mirrored  because  it  ^^^^^  ^^ui  the 


is  the  epitome  of  the  universe;  but  in  this  revelation  of  the  universal  homogeneity,  th^pJrifnot'inc'iii'deT' 
in  the  physical  correspondency  between  type  and  antitypes,  the  spiritual  part  of  man     s«*=-  ^-  ^^^  ^^'  "^'  "^• 
is  not  included.  We  emphatically  maintain  our  essential  proposition  of  the  independ- 
ency of  the  spirit  as  the  representative  of  that  oneness  in  the  other  form  of  existence, 
the  world  on  high.    The  spirit  in  contrast  to  nature  and  to  the  soul,  nature's  con- 
trast, is  independent  from  nature,  is  above  space  and  time,  is  seifexistent. 

Philosophy  owes  the  establishment  of  this  truth  to  Herbart,  viz:  that  the  spirit  is 
an  ontogenous  entity,  that  is,  not  a  manifestation  of  being  in  its  general  form  (which  spirit  an  ontogenous 

entity  sui  generis.  ^ 

is  the  soul)— but  formal,  i.  e.  personal  being.    Spirit  is  an  entity  sui  generis,  is  not  hkebaei. 
the  manifestation  or  hypostatisation,  not  the  mere  gradually  modified  qualification, 
of  the  developed  soul  of  Rothe.    But  this  spirit  takes  the  soul  into  partnership  as  in 
sacred  wedlock  in  order  to  elevate  it  to  its  own  sphere,  thus  generating  the  physical 
incipiencies,  peculiar  to  the  human  mind.    Natural  man  is  thereby  enabled  to  occupy 
the  intermediating  position  assigned  him  by  his  relations  to  both  units,  the  physical 
and  the  psycho  -spiritual  orb.    On  the  part  of  nature  man  is  to  become  the  net  result, 
the  flower  and  crown  of  nature,  to  represent  all  its  essence  as  displayed  in  the  The  spirit  appropriates 
psychical  aptitudes.    On  the  part  of  the  spirit,  establishing  its  union  with  the  soul  of  the  «ower  l^d'cVoy^  of 
nature  as  individualised  in  man,  he  is  to  act  (as  the  representative  of  both  the  great  ''^*"'^* 
spiritual  and  the  material  units  of  Heaven,  and  the  physical  worlds)  in  the  upbuild- 
ing of  an  ethical  within  this  natural  cosmos. 


Is  not  the  modified 

soul  of 

Roths. 


24 


LANGUAGE  REVEALS  MAN'S  SPIRITUAL  NATURE. 


I.  A.  ch.  IV.  §  la 


Spirit  represents  the 
world  of  formal  unity 

Sec.  6. 
the  ethical  cosmos  in  the 
physical. 


Lang-uage  the 
repository  of  all 
the  sciences, 

the  divide  and  at  the 
same  time  the  juncture 
of  both  worlds, 


sjnnbolising  the 
concinnity  of 
body  and  mind; 
of  heaven  and  earth. 

Sec.  HI,  115. 


Language  prior  to 
nations,  not  the  creator 
of  nationalities. 

SCHELLINO, 

W.  V .  Humboldt. 

National  characteristics 
create  the  languages, 
not  vice  versa. 


Genesis  of  language. 


Abandoned  notions  as  to 
its  origin. 


Immediate  conceptions 
of  relations  and  things 

became — by  thinking  in 
pictures 

and  by  referring  all  to 
the  deity- 
stereotyped  signs,  the 
understanding  of  which 
was  lost. 

M.  Muklleb's  tracing 
lingual  affiliations. 

Aegyptian  picture- 
language. 
BscescB. 


Descent  of 
language  from 
the  "world  of 
formal  unity  " 
demonstrable 
from  its  unifying 
effects. 

"  Mother  language." 

Translatable. 

Dead  but  immortal. 

W.  V.  Humboldt  repudi- 
ates evolution  of 
language. 


Its  essence  inexplicable 
as  posterior  to  mature 
Judgm  ent. 

Sec.  Ill,  115. 


Henceforth,  we  can  but  occasionally  take  cognizance  of  Anthropology  as  regards  man's 
individual  make-up  (Physiology,  Psychology)  or  the  social  organism  (Ethnology,  Sociology). 
The  scope  of  our  science  does  ^not  yet  allow  the  interlacing  of  Anthropology  with  our  system 
in  consecutive  order  or  parallel  progression.  Such  symmetrical  exhibition  of  the  congruity 
of,  and  systematic  reciprocity  between,  physical  and  ethical  science  must  be  left  to  a  future 
Philosophy  of  History. 

The  repository  and  synopsis  of  all  the  sciences  just  now  referred  to,  is  language. 
In  a  striking  manner  it  reveals  the  fact,  that  spirit  and  matter  were  designed  for  each 
other  from  the  beginning.  Language  at  the  same  time  forms  the  great  divide  and  the 
juncture  of  both  worlds.  It  means  communication,and  furnishes  the  means  for  it.  The 
word  is  the  conductor  and  symbol  of  thought  uttered  in  the  world  of  space  and  time. 
It  is  the  symbol  of  the  concinnity  and  conjunction  of  body  and  mind,  of  the  sensuous 
and  the  mental-moral  concomitants,  of  Heaven  and  earth.  The  material  factor  and 
formal  part  of  speech  is  sound,  derived  from  a  specific  set  of  organs,  not  so  wonderful 
for  their  delicacy  as  in  their  arrangement— while  personal  thought  and  emotion  con- 
stitute the  essential  substance  and  formative  principles. 

Schelling  and  W.  v.  Humboldt  accredited  too  much  to  language,  when  they  es- 
teemed it  as  the  creative  principle  of  national  peculiarities,  as  tho  language  were 
propagating  mind.  We  claim  that  national  characteristics  are  rather  creating  the 
languages.  They  merely  bring  to  consciousness  those  distinctive  features  of  native  or 
naturally  innate  propensities  which  coexist  with,  but  are  excelled  by,  language.  For 
the  gift  of  speech,  as  we  shall  prove,  can  only  be'  taken  as  a  descendant  of  the  spiritual 
world,  and  hence  as  the  capability  of  the  mind  to  work  upon  the  line  of  the  inceptive, 
we  might  almost  say,  nascency  of  the  mind. 

Languages  therefore  are  to  be  considered  rather  as  tongues,  offsprings  of  the 
vernacular  of  particular  groups  of  people  ;  but  language  as  a  function  of  the  spirit, 
speech  as  the  vehicle  communicating  thought,  existed  before  such  clusters  of  people 
became  nations  and  races. 

The  notion  that  language  was  of  human  invention,  and  began  with  mere  imitation  of 
natural  sounds,  is  given  up  by  every  person,  even  tho  slightly  educated,  since  that  crude  idea 
could  not  prevent  the  rise  of  Philology  to  the  rank  of  systematic  knowledge  and  to  philo- 
sophical importance.  The  other  notion  of  language  having  been  instilled  by  the  Creator 
ready  made,  went  the  same  way. 

National  consciousness  was  at  first  molded  in  the  forms  of  the  mythological 
mode  of  picture-thinking,  and  moves  on  by  way  of  tradition.  It  loses  the  feature  of 
immediateness  in  conceiving  the  relation  of  things. 

Concepts  were  fixed  to  stereotyped  signs,  and  the  past  was  reproduced  without  be- 
ing understood.  Whenever  language  had  assumed  this  symbolic  shape  and  had  be- 
come mere  repetition  in  expressing  fixed  parabolic  idiosyncracies,  then  it  became 
diversified.  Each  branch  again  molded  and  stereotyped  sectional  peculiarities  in 
keeping  with  changing  religious  apperceptions  and  their  symbols,  in  times  when 
everything  was  deemed  closely  related  to  the  deity.  This  becomes  very  evident  from 
M.  Mueller's  teachings  of  lingual  afliliations,  and  from  Brugsch's  ingenious  inter- 
pretations of  the  Aegyptian  picture-language. 

Language  proves  its  spiritual  descent  by  becoming— according  to  its  nature  in 
the  physical  sphere— a  unifying  factor,  by  virtue  of  which  it  outlives  the  fates  of 
nations.  Hence  language  may  with  all  propriety  be  designated  as  embodied  spirit. 
In  this  capacity  it  combines  separated  tribes  into  generic  units.  It  becomes  the 
elaborate  vessel,  wherein  the  remembrances  of  the  childhood  and  home  of  each  set 
of  people  are  handed  down  to  successive  generations;  conveying  the  most  tender 
sentiments  and  the  noblest  inheritance:  becoming  a  mother-language.  Thus  even 
the  diversity  of  languages,  once  separating  people,  is  rendered  a  means  of  reuniting 
humanity  again,  since  now  in  its  old  age  the  remembrances  of  its  childhood  return 
with  that  mysterious  vivacity  of  the  memory  in  second  childhood.  Translatable  as 
languages  are,  dead  but  immortal,  they  communicate  to  us,  what  our  antipodal 
Aryan  cousins  kept  sacred  ever  since  our  ancestors  separated  from  them  four 
thousand  years  ago. 

W.  V.  Humboldt  said:  "  I  am  convinced  that  language  is  to  be  regarded  as  a 
potentiality  given  to  man  in  his  early  childhood,  since  its  origin  and  essence  can  not 
be  explained  as  a  mere  product  of  understanding  or  mature  consciousness.    The 


I.  A.  Ch.  IV.  §  10.  GENESIS  OF  LANGUAGE.  25 

supposition  that  thousands  upon  thousands  of  years  must  be  taken  into  account,  will  Prototypes  the 
be  of  no  avail  in  proving  its  evolution.     Such  an  invented  contrivance  can  not  be  p"'^***""*^* 
thought  of,  unless  a  proto-type,  present  to  the  mind,  is  presupposed.  re-ngere. 

Here  we  stand  upon  the  great  divide,  before  the  mysterious  hiatus— no  evolution  re-cu?rinc"^' 
without  proto-type;  no  word  without  the  thought  that  was  reflected  from  the  mean-  "„  thi'nS^!'"*^* "''*''***^ 
ing  of  things,  in  their  interrelations,  and  in  their  relation  to  man  as  their  issue  and  ^^''"^" 
Durpose  even  before  his  world-consciousness  had  matured.    A  re-ligere  (according  JJi*'»  «m^« names  to 

f        f  >  «  .    ,  .  .  o  \  o    tilings  as  to  tbeir 

to  Webster  a  re-viewing  of  things  of  which  a  cognizance  is  present  m  the  mind's  ^^J;*,!'""*'  »««««age  is 
idea)  takes  place;  and  an  unconscious,  intuitive  remembrance  of  the  truth,  that  ob- 
jects were  created  after  and  for  the  image  of  the  subject  in  whom  they  find  their 
purpose,  re-curs  to  the  mind  (Herbart's  discovery).     Language  is  born.    Man  named 
things  according  to  their  import  upon  himself  ;  manifesting  his  right  to  be  their 
master,  he  takes  possession  of  what  was  delineated  within  him  and  assigned  to  him.  with  the  first 
With  the  first  utterance  of  thought  the  first  revelation  of  the  spirit  is  given.    In  prStPml  Ms  ** 
language  the  spirit  announces  his  appropriation  of  the  natural  world.    And  up  to  right  of 
date  there  is  the  instinctive  feeling  in  man,  as  McCosh  remarks,  that  unsophisticated  nature"^  *"^ 
language  comes  nearer  to  the  truth  than  most  of  our  artfully  twisted  diction— the  ^^^^^ 
terminology  of  diplomacy  which,  according  to  Talleyrand,  uses  language  rather  to  Talleyrand.  ^''^^^ 
conceal,  than  to  reveal  the  real  meaning  of  a  thought.  '"'' 

Language  is  innate  in  man.    This  we  can  prove  by  deduction  at  least,  while  STaÄifsm  c*^" 
materialistic  monism  can  not  disprove  it,  either  by  intuition,  induction  or  deduc-  """*  ^'^^^°^^- 
tion.    Man  ever  possessed  language  in  the  same  way,  as  now  consciousness  lies  Language  innat«  in  the 
dormant  in  the  mind.    Both  consciousness  and  language  were  born  within  man  in  coniciousnesl'originated 
exactly  the  same  manner  as  he  is  born  now,  that  is,  unconscious  of  their  possession.  '"  '"^"  ^"  ^^ '" ''°™ 
Now  as  ever  internal  impressions  from  above  are  received  in  that  silent  camera 
upon  the  sensitive  plate  as  it  were,  by  way  of  instantaneous  instinctive  feeling  as  N(^  the  result  of 
from  a  "voice,"as  well  as  from  sense-perception  by  way  of  the  sensorium.    Now  as  ever  ^ 
does  the  impression  awaken  the  adequate  expression  reverberating  the  incurring 
"  voice  "  from  the  diaphragm  of  the  mind. 

L3.n£ruas6  precedes 

Max  Mueller  corroborates  this  truth  in  noticing  that  "  the  language  of  children,  giammar. 
because  of  its  originality  is  more  regular  in  its  declension  and  conjugation."    This  a  priori 
shows  reconstructive  ability  in  the  unconscious  recesses  of  consciousness  where  the  ^anf  ^^^®^  **^ 
mind  carries  its  formative  principle.    It  reveals  that  competency  for  making  intui-  see.  27 

tive  valuation  and  comparison,  and  for  drawing  logical  conclusions— the  inexplica-  correctness  of  the 
ble  a  priori  categories  of  Kant  and  Aristotle,- that  ability  which  is  not  always  and  iLMuEirK^MccosH. 
never  all  at  once  present  to  reason  in  its  engaged  state. 

Language  does  not  result  from  so  called  progressive  and  inheritable  evolution.    Its  Language  always  a  unit 
height  of  symmetrical  perfection  is  not  even  to  be  accounted  for  by  empirical  education  and  corresponding  with  the 

..„,  -r^,  .  ,  ,p,  „.  ,.  ,,,  relation  of  the  spirit  to 

scientific  culture.    Rhetoric  partakes  too  much  of  the  nature  of  virtue  as  that  it  could  be  put  the  opposite  unit  of 
on  from  outside  to  every  person  by  any  training.    As  the  eye  and  the  light  preceded  Ophthal.  ^^'^^^!^- 
mology,  so  language  precedes  grammar;  it  contains  its  types  of  beauty,  its  parabolic  nomen- 
clature in  the  back-ground  of  the  psycho-spiritual  part  of  the  mind,  along  with  which  those 
types  were  given  to  man.    In  this  reserved  recess  the  potency  of  language  is  working  with  the 
same  exactness  with  which  the  many-colored  crystal's  shoot  together  in  the  dark  cavities  of 
the  rocks.    It  works  with  the  simplicity  of  the  heptachord  governing  the  sounds,  and  with  the 
precision  of  the  bee,  building  its  hexagons  with  the  greatest  possible  saving  of  time  and  the  Gift  of  speech  is  akin 
least  expenditure  of  wax.  to  the  spirit; 

The  ability  to  express  relationship,  and  to  communicate  the  essence  of  person-  int^'the'söu*i;  *^"  ^"^ 
ality  is  always  present  as  a  unit  in  conformity  with  the  nature  of  the  spiritual  realm  '•7o\ma^\m'tr*unde^ 
of  unity  from  whence  it  was  spoken  into,  and  is  again  called  forth  from,  the  human  '"**^"^   iversity. 
soul.    Mind  within  creates  and  constructs  its  expressions  in  its  own  way,  in  precise 
answer  to  the  external  occasion.    This  is  the  meaning  of  speaking  the  truth.    Lying  ^ 

°  ^  °  "        <=>    Conveys  the  essence  of 

18  contemptible  just  for  the  reason,  that  thereby  language  is  abused  in  representing  personality. 
man  and  things  to  be  what  they  are  not,  thus  corrupting  the  whole  sum  of  personal  speaking  the 
relations.    The  special  arrangement  of  the  organs  of  speech  in  direct  connection  teiung  I^^^"' 
with  the  organ  of  thought  has  also  been  taken  notice  of  as  indicating  and  illus-  ^^^• 

trating  the  distinction,  directness,  and,  to  some  extent,  the  independence  of  speech  Offering      ^ 
from  the  lower  functions  of  our  organism.    As  speech  is  certainly  the  most  spiritual  the  most  spiritual 
function  of  the  person  in  its  entirety,  this  special  physical  adaptedness  indicates  its  persoi?in**fts*^® 
spiritual  significance,  especially  in  the  offering  of  prayer.    These  unique  phenomena  entirety, 
of  spiritual  life  prove,  in  every  respect,  that  language  does  not  evolve  from  below. 


26  LANGUAGE  PROCLAIMS  MAN'S  DOMINION  OVER  NATURE.  I.  A.  Ch.  IV.  §  10.  11 

•        th    f  '^^^  objection  has  been  raised,  that  the  monosyllable  languages  doubtless  belong  to  the 

encetomo^osynaiiic  age  of  man's  childhood,  only  arrested  in  their  development,  and  were  still  waiting  to  be 

and  isoldting  languages,  j^^de  perfect.      This  circumstance  was  alleged  as  proof  against  the  character  of  unity  and 

Summary  of  the  spirituality  of  language,  because  the  Chinese  had  become  isolated  on  that  account.    But  the 

induction  """^Sec  11  18  inference  is  futile.    That  erroneous  view  could  only  have  been  taken  when  comparative  philo- 

as  to  the  gift  of  speech,  logy  was  in  its  childhood,  that  is,  when  we  were  not  yet  acquainted  with  the  immense  cop- 
iousness of  Chinese  literature. 

No.    The  assault  against  the  truth  that  man  as  a  person  excels  the  natural  world, 
Means  of  direct      couM  derive  uo  succor  from  language.    For  language  scorned  an  alliance  with  all 

communication  ,.,.,«  ^,  ......  ,i  t» 

with  the  spiritual  that  weut  in  denial  of  the  spirit;  it  became  our  ally.    If  ever  the  truth  of  the  spirit's 
^''*'*^*^*  aseity  could  have  been  shaken,  language  would  have  revealed  what  is  in  man,— as  the 

physican  reads  the  stomach's  condition  from  the  tongue. 

Language  renders  man  conscious  of  the  fact,  that  a  spirit  lives  within  his  soul, 
Sec.  6, 10,  which  by  virtue  of  this  union  stands  in  direct  communication  with  the  spiritual  world. 
This  demonstrates  personal  man  as  being  the  medium  between  the  two  spheres  of  his 
existence.  Thus  again  man's  position  is  verified,  his  spiritual  excellency  substantia- 
ted, his  freedom  assured.  This  latter  assertion  is  now  to  be  proven  by  still  more  con- 
vincing evidence. 

Man's  moral  task  in-         §  n.  Mau's  moral  task  requires  of  his  corporeal  constitution  to  obey  the  necessities  of 

volves  obtaining  or  "  ^  "■  ^  *' 

regaining  dominion  over  nature  lu  the  Order  preordained,  as  mirrored  in  grammatical  rules  and  a  priori  cate- 
gories, and  without  severing  the  connection  with  the  preceding  development  in  the 
'Minyoice!"  V  lower  Stage.  This  conclusion  has  been  found  already  as  the  starting  point  of  duty, 
tor  ^"5  his  ^^^®"'  But  the  task — originally  the  pleasurable  cultivation  and  preservation  of  his  person  and 
natural  of  paradise— cousists  in  the  very  contest  with  nature  to  obtain  or  regain  full  dominion 


Han's  position  verified 


was  the  birth  of'  over  It.    Mau  began  his  task  with  the  proclamation  of  taking  possession  of  nature  by 

language.  ^^^  "luvoice"  made  of  the  creature  at  the  birth  of  language. 

One  may  call  this  a  clever  allegory  of  things  which  man  is  supposed  to  have  formed  in 
his  child-like  beginning.    But  granted  that  the  description  of  the  fact  was  childish  talk,  it 
Kinship  of  would  only  corroborate  what  M.  Mueller  says  of  the  original  freshness  and  correct  directness 

free<hfm^oT\he       **^  *^®  child's  language.    The  discovery  and  understanding  at  so  late  a  date,  of  the  truth  of  the 
will.  fact  under  discussion  having  been  narrated  at  such  an  early  time  and  in  language  so  unso- 

phisticated, speaks  promptly  against  an  invention  of  either  the  language  or  the  story. 

Words  upon  AH  lasting  results  of  endeavors  made  to  master  the  situation,  of  the  endeavors  in 

menfs^p^ociaim  which  the  "word"  always  took  the  principal  part,  were  retained  in  language.    Monu- 

victory  of  mind  meuts?  intended  to  proclaim  victories  of  the  mind  over  physical  stubborness,  were  in 

over  d^eathfin"  turn  destroyed  by  mute  or  brute  force.    But  the  thoughts  symbolised  in  words  took 

indestructibfe.  wings  and  lived  forever,  testifying  to  their  own  spiritual  nature  and  indestructibility, 

witnessing  their  victory  over  ruined  matter  and  over  physical  power  after  all. 

_          „  Thus  the  word,  not  to  be  fettered  or  killed,  proclaims  the  freedom  of  man  as 

The  "  vrord     in  its  .  .  ,  ^  ,  .,  .f  ,     . 

^lat^on to^ominion      agaiust  the  subjectiou  under  natural  necessity;  it  proclaims  relative  independence 

The  part  which  the  word  from  uaturo  upou  moral  grounds.    The  word  maintains  the  liberty  of  man  in  his  do- 
ever  took  in  mastering  ..  '^  ^  .     ■,        .  ^     ■,    a  i«  .-xi.,  ,., 

the  wori4.  minion  over  nature  as  inherited  from  his  spiritual  side  exclusively,  where  alone  he 

can  preserve  it.    Free  movement,  rational  and  free  choice,  does  not  cover  all  that  we 
mean  by  freedom;  these  civil  liberties  are  the  natural  analogies  merely  of  freedom  in 
the  higher  and  causal  sense.     It  is  the   energy  of  the  mind,  felt  as  the  will, 
which  Gretchen  insisted  upon,  when  she  would  not  follow  Faust  from  the  dungeon 
into  liberty,  that  is,  freedom  in  the  natural  sphere,— is  the  parent  of  liberty, 
^irit^s  felling  of         ^e  define  will  as  the  spirit's  feeling  of  its  own  energy,  as  thought  in  action, 
its  own  energy ;     Heuce  freedom  is  an  attribute  of  the  will  inasmuch  as  it  is  heaven-born.    Hence  Ian- 
action,  guage  is  akin  to  freedom  of  the  will  as  it  initiates  the  dominion  over  nature. 

Perhaps  language  could  speak  more  clearly  of  the  union  of  the  natural  and  spirit- 
ual in  man,  and  of  will  and  freedom  in  particular,  were  it  not  for  the  difficulty  of 
discerning  physical  from  ethical  motives,  and  for  the  paralogisms  perpetrated  on  that 
account.  It  is  for  this  reason,  that  the  concepts  of  freedom  and  liberty— just  as  that 
under^inisappHed'  of  couscleuce  for  the  same  reasons^ — are  liable  to  be  mixed  up  and  taken  amiss. 
analogy.  Sec  7, 8.  j^j|jgj.^y  guffgrg  ^g  much  abuse  as  language,  wherein  we  find  another  proof  of  their 
spirituality  and  for  the  ontogeny  of  the  spirit  itself.  For,  it  is  the  common  fate  of 
the  highest  blessings,  when  brought  into  intercourse  with  natural  life,  to  be  turned 
into  curses. 


I.  A.  Ch.  IV.  §  11.  NECESSITY  AND  FREEDOM.  27 

Freedom  is  often  entirely  identified  with  liberty,  and  thus  lowered  tc  the  class  of  these  Lbibmti's  blunder  in 
analogies  between  physical  and  spiritual  life,  which  become  so  natural  to  us,  that  we  forget  and  liberty."*"***  ^ 
to  distinguish  mental,  corporeal,  if  not  carnal,  incitements,  events,  and  results,  from  spiritual 
motives,  events,  and  effects.  Such  a  mistake  was  made  by  Leibnitz,  when,  for  an  illustration 
of  the  difference  between  necessity  and  liberty,  he  made  the  magnetic  needle  speak  to  other 
needles  about  choosing  another  direction.  He  sadly  failed,  of  course,  to  show  his  point.  Not- 
withstanding the  blunder,  he  illustrated  the  kindredship  of  both,  language  and  liberty,  be- 
cause of  their  common, purely  spiritual  source.  Leibnitz's  disparagement  of  them  was  merely 
one  of  those  cases  alluded  to,  where  "extremes  meet."  The  caution,  desirable  for  a  definite  con- 
cept of  liberty,  that  is,  of  freedom  in  the  natubal  moral  sphere,  is  to  be  exercised  especially 
where  a  true  and  clear  picture  is  to  be  drawn  of  the  correlations  between  liberty  and  neces- 
sity. Hence  we  shall  always  use  the  term  liberty  in  distinction  from  freedom,  its  spiritual 
source. 

With  reference  to  necessity  in  nature—  human  nature,  i.  e.  the  physical  part  of 
the  mind  always  included— we  find  in  nature  appropriation  and  deprivation,  distri-  KSftuATies 
bution,  and  assimilation,  and  excretion  of  the  refuse  in  the  processes  of  both,  bodily  dimonstrlte!)ur'*^  ^^ 
and  mental  nutrition.    We  know  our  existence  to  depend  on  the  normal  course  of  foEwr 
these  processes.    Of  the  imponderable  influences,  Impressions  and  oppressions  of  the  ^^^  ^^^  ^^^  ^^^^^ 
physical  and  mental  atmospheres,  as  to  their  healthy  or  nefarious  conditions,  we  re-  J[^ert  ""  '^^'^'"'^^  •"* 
ceive  very  decided  convictions,  usually  without  much  reflection.    Altho  we  are  de-      . . 
pendent  upon  or  oppressed  by  these  things,  yet  in  spite  or  perhaps  in  consequence  of  seiroTiibertrafflr]^ 
compulsion  or  want,  we  feel  free,  we  take  the  liberty,  to  form  our  judgment  about 
them.    Notwithstanding  the  resigned  attitude  we  are  forced  to  assume  against  inevi- 
tables we  maintain — our  liberty?  no— our  freedom.    Gretchen  told  Faust;  "Ich  will 
nicht!"    This  illustrates  that  by  our  reflecting  upon  these  necessities  and  the  conflict 
with  them,  we  affirm  our  consciousness  of  the  higher  life  which  wants  to  deliver  us 
from  the  restraints  of  natural  confinement.    This  feeling  and  thinking  over  the  mat- 
ter proves  our  innate  freedom.    Otherwise  it  would  prove  that  we  would  not  care  to 
preserve  oui  freedom  and  did  not  deserve  liberty.    We  may  choose  to  deny  ourselves  of 
it,  but  this  again  would  prove  that  the  deliberation  and  the  decision  are  in  our  own 
hands,  that  even  in  foregoing  liberty  we  are  at  liberty  to  do  so.    Thus  we  affirm  the 
freedom  of  the  will  even  under  serious  constraint. 

We  are  agreed  that  if  it  comes  to  the  moral  sphere,  the  idea  of  freedom  must  not 
be  suffered  to  remain  a  mere  capricious  notion,but  must  be  disentangled  from  the  ac- 
customed analogies  and  from  a  promiscuous  use  of  language. 

Let  us  here  ask:    Do  liberty  and  necessity  always  exclude  each  other?    We  hesi- 
tate to  hastily  adopt  such  a  conclusion.    There  is  a  natural  necessity  to  which  we  JT Ssftfe?""'*''''''' 
voluntarily  submit.  Now  what  prompts  our  volition  to  do  it?    In  the  first  place  there  despite  natural 
is  a  feeling  that  it  will  be  better  for  us  to  choose  against  our  inclination,  because  of  i^^ciinations 
an  advantage  to  be  gained  in  this  direction  or  a  damage  to  be  avoided  in  that— or  out  °"*  °*  '•«sard  for  highet 
of  regard  to  an  obligation  higher  than  both,  higher  than  Utilitarianism  would  pre-  ^onceft?of"^^l1ch 
scribe,  or  Eudemonism  would  care  for.  This  feeling  may  be  very  faint,  generally  it  is  thrmorereKdupon. 
more  so,   the   more   reflecting  thought  is  turned  upon  it.    It   is   a   potent  faculty 
of  the  mind,  which  must  be  developed  under  cultivation  along  with  the  other  facul- 
ties and  in  harmony  with  them. 

However  feeble  this  feeling,  it  infallibly  indicates  (i.  e.  speaks  into)  what  is  bet- 
ter for  us  and  what  is  worthy  of  us  or  not.    We  may  be  conscious  of  the  advice  at 
once,  and  in  this  case  have  an  immediate  judgment;  or  we  may  refer  the  indication  SSiSm^orS^^^^ 
to  reason  for  disquisition  and  adjustment.    In  the  usual  cooperation  of  both,  feeling  judgments, 
and  reason,  the  latter  will  preponderate  in  the  verdict;  and  this,in  most  cases,will  en-  Manifestations  of  the 
danger  the  verdict.    For  there  are  sundry  grounds  to  suspect  reason  of  unreliability  *®^^*"^  ***  value, 
and  partiality;  there  are  suggestions  and  motives  felt  to  rise  from  another  kind  of 
feeling,  from  sensuous  sentiency,  which  have  an  interest  to  bribe  reason  so  as  to  de- 
cide in  favor  of  a  misrepresented  value,  under  the  influence  of  the  will,  which  then 
will  make  the  mistake. 

"Mind"  will  argue  in  favor  of  something  preferable  for  certain  "reasons",  while 
the  inward  feeling,  our  moral  sentiency  has  a  fine  sense  for  the  "Absolute  Good."  It 
is  conscience  pure  and  simple,  which  feels  the  sole  necessity  of  this  Good  and  recog- 
nises nothing  besides.  It  is  most  certain  of  the  Supreme  Good  as  having  all  value 
and  virtue  in  itself.    It  acts  as  the  plenipotentiary  of  the  realm  where  freedom  and 

5 


Judgrnent  and 
reason 

unreliable: 

under  motives  arising 

from  the  sensuous 

feelings. 

Conscience  the 
pleni-potentiary 
of  the  sovereign- 
ty of  the 
•'Absolute  Good.' 


Guardian  of  freedom 
and  personal  dignity; 

suing   free  will  to 
agree  with  the  con- 
ditions of  the  solitary 
necessity 

Craving  for   "  something 
better."  is  an  affirmation 


destiny  for  the   "  Good  ' 
which  is  designed  for  us 


The  task  to  be  worked 
out  in  freedom. 


Task  of  culti- 
vating harmony 
among  our 
faculties  and 


Subsequent  to 
wrong  preference 
of  the  secondary 
good. 

Corrupt  concept  of 
independence  leads  into 
servitude. 


Incorruptibility  of  the 
"still  small  voice." 

Kinship  between 
conscience  and 
language. 


CoTUcience  keeps  up 
communication  with 
the  world  of 
"  formal  unity  "  but, 
for  reasons  of  preserv- 
ing itself  and  man'^- 
dignity,  withdraws  into 
the  privacy  of 
subconsciousness. 


CONSCIENCE  THE  WARDEN  OE  FREEDOM  I.  A.  Ch.  IV.  §  11. 

love  reign  supreme  by  necessity  of  the  spiritual  nature  in  its  "formal  unity  under  ma- 
terial diversity."  It  represents  the  sovereign  Good  which  alone  is  necessary  but  not 
to  be  forced  upon  persons  lest  its  value  would  be  lowered.  Hence  the  free  conscience 
whilst  insisting  upon  the  solitary  necessity,  at  the  same  time  respects  and  preserves 
personal  freedom,  liberty  included.  That  fine  feeling,  even  retreating,  yet  ever  con- 
tinuing to  remain  in  immediate  touch  with  the  Absolute  Good,  and  very  distinct  from 
"reflective  consciousness,"  if  decided  against  by  deliberate  reason— i.  e.  judgment  in 
conjuncture  with  sensuous  motives,  that  is,  "willfulness"— withdraws  because  of  its 
esteem  of  freedom,  not  however  without  holding  the  person  under  durance  of  respon- 
sibility and  thus  upholding  man's  dignity. 

Now  reason  by  its  preponderance  has  formed  a  wrong  judgment.  It  has  willful- 
ly, perhaps,  mistaken  the  arbitrariness  of  volition  for  freedom  of  the  will,  and  has 
led  the  whole  person  into  error  as  to  the  real  value,  as  to  that  "which  might  be  bet- 
ter;" mistaking  it  for  the  highest  and  alone  necessary,  i.e.  the  Absolute  Good.  It  has 
misapplied  the  secondary  good  in  nature,  if  not  something  worse.  Still  the  subter- 
fuge of  having  erred  from  ignorance  is  no  excuse,  since  that  yielding  to  the  imagined 
something  better,  wanted  by  the  will,  implies  the  affirmation  and  acknowledgment 
of  the  higher  destiny  which  determines  what  is  really  serving  the  best  interests  all 
around  and  is  truly  in  our  favor  and  for  our  own  benefit. 

We  feel  "the  best"  to  be  destined  for  us,  and  ourselves  destined  for  it.  Now  the 
cultivation  of  harmony  within  ourselves,  that  is  making  our  faculties  and  their 
functions  to  agree  with  our  destiny,  the  cultivation  of  harmony  between  the  natural 
and  spiritual  worlds  as  being  blended  in  our  being,  is  the  very  task  to  be  performed 
for  reaching  perfect  communion  w'ththe  world  of  unity.  It  is  the  necessity  of  this  order 
in  the  nature  of  the  Absolute  Good  which  sues  free  will  by  warnings  to  consent  to, 
and  to  voluntarily  determine  itself  for,  this  union.  For,  notwithstanding  this  neces- 
sity, will  is  to  remain  as  free  as  the  Good  held  out  to  it,  is  free  inasmuch  as  it  is  not 
to  be  forced  upon  our  acceptance.  Freedom  is  to  be  maintained  under  all  circum- 
stances for  reasons  of  love  and  because  of  the  whole  constitution  and  nature  of  the 
spiritual  world.  Only  in  this  sphere  and  under  consent  to  this  inner  necessity  the 
freedom  of  the  will  can  prosper ! 

Whenever  reason  and  volition— in  their  capacity  of  free  choice— (both  obliged  to 
cooperate  by  virtue  of  their  spiritual  kinship,  since  the  principal  character  of  the 
spiritual  sphere  is  unity,  and  since  the  apparatus  contains  the  condition :  inter- 
related connection  and  cooperative  interaction  of  all  spheres  of  development)  when- 
ever reason  and  volition  give  way  to  false  valuation  of  the  preferable,  mistaking  the 
secondary  relative  good  in  nature  for  the  Supreme  Good  and  misapplying  it,  and  ig- 
noring the  spiritual  interest  under  the  spell  of  self  delusion,  then  personal  life  becomes 
estranged  from  its  source  and  native  home.  The  transgressor  becomes  sensual  in  pro- 
portion to  the  practice  of  habitual  arbitrariness.  In  the  confusion  ensuing  he  takes 
perverseness  and  obstinacy  for  consistency  of  character,  especially  when  laboring  to 
turn  relative  independence  and  dominion  into  emancipation  from  the  authority  of 
the  spiritual,  and— into  corresponding  servitude  to  the  lower  world. 

Part  of  personal  life,  however,  always  individual  and  resisting  absorption  into 
the  generalness  of  the  sphere  of  "  formal  diversity  under  material  unity,"  is  not  thus 
to  be  seduced  and  adulterated.  It  is  the  language  of  the  spirit-land,  the  "  still  small 
voice."  It  is  the  universally  understood  expression  of  the  feeling  which  can  not  be 
intimidated  to  leave  its  post  as  representative  of  the  Absolute  Good  and  as  witness 
for  its  necessity ;  which  can  not  be  alienated  from  keeping  communication  with 
God.  It  remains  on  speaking  terms  with  the  Good.  It  alone  perpetuates  the  con- 
nection and  contact  with  the  indissoluble  spiritual  side  of  personal  life,  of  which  we 
know  that  it  transcends  selfconsciousness  It  surpasses  that  part  of  our  being 
which  is  confined  to  the  form  of  existence  limited  by  space  and  time. 

This  feeling,  in  order  to  maintain  its  independence,  its  incorruptibility  and  free- 
dom, retires  into  the  innermost  recesses  of  the  mind  (the  psycho-spiritual  life),  where, 
out  of  reach  of  peripheral  turmoil,  the  purely  spiritual  constituents  of  personal  life 
are  bound  together  by  their  nature  of  unity,  where  the  person  is  kept  in  durance  of 
responsibility,  so  that  the  dignity  of  man  is  at  the  same  time  preserved  in  the  pri- 
vacy of  retired  conscientiousness. 


I  A    Ca.  IV    §  11.  LOVE  IN  BELATION  TO  NECESSITY  AND  FREEDOM.  19 

In  the  meanwhile  otlier  feelings  usurp  the  function  of  deciding  what  is  neces- 
sary, belying  the  ego  as  to  the  necessity  of  the  secondary  good,  by  denying  it  to  be  the 
highest  good.    The  whole  mind  gets  confused  and  disturbed  and  unbalanced.    The 
appetites,  cutting  loose  from  the  authority  of  the  spiritual  principle  of  unity,  become 
dissolute  ;  and  they  dominate,  altho  losing  themselves  into  the  sphere  of  the  mani- 
fold.   They  oppose  and  reject  the  control  of  the  spirit  in  order  to  reign  under  as-  howsmanuA 
8umed  liberty,  notwithstanding  the  reproachful  feeling  of  the  misery  of  serfdom  re"s"onTibiiity.    sec «. 
under  natural  necessity.    This  painful  split  is  the  empirical  state  of  personal  life,  Freedom  of  feeiing 
aggravated  by  the  unceasing  conflict  between  "  the  spirit  and  the  flesh."    Serf  dorn  i8  Km  u  S*  *"«<^<>"» 
humiliatingly  felt,  it  is  mortifying.    Free  will  is  lost,  and  the  rest  of  the  will-energy 
by  degrees  will  also  be  lost  entirely,  because  the  natural  part,  when  severed  from  the 
spiritual  union,  falls  under  the  natural  law  of  disintegration  and  cannot  live. 

The  answer  to  the  question :  "How  may  the  loss  be  retrieved  ?"  is  to  be  obtained  from 
the  science  of  the  purely  spiritual  Good.  We  can  here  only  give  the  assurance,  from  what  we 
know  of  its  self  esteem,  that  amends  will  not  be  forced  upon  man  at  this  hour  of  the  wopld 
■without  the  asking. 

Equipoise  of  nature 

Thus  the  equipoise  of  the  two  worlds  virtually  is  balanced  in  man  who  belongs  the^^P'giiVof^Kca^e, 
to  both.    Under  this  aspect  alone  he  and  his  history  may  be  understood.    That  equi-  upby^coTclenc^  weak 
poise  is  indicated  by  the  tongue  of  the  scales  of  righteousness  as  held  up  here  beneath  "»«^^i^'^«- 
by  conscience  weak  and  alone.    And  thus  solely  and  truly  the  equation  between  the 
paradoxical  relations  of  necessity  and  freedom  in  either  sphere  is  demonstrable. 
It  will  even  stand  the  test  of  experiment  I 

The  features  of  mutual  adaptability  of  nature  and  spirit  to  each  other,  and  the 
features  of  kinship  among  the  spiritual  entities  of  language,  conscience,  and  free- 
dom are  also  demonstrable  and  empirical  in  every  relation  of  love.  Its  spiritual 
nature  intimately  unites  love  with  the  feeling  of  value  and  the  freedom  of  the  will,  lo^t^^*^  ^" 

Nobody  will  deny  that  love,  like  conscience,  is  a  personal  matter.  Kinship  of  the  spiritoaj 

Again  it  is  the  promiscuous  use  of  the  term  caused  by  the  misleading  analogous  processes  language,  conscience 
spoken  of,  which  transfer  love  to  things.    We  can  only  love  persons,  not  even  ideas,  were  they  vJJ^nH  *of"  "^  ^°^^'  *  * 
ever  so  holy.    The  doctrine  of  this  unique  energy  and  entity  "Love"  belongs  to  Ethics,  altho  perfection, 
the  autonomic,  we  may  say  mechanical-autonomic  Moral-philosophy  of  the  Kantian  school, 
(Calderwood  closely  following,)  utterly  ignored  it.    Kant  mentioned  love  only  as  a  poetical  Caiderwood  slights  love, 

luxurv  *^®  cardinal  principle 

^ '  in  ethics. 

Considering  then  the  relation  of  love  to  freedom,  nobody  will  deny  that  it  is  in  the  Love  personal  nice 
power  of  any  person  to  accept  or  reject,  to  renounce  it,  or  to  deny  oneself  of  the  per-  *="''^"*'''=*- 
son  loved,  or  to  make  one's  self  even  a  sacrifice  out  of  love,  and  in  the  interest  of  the 
person  loved.    All  who  understand  the  strong  hold  it  takes  and  by  which  it  draws; 
■who  can  the  more  appreciate  its  necessity  for  life  because  of  the  very  separation  from 
its  object:  all  such  will  testify  that  in  this  highest  and  most  intense  power  of  "the  unifying  power 
bond  of  perfection,"  freedom  and  necessity  are  intrinsically  interwoven.    The  grief  of  love  like 
of  separation  demonstrates  anew  the  indestuctibility,  indissolubility  and  unifying  *^^"^^®* 
power  of  the  spiritual  essence,  and  also  the  interrelations  of  those  coeöicients  of 
human  nature,  which  we  know  already  by  their  family-likeness.    As  language  and 
conscience,  feeling  and  willing  or  volition  and  valuation,  judgment  and  adjustment, 
are  recognisable  as  twin-pairs,  as  it  were,  so  freedom  and  necessity  permeating  and 
balancing  them  all,  seek  to  escape  from  being  paradoxically  misconceived,  and  they 
seek  to  find  their  conciliation  in  the  human  heart.    At  any  rate  the  conciliation  between 
necessity  and  freedom  is  wrought  by  love. 

Here  the  indiscretion,  identifying  spiritual  functions  and  purposes,  and  blending  them 
indiscriminately  with  the  correlative  processes  of  natural   life,  works  most   disastrously^ 
Think  of  the  comparisons  made  between  the  "love  of  a  tigress"  toward  her  cubs  and  the  love  caution  against 
of  a  mother.    The  necessity  as  well  as  the  freedom  of  love  come,  of  course,  under  the  class  of  identifying  the  freedom 
analogous  processes  in  which,  on  account  of  the  union  between  the  psyche  and  the  spirit,  both  wlth^thefr'p^iysical^ 
modi  of  necessity, along  with  love  itself, penetrate  most  deeply  into  the  physical  part  of  human  »pa.'og'es  '^  oi  high 

,  ♦.,-,.  6tnical  import. 

nature.    Hence  the  tangle  and  wrong  application  of  the  "communicatio  idiomatum"  as  it  Sec.  7,  8. 

were,  becomes  peculiarly  mischievous  in  incidents  of  this  kind.  More  so,  since  emotional  differ 

from  rational  phenomena  in  that  they  belong  to  the  sphere  of  passiveness,  and  are  therefore 

prone  to  split  and  to  burst  out  in  passions.      Here  clearness   about  attributes  and  functions, 

motives  and  purposes  is   of   highest   importance   for   history   whenever   it   is   to   announce 

judgment. 


30 


LOVE'S  emblem:  sacrifice. 


I.  A.  Ch.  IV.  §  12. 


The  blending  of  necessity  and  freedom  with  lcve,and  the  blending  of  love  with  the 
whole  fabric  of  the  human  being  is  exceedingly  important  to  morality.  Hence  it  is 
especially  desirable  in  this  instance,  that  the  lines  between  spiritual  emotion  and 
natural  sentiment,  and  between  that  set  of  sentiencies  and  the  rational  energies  must 
not  be  obliterated. 

For  the  sake  of  humanism  the  cognitions  of  these  psychological  items  should  be 
allowed  no  longer  to  become  corrupted  and  misconstrued  through  the  pseudo-conclu- 
sions alluded  to  upon  the  naturalistic  basis.  For,  severed  from  their  spiritual  source 
love  and  freedom  must  pine  away ! 

There  are  theories,  popular  and  easily  propagated  because  pandering-  to  the  low  predilec- 
tions of  growing  sensualism,  which  teach  to  apply  love  along  with  liberty  in  the  mere  natural 
sense.  Both  are  equivocally  attributed  to  physico-psychical  life,  after  the  psyche  has  been 
purged  of  every  vestige  of  spirituality.  This  is  evidently  done  to  humor  the  masses,  who 
mistake  the  spiritual  for  the  religious  life,  which  per  se,  and  in  the  sense  here  propounded,  it 
is  not. 

It  is  evident  that  in  such  a  muddle  of  affairs  the  understanding  of  man  and  his 
history  in  the  most  sacred  and  solemn  concerns  is  not  only  impossible,  but  that  then 
wild  world-theories  are  promulgated,  and  wrong  views  of  life  prevail  which  can  not 
but  be  pregnant  with  very  serious  consequences.  On  the  other  hand,  it  is  evident 
that  with  the  proper  achievement  of  the  unification  of  spirit  and  nature  in  man,  and 
through  their  proper  permeation  in  the  rational-moral  sphere,  that  is,  under  methods 
of  applying  Ethics  to  actual  life  :  truth,  conscience,  necessity  and  freedom  and  love 
will  all  fully  and  forever  stand  by  each  other  in  personal  relationship.  These  enti- 
ties, if  such  we  may  call  these  cardinal  factors,  will  by  virtue  of  their  purely  spirit- 
ual nature,  render  the  union  inseparable  and  will  form  a  partnership  of  coefficients 
for  still  higher  purposes. 

Meanwhile  love's  emblem,  representing  the  union  of  tlie  necessity  of  tlie  good  with 
freedom  and  witli  love,  is— sacrifice. 

§  12.  Let  us  frame  the  results  of  the  inductive  analysis  so  far  found  into  a  syl- 
logism. Max  Mueller  once  said :  "Language  stands  one  foot  in  the  realm  of  nature 
and  the  other  in  that  of  the  spirit.'*  This  corroborates  our  axiom  and  the  result  of 
our  investigation,  that  language  reveals  what  is  in  man.  For  this  reason  the  mere 
"  scientific  "  way,  if  one-sided  analysis  dares  to  assume  the  name,  will  not  lead  to  our 
discoveries. 

Neither  comparative  craniognomy  nor  the  hap-hazard  measurements  of  physio- 
logical and  experimental  psychology  will  by  themselves  be  able  to  disclose  the 
generic  constituency  of  a  single  person  and  his  grand  significance,  much  less  that 
of  the  race  as  a  whole. 

Neither  will  the  philosophical  disciplines  by  themselves  accomplish  this,  altho 
Des  Cartes  already  opined  that  out  of  his  "  cogito  "  and  his  "  sum  "  he  could  explain 
everything,  in  doubts  of  which  he  had  begun  his  inquiry  Comparative  philosophy 
of  religion  attempted  to  explain  the  formations  of  national  characters  and  to  ac- 

Jouid^discfolrÄ  tSr  count  for  forms  of  governments,  revolutions,  dissolutions— but  at  its  best  it  treated 

SngtrnaS       ouly  oue  side  of  life,  discarding  the  other. 

and  the  spiritual.  ^  prcvlously  meutloued,  more  might  have  been  expected  of  moral  philosophy. 

But  it  was  rarely  made  a  rule  that  a  moral  philosopher  should  know  as  much  of  his- 
tory as  of  metaphysics,  and  that  for  a  genuine  anthropology  all  historical  material 
as  well  as  the  whole  of  nature  should  be  ransacked.  It  is  not  generally  conceived 
that  universal  history  and  ethnography  must  be  to  ethics  what  natural  history  is  to 
physiology,  and  what  both  are  to  the  medical  science.  Had  ethics  been  aware  of  its 
relation-  to  history  and  physiological  psychology,  it  could  have  pondered  over  a  little 
more  material ;  it  could  have  availed  itself  of  a  few  more  auxiliaries  and  coefficients 

humanitarianism  than  Plato  and  Spiuoza  had  at  hand.  Still  it  lacked  the  ethnological  and  the  philo- 
logical data,  contributed  only  since  the  quiet,  empirical  work  of  missionaries  had 
begun  to  command  the  respect  of  the  philosophers.  It  also  lacked  the  discoveries^ 
archaeological  and  philological,  made  by  a  score  of  daring  explorers.  It  is  only  re- 
cently that  ethics,  like  Dorner's  system,  seems  to  become  a  qualified  coworker  with 
philosophy  of  history  for  the  most  correct  interpretation  possible,  of  man,  humanity. 


Builders  of  "scientific" 
•world-theories,  in  order 
to  cater  sensualism 
purge  the  soul  of  its 
spiritual  elements, 
mistaking  the  spirit  as 
pertaining  to  religion 
«lone.     Sec.  5, 15,  23,  35. 


To  guard  against  such 
perils 

The  true  theory  of 
ethics   is  methodically  to 
be  applied  to  practical 
life. 


Union  of  the 
necessity  of  the 
Good  with  free- 
dom and  with 
love  is  represent- 
ed in  love's 
emblem 

SACKIFICE. 
BBCAPITULATION  I 

M.  MxTELLEB  on  the  dual 
nature  of  language 


Contributions  of 
the  missionaries 
toward  our 
science  of  true 


I.  A.  CH.  IV.  §  12.  PHILOLOGY  PROVES  THE  DUALITY  OF  HUMAN  NATURE.  31 

and  history,  so  as  not  to  leave  out  of  sight  the  final  goal  of  historic  progress.  We 
found  that  so  far  the  most  conclusive  arguments  for  the  union  of  the  spiritual  and 
natural  worlds  in  man,  have  been  furnished  by  comparative  philology.  By  the  study 
of  tongues,  and  of  families  of  languages,  the  truth  of  real  life  can  be  discerned  ap- 
proximately correctly,  because  it  deals  with  disclosures  from  both  worlds;  and  because 
in  its  documentary  proofs  it  possesses  a  firm  basis  of  historical  realities  and  the 
evidence  of  disinterested  eye  and  ear  witnesses.  Altho  a  great  many  are  mutilated 
and  some  are  mere  fragments,  yet  others  are  found  which  supplement  the  meager 
suggestions  of  the  first,  and  when  all  are  deciphered  and  speak,  one  set  will  restore 
the  full  sense  otherwise  missing,  whilst  an  other  will  correct  erroneous  interpreta- 
tions of  former  times  along  the  whole  line. 

While  races  mingle,  states  break  up,  and  nations  perish,  their  languages  com 
memorate  their  fame  or  their  fate,  and  dead  stones  become  living  witnesses  above  The  essentials  in  the 
suspicion.    Languages  may  be  called  dead,  but  in  their  tombs  we  find  more  than  cohesfon'and"""""'*"' 
retarded  or  arrested,  we  find  resurrected,  life.    They  possess  that  character  by  virtue  '=°°*"^'"*y- 
of  their  higher  substantiality,  which  never  becomes  subject  to  the  natural  law  of  de- 
composition, but  which  on  account  of  the  unity  holding  sway  in  the  spiritual  realub 
can  ever  be  resuscitated  by  translation.    They  are  like  sighs  for  deliverance,  uttered 
by  that  creature  which  forms  a  part  of  our  own  being,  notwithstanding  our  being  un- 
conscious of  it.    Hence  philology  alone  is  cempetent  to  show  beyond  controversy  the 
true  import  of  history  and  nature  associated.    It  learns  man's  inner  condition  not 
without  due  consideration  of  the  material  part  that  serves  as  the  substantial  con- 
ductor of  the  spiritual  elements,  nor  without  criticism,  and  not  without  handling- 
some  solid  stuff  in  excavating. 

Philology  exhibits  the  proofs  of  the  dual  character  of  personal  life— of  human  ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ 
nature  we  will  say  henceforth,— as  her  triumphs.    From  the  proofs  we  posit  as  the  es-  and^th^prospecVfor^ 
sentials  of  the  sphere  of  "formal  unity  in  personal  diversity":  cohesion,  continuity  our  deductions. 
and  unity  of  consciousness. 

unless  we  are  sure  of  these  three  manifestations  of  the  spiritual  in  this  material 
world,  we  can  have  no  knowledge  of  what  we  mean  by  humanity,  and  what  may  be 
the  purpose  of  its  life.  We  could  know  as  little  of  this,  as  we  could  be  sure  of  our 
own  selves,  if  our  lives  were  not  held  together,  under  all  bodily  changes,  by  our 
self  consciousness.  The  tripartition  of  conscious  life,  alluded  to  in  the  beginning,  and 
the  triad  with  which  we  conclude  our  first  glance  at  man,  is  to  be  materialised  in  the 
*'cogito"  of  the  person  who  is  sure  of  his  "sum."  Without  recognising  his  conscious- 
ness, all  the  "formal  diversity  of  the  world  of  material  unity"  remains  a  dire  riddle, 
the  most  portentous  of  all  enigmata. 

Now  let  us  examine,  whether  our  ascent  from  the  manifold  to  that  unity  to  be 
perfected  in  the  One,  did  not  mislead  us;  or  whether  the  One  is  superfluous,  so  that 
the  secret  hidden  in  diversity,  might  be  discerned  regardless  of  unity. 

In  the  first  germ  of  plant  life,  (exact  science  states),  the  prototype  of  the  genus  Germinal  type  contains 
must  be— anticipated,  imagined.    Were  we  able  to  introspect  that  type,  and  to  inter-  genu^^''  '^ '  ° 
pret  its  design,  we  would  be  able  also  to  delineate  or  construct  in  our  mind  the  aitui^pa^-imagined. 
peculiarities  of  a  plant  from  germ  to  crown.    We  might  further  be  able  to  explain 
the  significance  it  bears  upon  its  whole  genus,  yea  upon  the  whole  economy  of  na- 
ture.   The  first  germ  containing  the  type,  then,  would  represent  the  character  of  its 
generic  totality.   Such  conjecturing  is  legitimate,and  evolution  constantly  works  upon 
this  proposition  which  gave  birth  to  the  young  science  of  biology.    It  is  legitimate 
because  the  totality  of  nature  does  not  consist  of  a  collection  or  an  agglomerated 
mass,  but  is  an  organised  unity,  be  it  ever  so  finely  differentiated  and  widely  varie- 
gated. 

In  a  much  higher  sense  does  the  theme  of  universal  history  rest  in  man— as  its  J^jf^  P^^f^^^J^^^^' 
type.    The  whole  fabric  of  its  continual  and  progressive  development  is  implied  in  mans deveiop- 
him.    He  is  the  key  to  it.     Man's  being  as  a  person  is  bound  up  with  the  region  be-  Sm  as^«frproto- 
low  him,— circumscribed  only  by  the  limits  of  the  material  unit  of  nature  in  general,  type  of  historical 

.....  .        ,         .i,         ..      1   J.   J  •      fft      i_    J.  development. 

—on  account  of  his  intrinsic  connection  not  only  with  articulated  organic  life,  but 
also  with  inorganic,  compressed,  confined  life.  On  the  other  side  man  is  just  as  in- 
trinsically connected  with  the  spiritual  unit  of  personal  diversity.    He  has  thus  be- 


Man's  dual  rela; 
tion  to  inorganic 
life  even,  and  to 
the  spiritual  unit 
as  an 

individualised 
member. 

Altho  a  member 
of  the  higher 
genus,  yet 
necessary  to 
remain  one  of 
the  lower  also ; 

so  as  to  elevate  along 
with  liiniself  the  whole 
of  nature  belonging  to 
him. 


Humanity  a  unit; 
conjoining  in 
itself  the  two 
units  of  the 
worlds  above 
and  below. 


Language  the  focus 
from  which  to  view  the 
unit  of  universal  history; 


History  not  intelligible 
unless  considered  as  a 
totality. 

MORAL  COSMOS. 

History's  teachings 
made  applicable  in  a 
sound  world-theory, 
founded  upon  the 
duality  of  human 
nature. 

The  Good  in 
reach  of  all. 
The  Bad 
avoidable  and  to 
be  resisted. 

Man  the  microcosm  of 
•  the  natural  and  moral 
cosmos  combined ; 
Humanity  considered  as 
man  developing, 
History  as  the 
macrocosm  of  man. 


Historic  importance  of 
every  individual. 


Man,  not  the 
environment, 
shapes  his  weal  or  woe. 

Moral  and  mental 

Erogress  initiated 
y  personal  and 
national  life 
issues  from  the 
spiritual  sphere 
of  personality, 
not  from  that  of 
natural 
generalness. 

Sec.  6. 


HISTORY  BRINGS  OUT  THE  IMPORTANCE  OF  EVERY  PERSON.     I.  A.  Ch.  IV.  §  12. 

come  individualised  as  a  member  of  the  spirit-world,  a  natural— spiritual  entity,  a 
specimen  of  a  higher  genus,  a  person.  His  development,  as  such  a  personality— by- 
way of  self  cultivation  in  the  moral  process,  that  is,  in  his  advancing  appropriation  of 
nature  in  order  to  lead  it  upward  in  and  with  himself— makes  it  necessary  for  him 
to  remain  a  member  of  the  lower  genus  also.  This,  for  the  present,  is  his  vocation 
and  position.  He,  and  nature  (forever  belonging  to  him)  with  him,  is  in  a  state  of 
transition  to  the  spiritual,  unified  mode  of  existence. 

It  this  dual  membership  of  human  nature,  implying  connection  inter  se  as  a 
genus;  if  this  formation  of  one  unit  called  humanity,  conjoining  in  itself  the  polar 
units  above  and  below,  is  established  by  the  science  of  languages,  then  we  possess  in 
language  a  focus  true  and  sure,  from  which  universal  history  may  be  looked  into. 
Through  this  object-lens  its  whole  significance  and  all  its  conjunctures  must  be 
observable. 

All  history  is  then  conceived  as  one  entire  whole,  from  the  connections  of  which  the 
single  items  can  be  examined  as  to  their  merits  or  demerits,  their  value  or  their  faults ;  we 
can  then  trace  out  the  interchanging  causes  and  effects  of  oppressions,  insurrections,  pro- 
gresses, relapses,  failures :  we  can  locate  depravity  and  its  consequences.  Not  without  this 
reference  to  the  whole  are  we  able  to  judge  of  what  is  worthy  to  be  imitated,  or  what  is  to  be 
avoided  as  dangerous.  The  good  results  obtained  in  the  happy  realisation  of  the  true  and  the 
good  and  the  beautiful,  are  thus  sorted  out  and  exhibited,  treasured  up  and  made  applicable. 
Such  a  practical  and  beneficial  service  of  the  Philosophy  of  History,  is  vouched  for  by  analo- 
gous services  of  other  applied  sciences,  and  by  precedents  in  the  past.  We  thus  become  en- 
couraged in  the  attainment  of  the  good,  and  in  the  resistance  of  the  bad.  For,  notwithstand- 
ing all  earthly  distress,  and  all  obstacles,  the  good  is  within  reach  of  all.  With  due  attention 
and  circumspection  false  steps  may  be  avoided,  if  errors  are  laid  open. 

Humanity  considered  as  man  developing,  and  history  as  the  macrocosm  of  man — 
so  that  man  is  conceived  as  the  microcosm  of  both,  the  natural  and  the  ideal  (ethical) 
cosmos— will  deliver  into  our  hands  the  key  to  both  worlds  in  the  human  person.  Man's 
personal  character  will  then  reflect  from  his  surroundings,  from  improvements  made^ 
from  the  way  his  environment  are  cultivated  or  influenced  by  him,  instead  of  the 
environments  determining  his  fortune.  The  shaping  of  man's  private  and  civil  af- 
fairs is  laid  into  his  own  hands.  The  elevation  of  nature,  by  pressing  it  into  his 
service,  that  is,  by  making  nature  cooperative  in  her  own  elevation,  will  then  be 
beautifully  illustrated.  Wildernesses  become  transformed  into  festive  grounds  of 
world's  exhibitions,  or  into  ideal  resorts  of  idyl  life:  into  the  imitations  of  paradise^ 
called  parks  after  it;  into  orchards  with  choice  fruits  to  sweeten  life,  and  flower 
gardens  to  adorn  it. 

Man's  esthetics  become  refined  with  his  ethics,  but  of  course,  not  vice  versa.  His 
ethics  will  be  purified  by  the  true  aspect,  appreciation,  and  acceptance  of  the  Supreme 
Good,  until  civilisation  in  its  noblest  sense  becomes  his  habit,  his  second  nature,  in- 
dividually and  collectively.  Hence  the  singular  importance  of  every  individual 
member  of  humanity.  For  not  only  the  day  is  given  to  him  or  her,  but  also  the  op- 
portunity for  higher  attainments,  which  self  interest  should  teach  him  to  use  properly 
for  the  good  of  others  also.  Not  only  does  he  exert  some  influence  for  good  or  evil^ 
which  spreads  (the  latter  more  rapidly  according  to  a  mysterious,  subnatural  law)  in 
smaller  or  larger  undulations,  but  he  also,  in  great  part,  helps  to  mold  the  weal  or 
woe  of  coming  generations.  The  development  of  potentialities  in  the  human  person 
is  repeated  in  all  directions  throughout  human  history,  hence  history  must  be  concei- 
vable as  man  unfolded,  explicated,  explained,  extended,  (the  truth  in  Spinozism). 
The  initiative  required  for  new  steps  of  progress  is  to  be  taken  from  a  sense  of  personal 
duty. 

This  explains  why  true  advance  of  a  nation  under  abolition  of  inhumane  practices,  why 
social  reforms  etc.  can  not  be  expected  from  the  masses.  That  is  the  duty  of  those  to  whom 
the  principles  of  the  higher  life  were  transmitted  most  f'elicitously ;  in  whom  the  contiiuiity 
and  unity  of  consciousness  have  become  crystalised,  as  it  were,  so  as  to  form  the  vital  part  of 
their  being ;  while  the  masses  will  resist  laws  restrictive  to  selfish  and  natural  inclinations, 
and  will  vote  for  laws  for  others  to  obey.  It  is  the  tendency  toward  generalness  which 
schemes  at  class-legislation. 

Stages  of  advance  must  proceed,  not  from  the  oneness  or  generalness  of  nature,  but 
from  the  oneness  of  the  spiritual  world  of  which  individuality  is  a  characteristic  at- 
tribute by  way  of— the  deliverance  of  each  personality  from  the  natural-state. 
Christianity  was  planted  and  is  to  be  propagated  only  in  this  way.    Take  the  develop- 


I.  A.  Ch.  IV.  §  12.      HARMONIOUS  DEVELOPMENT  INTO  CHARACTER.  SI 

ment  of  a  person.    In  the  first  years  of  life  natural  propensities  predominate,  altho  personality  deTeiopin« 
little  by  little  traces  of  moral  and  mental  potentialities,  of  the  union  of  soul  and  facuUierMo^uberated 
spirit,  that  is,  of  mind,  become  apparent.    Special  features  of  future  combinations  of  generainess* 
temperament  and  character  assert  themselves,  even  sparks  of  genius.    Appetites  gov-  Relative  purity  of 
ern  the  will  until  judgment  gets  the  upper  hand.    Physical  obstruction,  restraint,  or  '='^'"'>°*><* 
compulsion  sets  the  will  free;  the  word  sets  reason  free; conscience  emancipates  itself  5 nme*r  SSme^^t 
from  reason,  while  the  moral  sense  is  yet  more  vivid  than  the  mental  capacities;  con- 

'  *^  ^  ^  under  practice  on  the 

science  becomes  distinct  from  other  sentiencies  or  emotions,  and  in  case  of  contradic-  ""*""'  */Pu  "l*"f 

Import  of  the  latter 

tion,  it  indignantly  withdraws.    For  it  is  questionable  whether  love  and  conscience  in  j'p«"  *^t*>'«  and  upon 
their  orignality  and  relative  purity  are  ever  more  undefiled  and  vivid  than  in  early  genesis  of 
childhood.    At  first  the  natural  predispositions  and  spiritual  capabilities  are  not  yet  ^^"^sw.^fsaf m,  is* 
differentiated.    Incitements  from  the  outside  world  under  the  discipline  of  attention, 
imitation,  education,  must  aid  in  setting  the  faculties  free,  according  to  the  ethical 
condition  of  cooperation  of  the  lower  state  in  its  being  guided  on  to  the  higher. 

This  is  the  significance  of  the  natural  apparatus  not  only  with  respect  to  the  ethic- 
al task,  but  also  in  respect  to  the  genesis  of  consciousness  and  to  moral  deportment.  hVeTsphere" 
But  task  and  apparatus  do  not  alone  procure  the  deliverence  of  the  mind.    The  dif-  '=°'''^'*'°''^*^ 
ferentiation  of  the  faculties  goes  on  also  under  the  other  condition,— to  which  the  dis-  ^enTunder%^uÄion 
cipline  at  the  apparatus  is  only  preparatory  and  mediative,— of  receiving  and  accept-  ^'^^^^^'e^d^^^^nteu 
ing  influences  from  the  higher  sphere  of  permanence  and  unity.    Thus  the  manifesta- 
tions of  self  consciousness  ripen  into  internal  character  and  external  adaptness  and 
conduct.    The  more  harmonious  the  endowments  of  the  mind  are  disciplined  to  bal- 
ance each  other,  and  the  more  habitually  the  moral  and  mental  activities  are  regulat-  Sner^personaf"* 
ed  by  the  spiritual  concomitants,      the  better  will  a  person  be  fitted  to  overcome  the  and  normal 
obstacles  and  adverse  circumstances  arising  from  the  natural  sphere;  and  the  more  extendeW.^" 
virtuously,  serenely     will  the  person  fill  his  place  in  the  cooperative  order  of  so-  ^^^  ^^' 

cial  life.  To  be  sure,  such  normal,  proportionate  development  is  rare,  very  rare.  The 
combined  process  of  it,  called  civilisation,  advances  slowly,  under  difficulties  increas- 
ing with  differentiation  growing  more  complicated,  intricate  and  subtile.  Thus,  one- 
sided cultures  are  generated  in  which,  as  a  matter  of  course,  nations  participate. 

Reason  and  discipline  cultivated  at  the  expense  of  feeling',  produced  the  Roman  char- 
acter and  the  Kantian  frame  of  mind.    Aesthetics  and  imagination  cultivated  at  the  expense 
of  ethics,  preduces  Greeks,  Frenchmen,  and  Goethe.    Speculation  and  resignation  at  the  Examples  of 
expense  of  the  will,  are  the  stamp  of  the  Hindoos  and  Schoperhauer ;   legal  sense  at  the  one-sided  cultures 
expense  of  love,  produces  Pharisees,  Moors  and  fanatics.    Emphasising  faith  without  love,  o/feeUng—Roman"*^ 
deadens  a  church ;   love  without  fidelity,  ruins  the  family,  the  hearthstone  of  the  state.  Esthetics  at  the  expense 
Being  busy  with  the  whole  world  from  selfish  interests  will  sharpen  the  calculative  trend  of  **  ®*  *"*     "*  " 
Carthage   and  Venice.    Much  urbanity  but  no  patriotism,   developes  to   only  that  sort  of 
public-mindedness  which  has  its  eye  upon  a  golden  upper  crust.    Abandonment  of  mind  and 
heart  for  thesake  of  the  stomach,  will  create  a  populace  crying  for  "bread  and  circuses  "  at  all 
times ;  brutes  who  will  overthrow  law  and  order,  crush  authority  and  superiority,  and  demol- 
ish what  they  cannot  rebuild,  as  they  have  done  in  yonder  city  once  in  a  while.    For  we  had 
barbarians  not  so  much  in  the  Hercynian  forest  as  in  that  town  which  used  to  march  at  the 
head  of  civilisation,  prescribing  "refined"  fashions  to  the  world  for  centuries.    And  even  in 
some  great  towns  nearer  home,  we  find  lower  and  upper  strata  of  arrested  life,  under  the 
influence  of  mean  spirits. 

For  this  reason  of  defective,  onesided  culture  we  cannot  philosophise  about  history  upon  _,.,       .      -  „. »  _ 

„,,  ,,,,  .,  ..  T-.-.    ,  ...  .         Philosophy  of  History 

crutches  of  calendar-schedules  and  social  statistics.      Higher  topics  and  larger  categories  must  avoid 
must  be  systematised,  instead  of  cutting  up  history  into  centuries,  localities,  anecdotes  and  one-sidedness. 
details.    History  digested,  is  not  to  build  screens  of  generalness  for  the  individual  to  hide  Questionable  education. 
himself,  but  to  bring  out  the  truth  of  individual  culture,  which  is  more  than  the  training  or 
good  breeding  now  called  "education."    History  moving  in  cycles,  measured  out  in  heaven, 
and  concentric  with  eternity,  must  not  be  considered  in  a  one-sided  and  narrow  manner. 

In  expanse,  the  civilisation  of  the  Twentieth  Century  for  which  we  must  get 
ready,  will,  Deo  volente,  surpass  that  of  any  previous  period.  But  whether  it  will 
make  human  happiness  more  general  without  increasing  misery  in  extensive  pro- 
portions also  ;  whether  it  will  intensify  civilisation  on  the  line  of  true  ethical  per-  fhe^xplnJe Ärcuitua 
sonal  culture,  and  not  at  the  expense  of  genuine  culture— these  are  the  problems,  prowematicai'**'"'' 
Their  solution  depends  on  the  deliverance  of  personal  life  from  the  generalness  of 
the  natural  sphei'e,  depends  on  the  practice  of  personal  excellency  which  will  have 
to  be  qualified  for  encountering  the  baseness  of  that  sphere,  which  is,  for  the  sake  of 
generality  and  from  its  nature,  inimical  to  excellency.  Philosophy  of  History  has  to 
find  out  the  onesided  tendency  of  culture,  and  to  give  warning. 


u 


FUTILE  METHOD  TO  OBTAIN  AN  IDEAL. 


1.  A.  CH.  IV.  §  13. 


Personal  excel- 
lency tested  by 
encountering  the 
enmity  of  the 
sphere  of 
generalness. 


Futility  of 
arranging  a 
System  by  which 
humanity  in 
general  could  be 
comprehended 
from  typical 
specimens  of 
times  and 
nations. 


Cabltle, 
Lavatkk, 

JOU.  V.  MiLLKB. 


All  earthly  fame 

would  not  suffice  to 
fashion  a  satisfactory 
pattern  of  true 
bumanity. 


Proto-type  of 
humanity. 

Sec.  9, 12,  35,  92,105,  117, 
120,  233. 


The  seer's  vision. 


Impossibility  to 
compose  the 
proto-type  or 
ideal  man  by 
reason  or 
imagination. 

^usssAU.  Sec.  12. 


It  must,  therefore,  guard  itself  against  onesidedness  and  dead  dogmatism.  Hon- 
est and  sober  and  circumspect,  it  must  qualify  itself  for  pointing  out  the  way  to 
prosperity,  and  the  goal  of  progress  ;  it  must  throw  light  upon  it  from  above,  and 
gain  the  confidence  due  an  experienced  guide.  It  must  be  critical,  theoretical,  and 
realistic  in  the  study,  in  order  to  build  up  a  consistent  world-theory  and  thus  enable 
itself  to  give  practical  hints  to  the  schools,  and  to  Houses  of  Parliaments. 

§  13.  History  has  brought  to  light  what  is  in  men.  The  natural  grounds,  occupied 
by  all  men  in  common,  afford  every  possible  opportunity  which  develop  formations 
as  various  and  innumerable  as  those  of  the  oceans  and  the  atmosphere.  As  one  tree, 
in  aspiring  to  the  light,  spreads  its  top  more  than  another,  while  at  the  same  time 
its  ramifications  spread  in  the  ground  and  go  deeper  for  nourishment,  still  resembles 
other  trees  whose  common  mother  is  the  earth,  just  so  mankind  multiply  their  rela- 
tions and  wants,  invent  contrivances  to  satisfy  them,  diversify  their  aspirations  and 
occupations,  and  yet  always  bear  the  same  stamp.  Theoretically,  nothing  would  be 
in  the  way  to  exhibit  the  stages  of  development  by  a  specimen  of  each  nation,  and 
to  combine,  as  Carlyle  would  have  it,  such  types  into  a  system  or  a  scheme  of  uni- 
versal progress. 

This  was  Lavater's  idea  when  he  collected  his  pictures  of  typical  physiognomies.  He 
attempted  to  show  to  some  contemporaries  what  time  it  was  in  the  world,  whether  1794  A.  D. 
or  1894  B.  C. ;  but  Lavater  and  phrenology  would  by  such  means  show  it  as  little  as  a  clock 
can  do  it.  Such  a  construction  would  lead  to  the  same  result  which  Joh.  v.  Miller  arrived  at, 
after  he  had  summoned  the  manes  of  heroes  and  rulers,  of  thinkers  and  speakers,  for  examin- 
ation. "And  now  Ye  giants  with  beasts  in  your  escutcheons.  Ye  of  old  pedigree,  looking  up  to 
us  from  cathedral-crypts  and  down  upon  us  from  ruined  castle- portals:  Ye  eonquerers  from 
Memlebenand  Westminster;  Thou  enchanted  Hohenstauffen  in  Thy  Kyffhaeuser;  Ye  holy 
eminencies  from  Peter's  tomb;  Caesars  and  barbarians  with  stiff  necks;  Kings  with  your  once 
many-crowned  skulls  under  your  once  mighty  arms ;  Ye  councilors  of  popes,  and  Ye  beauties 
once  ruling  them  and  ruining  their,  countries;  Ye  scholars  with  laurels  upon  your  high  fore- 
heads and  with  august  frowns ;  all  Ye  majesties  in  fields  of  sciences ;  all  Ye  leaders  in  bloody 
battle-fields  stand  up !  Who  were  Ye?  Human  beings  of  high  qualities?  Rarely.  Noblest  of 
characters  ?  A  dozen  at  best  out  of  your  thousand  names.  Were  Ye  the  disposers  of  the  fates 
of  billions  of  people,  avengers  of  wrong  and  vanquishers  of  the  bad,  protectors  of  the  weak — 
or  were  Ye  mere  drivers  of  men  ?— O  lie  down  again !  Tools  Ye  were,  with  the  maddest  of 
passions  some  of  you !  Wheels  Ye  were,  nothing  more,  wheels  in  the  great  clock-work  of 
time,  just  like  others  far  more  numerous  than  Ye,  only  less  notorious  here  beneath,  through 
whose  interactions  the  Ancient  One  on  High  moved  the  hands  of  the  clock  of  the  world.  It 
does  not  yet  show  time  to  adjourn  for  final  judgment.  We  must  wait  as  Ye  must,  and  we  must 
lie  low  down  like  Ye  !    Lie  down  again  !" 

A  construction  of  history  of  this  sort,  as  we  will  find  again  with  Carlyle,  may 
yield  poetical  satisfaction  ;  but  humanity  as  a  body,  if  contemplated  as  such  a  me- 
chanical unity,  is  torn  asunder  in  a  manner  as  to  freeze  out  its  heart.  In  putting  it 
together  again,  we  need  to  be  careful  to  save  the  dignity,  freedom,  and  personality  of 
humanity. 

Without  much  art  it  has  been  demonstrated  as  the  object  of  history  to  unfold  the 
whole  of  man's  nature  to  full  view,  and  hence  as  the  task  of  our  science  to  summar- 
ise the  meaning  of  all  the  contents  thus  revealed,  and  to  reduce  it  to  a  unitary  per- 
sonality. Our  curiosity  has  been  aroused  for  a  comprehensive  glance  at  such  a  per- 
son by  reviewing  "  personal  life  "  in  the  inductive  method  and  the  deductive.  The 
first  philosopher  of  history  who  received  such  a  vision  saw  the  contents  of  human  de- 
velopment represented  in  the  figure  of  a  person  made  of  metals.  At  the  proper  time 
we  shall  introduce  that  seer  and  his  vision. 

But  since  that  visionary  figure  can  not  be  recognised  as  the  typical  man,  who 
can  be  the  one  who  would  completely  answer  the  image?  Who  is  so  perfectly  fitted 
to  represent  the  ideal  of  each  of  us  as  to  be  recognised  at  once  and  by  all?  How  is 
the  picture  to  be  composed  as  to  light  and  shade  and  tone  of  color?  Considering  the 
thousand-fold  caricatures  and  mutilations  to  which  the  human  frame  and  mind  are 
subject,  when  not  even  an  Apollo  or  a  Venus  would  suit  everybody  as  a  model— how 
is  the  typical  and  ideal  image  to  be  conceived?  From  whence  would  the  standard 
and  normal  measure  have  to  be  taken?  Whence  the  rule,  to  begin  with,  for  singling 
out  and  putting  together  the  main  features  only  of  all  that  is  worthy  and  sublime 
enough  to  answer  your  ideal  and  mine,  and  to  be  respected  universally,  into  a  mere 
mosaic— to  say  nothing  of  the  adaptability  of  a  person,  thus  theoretically  composed. 


I.  A.  CH.  V.  §  14.  LIMITATIONS  OF  THE  SPECIFIC  EMPIRIC  SCIENCES.  35 

and  if  actually  realisable,  for  this  rough  life?    Rousseau  said,  the  one  who  could  in- 

vent  such  a  picture,  even  if  merely  wrought  out  in  the  shape  of  a  simple  biography,  noftoSe^nvented 

would  need  be  deemed  God  himself. 

And  where,  if  that  ideal  image  of  man  was  really  discovered  and  exhibited, 
where  would  the  standpoint  have  to  be  chosen  for  its  admiration?  What  would  be 
the  criterion  required  for  duly  appreciating  it  without  bias  and  without  wild  reverie? 

At  a  more  suitable  occasion  we  shall  take  up  these  questions.  But  since  there 
must  have  existed  one  primitive  man,  carrying  within  him  the  type  of  the  human 
race  (so  far  as  we  are  allowed  to  go  back  according  to  our  agreement  in  Sec.  12  with- 
out provoking  the  suspicion  of  reasoning  in  favor  of  a  foregone  conclusion),  then 
tliere  was  latent  in  this  truly  human  person  the  whole  project,  the  image  and  theme 

°  Continuation  of  the 

of  human  history.  discussion  in  chs.  i  & 

To  listen  to  the  accords  and  discords  of  this  theme,  to  the  music  in  the  spheres 
of  the  eons,  through  many  variations,  but  ever  with  a  harmonious  solution  like  the 
most  sublime  symphony— this  is  our  conception  of  the  Philosophy  of  History. 

CH.  5.— THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  HISTORY  versus  UNSATISFACTORY  INTER- 
PRETATIONS OF  HISTORY. 

Note.— With  reference  to  the  position  of  our  science  we  are  obliged  to  solicit  patience  for 
a  few  moments.  It  is  necessary  to  dwell  a  little  longer  on  that  position,  so  as  to  gain  the  epis- 
temological  aspect  under  which  to  enter  the  system  proper.  The  present  remarks  stand  con- 
nected with  those  in  the  first  and  second  chapters,  which  had  to  be  postponed  until  the  disqui- 
sition with  the  sciences  on  physics  and  metaphysics  might  clear  up  the  wrangle,  so  as  to  con- 
front us  with  the  real  object  of  the  contenftoni.  We  thereby  were  furnished  with  the  material 
or  coeflBcients  to  be  considered.  We  like  to  take  from  the  fullness  thereof  and  let  the  conclu- 
sion follow  as  the  natural  result.  Each  of  the  empiric 

§  14.    The  question  next  in  order,  therefore,  is  :    How  is  philosophy  to  be  ren-  language,  and  Lw- 

,.,,.,.  .  .  .  „  has  its  limits; 

dered  applicable  m  subservience  to  a  comprehensive  interpretation  of  history? 

Each  empiric  science,  of  either  nature,  or  law,  or  language,  deals  with  a  specific 
object  of  which  we  can  have  subjective  experience.  Experience  alone  entitles  a  the- 
oretical construction  of  the  particular  subject  to  a  claim  of  objective  weight  and  sig- 
nificance. The  establishment  of  the  objective  truth  is  the  reason  for,  and  the  purpose 
of,  theorising  ;  it  is  the  privilege  of  science  and  its  vocation. 

But  the  empiric  sciences,  notwithstanding  the  experiences,  have  to  build  upon 
first  principles  universally  granted,  altho,  perhaps,  not  empirically  explicable,  such  buiws  on  univewais, 
äs  the  immutability  of  space,  the  continuity  of  time,  or  the  universality  of  right,  l«  us^d'oS!"'"  ''"^'^ 
etc.  Natural  sciences,  for  instance,  take  it  for  granted,  that  there  exists,  apart  from 
the  mind,  an  objective,  corporeal,  visible,  and  tangible  world.  Without  such  presup- 
positions the  sciences  stand  in  the  air  ;  they  are  hanging  in  the  wind— especially 
that  of  jurisprudence— of  current  opinions  swaying  the  times.  Likewise  does  his- 
toric science  presuppose  that  at  some  time  this  or  that  happened,  whether  we  were 
present  or  not,  and  regardless  of  our  opinion  about  it.  But  neither  of  these  sciences 
is  able  to  substantiate  its  allegations  relative  to  any  first  cause  or,  as  the  case  may 
be,  to  any  secondary  effect,  or  to  time,  or  to  substance,  etc.,— conditions  which  are 
Irrelevant  to  the  theory  erected  into  the  framework  of  first  principles. 

Other  empirical  sciences  which  could  prove  or  disprove  doctrines  by  facts,  we 
have  none ;  provided  we  are  allowed  to  classify  Mathematics  with  Metaphysics  on  the  „f 'theTaÄ  of"**^*^ 
same  grounds  that  we  claim  language  as  belonging  to  the  histories.    We  therefore  '"««"«'»^e " 
state :  each  science  in  demanding  objective  and  authoritative  validity  for  its  theory, 
must  concede  a  partial  disability  to  acquire  or  to  adduce  full  proof  of  the  reality  of 
its  knowledge.    Each  contains  something  of  the  nature  of  "  nescience  ",  of  the  "  posse 
nescire  ";  each  is  confined  to  a  more  or  less  limited  domain  of  knowledge,  each  suf- 
fering from  incompleteness,  or  from  breaks,  or  some  hiatus  on  account  of  some  de- 
ficiency or  other,  not  to  be  supplemented  from  its  own  resources.    Hence  each  stands 
in  need  of  a  certain  "transcendental  equation  ",  as  it  were,  of  what  the  astronomers  S!Eficien°yTrom its 
call  the  "  equation  of  the  center."    None  of  these  sciences  can  vindicate  its  presup-  ^^"at'ion  "of  «ie  center. 
positions  unless  it  overreaches  the  terfninals  and  terminology  of  its  own  domain  and  s«"-  ^^■ 

thereby  ceases  to  be  that  "  exact  science."    It  certainly,  to  say  the  least,  forfeits  the 
right  to  dogmatise  on  a  world-theory. 


36 


philosophy:  the  umpire  among  sciences.       I.  A.  Ch.  v.  §  li 


Philosophy  the  umpire. 


Aversion  of  the 
"Eiupirics"  t.<  n  i)re- 
dominaiit  position  of 
Metaphysics. 

Epistemology.        Sec.  11 


Wisseiischafts-Lehre. 

MVRRAV. 


Dependence  of  Phil. 
Hist,  upon  scientific 
and  historic  specialties. 


Philosophy  not  to  make 
laws,  not  to  impose 
principles. 

BOWNE. 


What  duty  is  history  as 
a  science  to  discharge. 


Settling  accouijts  with 
"Agnosticism." 


Remonstrance  against 
the  standing  and 
sneering  prutest  as  to 
"Unknowable"  under 
cover  of  which  a  false 
•world-theory  is 
Imposed. 


Peuerbach'«   conclusions 
from  Agnosticism  in 
Political  £conomy. 


The  complement  required  by  each  is  to  be  afforded  by  another,  whereby  a  general 
and  comparative  science  is  achieved  whose  duty  it  is  to  find  reasons,  to  make  "ab' 
stracts,"  as  it  were,  warranting  the  sacredness  of  the  terminals,  and  the  clearness  of 
the  title,  stating  the  encumbrances  pending  and  the  derivation  of  principles  from 
other  sciences;  and  sanctioning  the  legitimacy  of  their  application —lest  one  theory 
may  steal  a  march  on  the  other.  This  science,  defining  the  cognitions  underlying 
each,  and  proving  their  true  relationship  with  impartiality,  is  Philosophy,— the  um- 
pire. 

There  is  a  certain  aversion  noticeable  to  such  superintendency  and  surveillance 
on  the  part  of  Metaphysics;  the  "Sciences"  seem  agreed  to  set  up  "Epistemology"  of 
late,  in  order  to  put  it  in  the  place  which  Logic  since  Locke's  time  occupied,  and 
wliich  is  now  said  to  be  vacated  because  of  the  mixed-up  condition  of  antiquated  Log- 
ics. Epistemology  is  to  show  that  philosophy,  too,  is  superfluous  on  the  strength  of 
the  self-sufficiency  of  Physiological  Psychology.  The  Logics  of  old  thus  modified  may 
suit  well  enough  to  supplant  the  name  of  "Mental  Philosophy;"  but  all  of  that  is  not 
what  we  mean  by  the  Philosophy  of  Sciences— Wissenschafts-lehre. 

Says  Murray  of  Montreal:  "Philosophy  is  precisely  'the'  endeavor  to  bring  our 
knowledge  to  complete  unification.  And  while  it  must  oppose  any  attempt  to  reach 
this  end  by  hasty  generalisations,  it  can  not  rest  satisfied  with  a  recognition  of  prin- 
ciples in  such  complete  independence,  as  to  bar  the  way  against  their  being  brought 
under  some  superior  principle  which  comprises  them  all." 

Such  independence  however  is  forestalled  by  the  experience  made  in  the  intui- 
tionalistic  schools  of  Germany.  Philosophy  depends  upon  the  two  empirical  sciences 
which  it  deems  neither  inferior  nor  superior,  the  natural  and  the  historical.  The 
function  of  philosophy  is  not  as  Bowne  thinks,  to  "make  laws."  It  is  not  "obvious  that, 
because  philosophy  cannot  borrow  its  principles  from  the  other  sciences,  it  must  im- 
pose its  own  principles  upon  them.'*  On  the  other  hand,  philosophy  is  not  simply  to 
engage  in  surveying  the  government's  lands,  as  it  were,  to  map*  out  the  sections 
and  the  roads  by  which  the  harvest  is  to  be  gathered  in,  or  to  locate  the  mills  where 
the  grain  is  to  be  garnered  and  ground.  That  is  to  say,  philosophy  is  not  so  much  to 
describe  nor  to  prescribe,  the  brain-work  in  the  derivation  of  first  principles  upon 
which  agreements  are  facilitated,  but  rather  to  explain  the  origin  of  ideas  held  in 
common  and  their  subsequent  application  in  either  causing  on  interpreting  facts  and 
phenomena  of  spiritual  as  well  as  physical  life. 

Of  course,  exception  here  may  be  taken  again  on  the  part  of  some  savants  against, 
our  combining  the  physical  with  the  spiritual  under  the  standing  protest  that  the  lat, 
ter  was  "unknowable."  This  incessant  assertion  may  be  renunciated  with  the  remarl^ 
that  Materialism  is  welcome  to  act  as  tho  it  had  nothing  to  do  with  it.  Whether  it 
honestly  ignores  the  spiritual  altogether  and  can  get  along  without  it,  is  no  concern 
of  ours.  We  think  naturalism  per  se  has  enough  already  of  what  it  does  not  know, 
let  alone  the  spiritual  world  and  our  experiences  of  it.  But  this  cannot  induce  us  to 
waive  our  right  and  freedom  of  inquiry. 

Philosophy  congratulates  Science  in  its  endeavor  to  establish  monistic  naturalism 
or  natural  monism,  provided  it  does  not  promulgate  immature  results  as  an  all-sufli- 
cient  view  of  life  and  as  "the"  correct  world-theory.  The  Philosophy  of  History  only 
asks  in  return,  whether  it  is  to  be  blamed  for  taking  cognizance  of  matters  which 
have  been  the  talk  of  men  throughout  at  least  forty  centuries  ?  A  standing  and 
sneering  protest  against  the  "  Unknowable  "  is,  in  its  fidgetiness,  a  sympton  of  the 
weakness,  indigency  and  willful  nescience  of  materialistic  evolutionism;  it  is  an 
admission  of  that  one-sidedness  which  not  only  refuses  to  listen  to  honest  advances 
of  conciliatory  correspondence,  but  which  ever  generates  intolerance  and  fanaticism» 

We  do  not  rebuke  naturalistic  monism  for  its  incompleteness  and  deficiencies,  but  we 
condemn  the  arrogance  with  which,  in  spite  of  this  concession,  it  decrees  to  the  public,  that 
its  dogmas  are  incontrovertable  truths,  that  they  prove  all  spiritual  corollaries  and  co- 
efficients to  be  at  least  insignificant  and  therefore  nugatory,  if  not  dangerous.  Feuerbach 
for  one  drew  these  conclusions  with  great  force  and  fervor,  and  he  now  has  scores  of  dis- 
ciples misrepresenting  the  German  nation  in  its  Reichstag.  Such  popularity  shows  the 
secret  of  the  impudence  with  which  the  public  is  imposed  upon,  which  is  in  keeping  with  the 
poverty  of  that  kind  of  thought  defined  as  mere  phosphorescence  of  brain  matter.  It  shows 
the  dishonesty  of  Agnostics  for  reasons  well  known  to  themselves,  reasons  which  do  not  like 


A  I.  Ch  V.  §  14.  PHILOSOPHY  FORMS  THE  CRITERION.  37 


to  get  an  airing-  and  to  be  unmasked.    But  this  justifies  our  reproach,  previously  expressed  uateriaiistio  Sociology 
in  the  statement  that  they  have  forfeited  their  claim  upon  science  and  their  title  of  being    disavowed  by 
scientific,  since  real  science  can  not  pose  in  a  simulated  attitude  of  unconcern  and  leisure,  as   ^*'"'*^  *"*  Vibchow. 
long  as  not  all  is  rendered  intelligible  that  is  present  in  history  as  an  efiicient  or  an  effect. 
Our  attitude,  in  withdrawing  scientific  courtesy  from  materialistic  monism,  is  justified  by 
none  less  than  Tyndall  himself,  since,  in  his  settlement  of  the  controversy  with  Virchow,  he 
discountenances  the, agitation  of  unqualified  journalists,  who,  to  the  chagrin  of  the  great 
searcher  after  truth,  prejudice  science  as  being  an  ally  to  social-democracy. 

Empiricismmay  certainly  have  its  reasons  for  its  animosity  toward  the  spiritual.  ^^  .^.^^   ^^^ 
We  need  not  cast  this  up  to  it  as  an  imputation.    But,  if  it  denies  philosophy  the  ferring 
right  of  umpire,  and  the  acknowledgment  of  being  a  science,  then  we  can  only  certSud™*** 
make  allowance  and  account  for  its  clamor  to  exclude  Metaphysics  by  averring  that 
empiricism  prefers  scepticism  to  certainty!    In  the  meanwhile.  Philosophy  is  not 
thus  cheaply  to  be  ruled  out.    As  yet  it  is  included  in  the  college  of  sciences.    And  it 
need  not  be  ashamed  of  taking  full  cognizance  of  the  spiritual  world,  where  after  Jound^ÄTsSruuat 
all,  and  nowhere  else,  the  synthesis  of  true  monism  is  to  be  found.    But  on  account  «y^^^esis. 
of  its  very  relationship  and  inner  nature  it  forces  itself  upon  nobody,  merely  rising 
in  defence  of  certainty  and  of  freedom. 

Philosophy  already  is,  and  has  been  for  a  long  time,  engaged  with  the  postulates  phnos.  the  criterion 
and  premises  of  the  common  truth,  namely,  that  the  particulars  require  the  univers-  apprehension*"**'''* 
als — the  primum  cognitum  Leibnitz  would  say — for  their  explanation.  Of  this  gen- 
eral comprehensiveness  and  scientific  consistency  it  is  the  criterion  and  discipline.  It 
aspires  to  bring  all  knowledge  to  a  unity  in  which  contradiction  is  silenced.  It  de- 
fends the  comprehensibility  of  everything  connected  with  personal  life  (i.  e.,  with 
natural  spiritual  life),  with  human  nature,  as  we  shall  say  henceforth,  emphasising  the 
adjective  human.  It  also  defends  the  ability  of  the  mind  (i.  e.  the  synthesis  of  soul 
and  spirit,  not  merely  that  of  the  intellectual  or  mental  faculties),  to  understand  its 
position  and  to  comprehend  spiritual  manifestations. 

defends  the  compre- 

Now,  whenever  a  particular  branch  of  science  shall  assume  that  it  may  dodge  concern"^ °**"'^^**'^ 
such  discipline  and  still  appropriate  principles  not  belonging  to  it,  philosophy  will  "human  nature" ; 
detect  the  smugglery  and  will  denounce  the  false  use  of  the  filched  property.    The 
particular  science  thus  exposed  will  then,  of  course,  hate  philosophy  and'  cry  thief, 
so  as  to  divert  the  outsider's  attention.    But  the  unreasonable  hatred  alone  should  ^  .  ^  ^.     .  . .  „ 

defends  the  mind  in  its 

throw  suspicion  on  such  presumptuous  empiricism,  and  should  cancel  its  claim  of  [t^'^^osit'on"  ''''*^*'''*^'"* 
being  unbiased,  truthful,  and  trustworthy.    For,  if  any  science  stealthily  deals  with 
wrongfully  acquired  propositions,  whereby  it  tacitly  admits  their  value  as  general 
principles, -without  being  able  to  give  an  account  for  their  possession— how  can  we  be  ftTngprin^ipierri'ien 
sure  that  such  science,  tearing  the  general  and  true  principles  out  of  their  proper  the'*rvaiue?^'°'''^sec.2. 
connections,  made  proper  use  of  them  in  its  conclusions?    That  the  misapplied  prin- 
ciple is  true  in  the  premises  certainly  does  not  prove  the  truth  of  the  conclusions 
thus  erroneously,  if  not  surreptitiously,  obtained  for  deceptive  purposes. 

It  has  come  to  the  knowledge  of  history,  that  such  tricks  have  been  practiced.  It 
is  therefore  to  the  interest  of  all  the  sciences,  that  they  should  not  lose  their  credit  Sence^mli^tahTed. 
on  account  of  a  case  of  embezzlement  or  forgery  having  been  exposed  in  one  or 
another  quarter  of  the  domain  of  systematised  knowledge.  Any  branch  of  true  science 
therefore,  will  certainly  lend  its  support  to  a  responsible  auditor  who  examines  the 
vouchers.  For,  philosophy  in  itself  has  a  more  dignified  office  than  the  occasional 
detective-work  alluded  to.  It  aims  at  the  correctness  of  all  knowledge  as  a  wliole,  so 
that  out  of  its  conservatory  of  synthetic  rehearsals  the  particulars  of  a  special  branch-        .    .  .., 

,.    ,  ,  .    .  ,  „  .  «  Veracity  of  philo- 

science  may  receive  new  light  or  additional  confirmation  from  other  than  its  own  sophicai  judgments  to 

.  be  ascertained  by  the 

sources;  so  that  for  each  part  of  knowledge  it  can  be  decided,  satisfactorily  all  around,  l^'^^J^^^J'^i^^ces 
which  inferences  are  admissible;  so  that  each  in  the  concert  can  have  its  vouchers 
and  collaterals  sanctioned  as  testproof . 

In  turn  the  veracity  of  philosophy  can  thus  be  ascertained  likewise.  If  any 
general  axiom  does  not  cover  all  facts  brought  to  notice  by  any  experience  or  new 
discovery,  does  not  suffice  to  account  for  all  the  phenomena  observed  and  reported  by 
qualified  witnesses;  or  if  any  principle,  hitherto  held  as  an  axiom,  is  plainly  and 
successfully  contradicted:  then  that  conception  is  erroneous  and  needs  to  be  adjusted 
or  must  be  abandoned. 


38 


PHILOSOPHY  AS  THE  "CLEARING  HOUSE  " 


I.  A.  CH.  V.  §  li. 


Erroneous  axioms  to  b^ 
abandoned. 


The  umpire  an  expert. 


Contempt  of  empiricism 
by  the  idealists 
Avenged  by  Darwinism. 
Sec.  15 


Philosophy  is  to  the 
sciences  what  the 
clearing  house  is  to  the 
financial  world. 


Science  unable  to  prove 
ihe  congruity  of 
knowledge. 


"Contest  of  the 
faculties." 

SCHILLEK. 


All  sciences  to  be 
eo-ordinate. 


Phil,  not  to  be 
dictatorial; 


cot  to  be  sensitive  to 
criticism, 


This  occasionally  occurs;  but  philosophy  as  a  whole  is  not  overthrown  on  that  ac- 
count. Not  all  its  judgments  are  void  because  some  verdict  or  law  had  to  be  repealed 
after  better  information.  On  the  contrary,  philosophy  thus  corrected  is  rendered 
the  more  reliable.  Enriched  through  experience  it  is  the  better  enabled  to  give 
cautious  advice,  judicious  assistance,  and  just  decisions.  The  umpire  thereby  be- 
comes an  expert. 

When  and  why  does  philosophy  once  in  a  while  get  ofiP  the  track?  Perhaps  empirical 
sciences  did  not  furnish  correct,  perhaps  even  entirely  mistaken  data.  This  is  not  impossible. 
For  it  must  be  kept  in  mind,  that  philosophy  can  not  be  expected  to  leave  her  own  observ- 
atory or  court- room  in  order  to  find  out  particulars  which  within  her  own  domain  she  can 
not  find.  If  this  were  possible,  then  philosophy  would  be  the  only  science,  the  others  mere 
auxiliaries,  drummers  and  errand-boys ;  then  empirical  science,  aside  from  it,  would  not  be 
necessary.  Proud  Kantianism  and  Hegelianism  acted  in  that  manner  toward  the  scientific 
schools.  Darwinism  with  its  saucy  Spencers,  Feuerbachs,  and  Huxleys  caused  a  revision  by 
avenging  the  errors  of  the  former. 

Thanks  to  the  dual  tension  of  rational  life  the  usefulness  and  necessity  of 
philosophy  is  endorsed  so  much  the  stronger,  and  it  is  fully  restored  through  the  re- 
cent detections  of  its  fallacies.  It  could  not  have  made  the  blunders  if  it  had  not 
either  confided  too  much  in  the  facts  as  represented  by  scientists,  or  if  it  had  not  de- 
spised the  reality  of  things  beyond  the  horizon  of  reason  purged  of  those  things  be- 
tween "Heaven  and  earth"  with  which  Goethe  upbraided  them.  That  some  of  the  con- 
clusions from  defective  premises  were  found  wrong;  not  purposely  counterfeited,  and 
were  set  aright,  or  were  marked  spurious  and  set  out  of  value  and  circulation,  is  to  be 
accredited  to  the  philosophical  clearing-house. 

Just  as  impossible  as  philosophy  could  go  out  in  search  of  the  material  of  knowl- 
edge and  just  as  much  as  it  has  to  confide  in  the  empiric  reality  of  this  material, 
trusting  the  love  of  truth  and  keen  observations  of  scientific  experts,— just  as  little 
can  empiricism  find,  describe  and  prove  from  its  own  sources  the  general  congruity 
of  knowledge  thus  contributed  and  accumulating.  Both  have  to  work  together,  to 
take  notice  of  and  advice  from  each  other.  Confidence  must  strengthen  this  union 
despite  some  unavoidable  controversial  altercations;  and  the  good  fellowship  must 
not  be  allowed  to  turn  into  antagonism  by  the  occasional  boisterousness  of  a  col- 
league. Thus  "the  contest  of  the  faculties"  for  preeminence,  of  which  Schiller  spoke  a 
century  ago,  may  be  compromised;  and  the  good  understanding  will  not  be  shaken 
but  strengthened  when  inconsistencies  are  announced  immediately. 

It  is  not  so  much  the  sum  total  of  collected  experiences  and  evidences  (regardless, 
perhaps,of  their  intrinsic  value)  that  is  to  be  compared  and  booked;  but  it  is  rather 
the  equilibrium  established,  the  consistency  of  the  insight  gained,  which  elucidates 
the  truth  from  corroborative  evidences  brought  along  by  each  special  science,  under 
the  double  (inductive  and  deductive)  trial. 

On  this  line  the  negotiations  are  to  be  carried  on  to  the  exclusion  of  all  dictator- 
ial dogmatic  assertiveness.  Otherwise  philosophy  could,  in  one  case,  yield  but  life- 
less and  unprofitable  abstractions  of  doubtful  quality,  and  would  merely  be  tolerated 
for  amusement,  perhaps,  or  as  a  curiosity-shop.  In  the  other  case  philosophy  would 
render  herself  obnoxious  once  more.  If  history,  for  instance,  should  be  construed 
from  the  thought-afliliations  of  Spinoza-Hegel,  then  its  conception  would  run  out  as 
theirs  did,  namely,  with  the  infallibility  and  omnipotence  (that  is,  rather,  with  the 
preposterousness  and  impudence)  of  the  "idea."  It  behooves  philosophy  to  be  mod- 
est. Her  modesty  will  bear  the  test  in  that  she  is  not  oversensitive  to  criticism:  she 
virtually  will  court  it  and  even  criticise  herself,  so  as  to  maintain  her  competency, 
lest  she  be  pushed  aside  again  as  before. 

Both  empiric  sciences,  the  natural  and  the  historical,  needing  and  complementing 
each  other,  make  philosophy  indispensable,  and  rehabilitate  her  prestige  just  at  pres- 
ent, when  the  empirics  split  up  more  and  more  into  special  branches  and  often  over- 
load the  system.  Philosophy  for  this  very  reason  has  no  inclination  to  monopolise 
science;  it  stands  against  the  formation  of  esoteric  rings;  it  can  not  abuse  the  influ- 
ence of  its  necessary  control  and  connecting  power.  It  rejoices  over  every  advance, 
discovery,  and  successful  experiment  of  the  empirics,  because  it  thereby  becomes 
more  enriched  in  itself  and  over  better  equipped  to  serve  as  the  beacon-light  at  the 


I.  A.  CH.  V.  §  14.  ORGANISED  KNOWLEDGE  OF  HUMAN   NATURE  IN  ACTION.  39 

harbor  where  the  nations  communicate  and  exchange  their  goods;  to  serve  also  as  a  is  the  less  dispensable 
candle-holder,  occasionally,  for  some  who  dig  in  dark  shafts  to  bring  out  the  material  up^intostecfauiM*^"* 
that  affords  warmth  and  light. 

Philosophy  is  encouraged  again  by  the  feeling  of  satisfaction  from  being  appreci- 
ated.   Her  offices  are  certainly  worthy  of  esteem  at  the  present  time,  when  the  differ-  Sem  wLT^^^  **' 
entiation  of  the  social  organism  necessitates  not  only  "division  of  labor"  but  also  "or-  caiirfo"  °*  ^"^"'^ 
ganised  labor;"    and  when  a  rank  subjectivism   necessitates  the  laying  of  deeper  "''■■8a«sed labor. 
foundations  for  the  reverence  due  to  mental  and  moral  pre-eminence  and  authority. 
Else  that  peril  of  disintegration  would  befall  society  of  which  Goethe  already  gave 
warning  to  theorists: 

Die  Theile  habt  Ihr  in  der  Hand; 

Nur  fehlt  Euch  leider  das  geistige  Band. 

Physics,  Psychology  and  Epistemology  along  with  those  sciences,  which  are  in 
need  of  metaphysical  axioms,  have  a  natural  inclination  to  encroach  on  forbidden 
ground;  and  they  do  this  under  pretense  of  manufacturing  each  its  own  principles  by 
its  own  logics.  They  are  multiplying  and  treat  each  other  as  tho  each  had  the  ninety- 
nine-years  lease  of  the  whole  field  of  knowledge  for  itself;  as  tho  each  stood  for  the 
whole  organism  of  systematic  knowledge. 

Pride  and  jealousy  on  that  score  are  pardonable  as  the  natural  outgrowths  of  the 
enthusiasm  each  must  have  for  his  discipline  and  of  the  pedantry  which  is  almost  unavoidable 
in  the  schoolmasters' life.  But  the  stiff,  apodictic  contradictions  protruding  into  public  life 
in  our  age  of  hurry  and  brittle  paper,  of  inexperienced  reporters  and  satiated  or  perplexed 
readers,  make  the  literary  clearing-house  a  necessity,  where  the  circulation  is  watched  and 
value  is  made  legal  tender.  Whenever  shallowness  or  error  is  most  noisy  and  busy  in  making 
proselytes,  then  it  is  time  that  largeness  and  profundity  of  learning,  that  soundness  of  private 
judgment  and  adroitness  of  system  are  more  than  ever  to  be  insisted  upon  in  all  public 
institutions  and  especially  in  those  of  mental  and  moral  training. 

It  is  proper  to  predicate  of  the  animal  organism  that  it  contains  systems  of 
nerves  and  muscles,  of  circulation,  digestion,  etc.    In  order  to  understand  either  one 
of  them,  even  the  medical  specialist  is  obliged  to  bear  in  mind  that  the  various  sys- 
tems work  together  for  the  organism,  else  they  severally  collapse.    Their  functions  can  be 
observed  in  the  vital  state  alone,  that  is,  in  their  connection  among  themselves  by  Jhy  tfthiT  empin^c'^'^'*' 
means  of  the  whole.  So  must  the  WISSENSCHAFTS-LEHRE  be  more  than  a  schematic  „"^Sgourto 
presentation  of  the  contents  of  universal  knowledge,  for  schemata  are  not  systems,  **'^* 
much  less  organisms  of  interactive  systems.    Precisely  in  the  same  manner  as  our 
bodily  and  psychical  organisms  are  constituted  and  interwoven,  does  philosophy  rep- 
resent the  living  organism  of  harmonised  knowledge  with  its  many  systematised  syltemTin^thThuman 
sciences.    It  keeps  up  the  connection  and  preserves  the  health  and  vitality  of  the  two  ^°^^  *™°"^  ^''"^  *'*^*'- 
complicated  sciences  of  personal  life  as  manifested  in  nature  and  history. 

In  philosophy  the  observatory  is  established  from  which  the  movements  of  both,  sciences  as  laboratories, 

r  ^     >/  •'  y    philosophy  as  the 

nature  and  history,  can  be  properly  and  distinctly  espied.    Out  of  our  laboratories  obser^'atory. 

with  their  apparatus,  efficients,  and  agencies,  we  have  ascended  to  this  observatory. 

It  is  not  so  crowded  as  that  we  might  not  entertain  the  hope  of  being  understood,when 

we  enlarged  upon  the  necessity  of  the  Philosophy  of  History  as  being  the  philosophy  oi  philos^^J-'hunian^ 

human  nature  in  action.  "^^""^^ '"  **'*'°''  see.  le. 

The  sequel  may  demonstrate  the  propriety  of  its  pretensions,  where  it  requires 
less  selfdefence  and  selfpraise  in  the  measure  of  its  value  and  truth  becoming  more 
obvious.  Our  apology  for  the  selfrecommendation— which  was  deemed  necessary 
while  stating  the  position  and  project  of  our  work— is  based  upon  the  facts  that  ideal- 
istic philosophy  did  not  only  distort  history,  but  was  also  calumniated  and  ostracised,  phu."  of  hul. 

§  15.  Together  with  the  idealistic  construction  of  history  in  the  forepart  of  our 
century,  philosophy  itself  was  overthrown,  blown  down  by  the  storms  of  '48.  The  ex- 
cesses of  speculation  had  caused  a  general  derision  against  the  studies  of  things  of 
the  mind.  The  disregard  of  experimental  sciences  was  paid  back  with  more  than 
silent  contempt.  The  reaction  against  the  "  Identity-Philosophy "  was  one  of  those  of*'*/*'iritu"rthir^"**' 
recurrent  oscillations  in  history  whose  nature  we  will  have  a  chance  to  discuss  later 
on.  Men  let  go  of  the  a  prioris.  Scientific  problems  were  to  be  worked  out  without 
prejudgments.  This  was  well  enough.  But  that  the  scientists  of  natural,  and,  con- 
sidered of  course  as  the  vastly  more  practical,  knowledge  pretended  the  necessity  of 


40 


Gpizot's  "government 
of  religion." 
Intellectualism  identi- 
fied with  religion. 

Sec.  11,56,66. 


Intellectual  superiority 
together  with  al'  which 
came  from  above  was 
deemed  oppressive. 
Sec   11,56,58,66,  72.  95, 
98. 


Leveling  and  flattening 
of  thoughts. 


Criticism  of  the  pre- 
tentiousness of  colleges 
under  pressure  of  the 
analytical  method  of 
studying. 


Return  to  the 
"Humanistics  ' 


Settling  accounts  with 
modern  "Epistemology." 
cf .  Sec  14. 


Musing  and  thinking. 


Genesis  of  self- 
consciousness  and 
comprehension. ' 


"Nachtseite  des 
Seelenleben.«." 
"Sub-consciousness.' 


Term  intuition  ought 
not  tobe  applied  to 
reflective  function  of 
the  mind. 

BOWKE. 

Sec.  8,  10. 


"Unreflected 
consciou.sness." 

Sec.  8,  37,  113,  231. 


PHILOSOPHY  TO  BE  MORE  HUMANE.  I.  A.  CH.  V.  §  15. 

emancipating  their  investigation  from  the  "  oppression  "  of  spirituality  ( because  this 
was  suspected  as  being  identical  with  religion,  as  being  ecclesiastical  authority  in 
disguise,"  the  government  of  religion,"  upon  which  Guizot  enlarged)  ^that  was  the  re  • 
suit  of  jumping  from  false  premises  to  wrong  conclusions.  The  fact  is,  that  soul- 
life  was  mistaken  for  religion,  since  religion  had  been  misrepresented  by  rational- 
ism as  a  matter  of  mere  intellect.  Hence  all  mental  superiority  was  identified  with 
the  government  of  state-churchism,  wherein  religion  had  been  identified  with  reason 
and  a  cultivation  of  sentimentality.  Without  sufiicient  cause  all  "  intellectualism  " 
had  become  unpopular  ;  whatever  came  from  "  above  "  was  regarded  as  an  impugn- 
ment on  the  freedom  of  thought.  And  every  thought  had  to  be  flattened  out,  and  all 
science  put  to  such  a  level,  that  even  ignorance  and  mental  inertia  might  grasp  it. 
There  was  a  time  when  German  burghers  organised  "  Bildungs- Vereine  "  in  which 
"  Bildung  "  was  made  a  pretext  for  vulgarity. 

And  we  also  have  experimented  to  democratise  learnedness.  We  have  arrived  at  prac- 
tical times  with  a  largely  increased  number  of  special  studies,  in  the  enumeration  of  which 
college  catalogues  vie  to  excel  each  other;  with  which  the  students  are  overburdened  and 
inflated.  Analytical  studies  are  the  fashion— unaware  as  yet  of  the  truth,  that  analytical 
methods,  indispensable  in  the  realm  of  natural  sciences,  are  vitiating  all  those  studies  whiclt 
from  the  nature  of  the  spiritual  sphere  require  synthetical  treatment,  for  instance  languages.' 
Studies  requiring  a  lifetime  are  put  up,  cut  and  dried,  in  abridged  manuals,  which  are 
rushed  through  by  reading  and  reciting  so  many  pages  on  the  part  of  the  students.  It  is  not 
the  custom  with  us,  as  in  Europe,  that  the  student  goes  to  hear  Prof.—.  In  our  country  the  pro- 
fessor goes  to  hear  the  class.  It  takes  a  lifetime  to  study  experimental  psychology  or  similar 
specialities,  so  as  to  master  them,  and  to  become  able  to  experiment,  and  to  keep  abreast  with 
the  times.  Yet  schools  promise  to  imbue  students  with  them  in  a  "nutshell"  in  a  term  or 
two.  If  one  glances  at  the  books,  which  most  of  the  students  return  to  the  second-hand 
book- stores  after  the  close  of  the  term,  he  will  see  the  essential,  and  of  course,  more  diflBcult 
chapters  marked :  "omit."  In  the  latter  parts  of  these  books  he  scarcely  discovers  a  finger- 
mark; the  book  was  not  "read; "  the  term  was  too  short. 

Surely,  the  world  has  arrived  at  the  pinnacle  of  this  glorious  century  in  a  fin-de- 
siecle  spirit,  which  calls  for  the  restoration  of  philosophy,  that  is,  for  the  rehabilita- 
tion of  the  mind.  Less  "belle-letters,"  more  profound  ability  to  form  true,  judgment 
and  a  noble  character  are  now  in  demand.  It  is  said  that  even  the  better  medical 
schools  again  recognise  Metaphysics.  Perhaps  Anthropology,  too,  will  soon  be  rehabi- 
litated in  its  former  place  from  which  physiological  psychology  pushed  it  aside,  so 
that  man  becomes  better  acquainted  with  himself,  i.  e.  comes  to  himself  again,  and 
that  a  true  sociology  may  result  therefrom.  A  pressure  from  below  threatens  more 
danger  to  freedom,  to  love  of  fellow-men,  to  the  administration  of  justice,  in  short 
to  civilisation,  than  any  oppression  from  above  ever  did.  The  collision,  if  not  collapse, 
must  be  prevented  if  possible  by  removing  the  cause,  viz.:  inhumaneness. 

Note  :— We  touched  on  Epistemology,  and  on  Sociology  and  much  of  the  present  academic 
practice  not  with  the  intention  to  offend.  The  discussion  on  the  genesis  and  formation  of 
thought,  and  about  the  organism  of  knowledge  perhaps,  might  have  been  carried  through  to 
the  conclusion  when  in  the  preceding  chapter  the  relation  of  our  science  to  Metaphysics  was 
ventilated.  But  the  few  sections  intervening  had  to  intercede  in  order  to  show  what  stand  we 
take  in  regard  to  Epistemology.  This  part  of  the  anthropological  investigation,  presently  to 
be  resumed,  will  organically  lead  over  to  the  following  division. 

Musing  and  thinking  are  different  phases  of  mental  activity,  tho  at  the  root  they 
are  one.  We  may  call  that  root  immediate  conception,  intuition,  inspiration,  imagi- 
nation, divination,  vision,  presentiment,  if  not  "pure  reason"  itself:— it  is  always  a 
peculiar  flashing-up  from  the  occult  recesses  of  man's  being  of  which  he  is  uncon- 
scious. The  Germans  call  this  deep  source  in  the  mind  "Nachtseite  des  Seelenlebens." 
We  termed  it  "Sub-consciousness."  But  just  as  in  the  case  of  the  promiscuous  use  of 
the  term  "intuition"— which  even  Bowne  often  identifies  with  reflection  upon  sense-per- 
ceptions, whilst  it  ought  to  be  distinguished  as  a  phenomenon  of  the  purely  spiritual 
side  of  the  mind,despite  its  character  of  being  analogous  to  what  in  the  purely  natural 
part  of  the  soul  we  call  "instinct,"  its  radical  opposite— so  we  must  have 
some  more  definite  term  for  this  obscure  recess  of  the  mind.  We  therefore,  and  for 
reasons  becoming  apparent  later  on,  will  denominate  it:  "unreflected  consciousness." 
By  its  undeniable  presence  man's  being  is  perceptibly  proven  to  be  in  contact  and 
touch  with  the  really  existing  world  of  higher,  of  unconflned  life,  with  the  world  of 
spirits. 


I.  A.  Ch.  V.  §  15.      sub-("unreflected")  consciousness  and  well-balanced  mind.  41 

Evidently  it  is  necessary  to  clear  up  our  opinion  on  this  subject.    The  phenomena  ' 

of  that  sphere  must  be  brought  forth  again  from  the  lumber  room  of  hallucinations 
where  they  were  stowed  away  out  of  sight.  They  need  be  separated,  also,  from  the 
alloys  of  sprites,  of  mere  imagery,  and  phantoms  ;  and  they  need  be  defended  against 
aspersions  wherein  they  were  identified  with  the  latter. 

If  we  succeed  in  the  discriminations  repeatedly  referred  to,  as  we  should,  then  the 
way  is  open  for  correcting  the  definitions  of  intuition  and  its  kindred  phenomena, 
and  for  their  distinction  from  other  states  and  modes  of  mental  activity  ;  then  the 
wellspring  of  intellectual  functions  will  become  observable  and  the  genesis  of  our  SitA'th^e'spiri?** 
thoughts  and  cognitions,  and  their  relations  to  inspiration  and  divinations,  also, will  be  the^woriroTspTrite. 
better  understood  and  appreciated.     Then  epistemology,  now  prone  to  interpret 
thought  as  the  simple  result  of  the  molecular  motion  of  nervesubstance,  will  see  its 
way  clear  to  pass  over  the  "  threshold  "  that  separates  the  sensational  from  the  emo-  vicissitude«  to  which 
tional  and  spiritual  sphere.    It  is  correct,  that  we  must  watch  the  catena  in  which  ratiocÄrco^gnitions 
the  series  of  conceptions  is  gathered  in,  stored  up,  and  arranged,  from  sense  percep-  1^«^.**'^*^'         sec.  a 
tions  up  to  compound  thought-combinations,  ratiocinations,and  transeunt  cognitions. 

The  work  of  discussing  correlative  or  analogous  phenomena,  of  critical  siftings, 
of  comparing  notes,  of  giving  reasons  for  approval  or  disapproval ;  or  of  showing 
causes  of  misconceptions  and  misapprehensions  and  pseudo-deductions ;  or  giving  ac- 
count of  the  ways  in  which  disturbances  of  sound  judgment  are  possible— all  must 
be  settled  before  we  may  logically  proceed  toward  not  only  plausible  but  cogent  and 
consistent  conclusions,  compatible  with  unsophisticated  facts. 

But  it  is  not  correct  to  denounce  all  this  work  as  being  in  vain,  and  to  drop  the  The  primary  source  of 

*=•  '  ^  thoughts  not  to  be 

work  before  all  this  is  accomplished  under  pretense  of  the  unavailibility  of  the  truth  ienored  in  the  process 

^  ^  •'of  proving  what  in- 

— just  because  of  ignoring  the  source  or  root  alluded  to.  The  investigation  of  it  etc^^s'orbS' *'""*''' 
brings  us  face  to  face  with  delicate  points  which  require  special  and  penetrating 
studies  on  dangerous  ground.  It  is  an  operation  in  which  the  observations  are  some- 
times subject  to  justifiable  doubts,  if  one  from  that  root,  which  ramifies  even  into 
planetary  life,  would  cut  loose  under  the  illusion  that  pure  reason  itself  would  an- 
swer the  purposes  for  which  intuition  must  serve,  or  that  pure  reason  alone  could  ex- 
plain intuition  and  its  kindred  phenomena. 

We  must  repeat  that  the  particulars  can  not  be  understood  unless  explained  un-  General  cognitions 
der  consideration  of  all  their  bearings  upon  the  whole  and  of  the  bearings  of  the  thf^p'St rfunuy"" 
whole  upon  the  particulars,  that  is— from  the  aspect  of  unity. 

No  such  an  all-embracing  cognition,  no  synthetical  comprehension  is  ever  ob- 
tainable by  way  of  pure  logics,  nor  by  methods  of  everlastingly  sceptical  criticism  ah  coexisting  faculties 
and  dialectic  sophistry  ;  it  can  never  be  conceived  without  the  cooperation  of  some  func^omÄ^omi^der, 
other,if  not  all  the  endowments  of  the  well-balanced  mind.  All  the  faculties  are  in  un-  proc"es7o^f'twnkinglnd 
ceasing  reciprocal  interaction  when  one  is  engaged,  altho  the  one  may  preponderate 
according  to  its  or  their  momentary  activity.    This  point  was  first  and  well  taken  in 
Herder's  Metacriticism  of  Kant's  "  Kritik." 

Is  it  not  the  same  with  the  functions  of  the  physical  part  of  human  nature?    Do  not  the 
bodily  organs  sympathise  in  their  functions  and  cooperate  without  our  consciousness  being"  operative^n*form?n"g 
aware  of  it?    And  do  they  not  cooperate  in  acts  of  purest  thought?    That  they  do  this,  is  so  thoughts  etc.,  so  that 
emphatically  admitted,  that  many  claim  to  be  convinced  of  the  origin  of  their  consciousness  argumenraga1nst*the 
from  these  very  bodily  interactions  alone.    We  see  that  the  difficulty  of  conceiving  this  gen-  I?^^'*^  °'  spiritual 
eral  and  complete  reciprocity  is  not  a  whit  greater  than  to  comprehend  the  cognition— 
■"sensuous  perception." 

We  may  be  able  to  overlook  a  whole  sphere  with  all  its  radii,  as  we  stand  in  the 
«enter,  or  imagine  our  point  of  view  to  be  there  and  "take  in'*  the  whole  compass  by 
look  or  thought  in  successive  order  or  even  all  at  once— in  the  same  manner  as  we 
never  can  see  all  over  the  surface  of  a  globe  and  yet  comprehend  it. 

It  is  not  our  purpose  to  argue  for  omniscience,  altho  for  a  view  that  shall  come  ^^^  ^^^^^^^  ^^  complete 
Tery  near  to  it.    All  we  desire  to  maintain  is  but  the  right  to  acknowledge  imagina-  ^elftaTfaLuies  Is 
tion  as  taking  part  in  the  transaction  of  comprehending,  in  forming  what  may  be  pe'r^e^'n* is'intuuive. 
«ailed  a  compound  apperception,  analogous  to  the  taking  of  an  instantaneous  photo- 
graph. 

Comprehension  means  more  than  a..chain  of  conclusions  gained  by  consecutive 
reflection  upon  causes  and  effects,  by  a  relative  or  negative  mode  of  thinking,  or  by 


its  products. 
Heboeb. 


42 


Extent  of 

perception 

as  contrasted  with  that 
of 

comprehension. 


Perception  does  not 
advance  to  comprehen« 
sion  without  mutual 
discipline  and  control 
of  the  faculties, 

imagination 

included. 


Systems  of  concom- 
mitant  ideas  never 
conceived  nor  projected 
without  the  mind  of  the 
genius.  Sec.  216. 


Thinking:— Kant. 
Musing:  — Copernicus. 


Important  as  imagina- 
tion is  as  the  creative 
power  of  the  mind,  the 
labor  of  methodical 
thinking  is  indispensable 


so  as  to  fix  intuitive 
flashes  of  compound 
apperceptions. 


Frequent  results  of 
intuitive  cognitions. 


New  discoveries 


but  rearrangements  of 
old  truths.  Sec.  34. 


New  conditions  for  ex- 
istence or  for  the 
exercise  of  personal  life 
can  not  be  invented. 

Sec.  34. 


{ssues  of  personal  life 
ever  of  lasting  impoit. 


Intuition  in  relation  to 
deduction. 


MUSING  AND  THINKING.  I.  A.  CH.  V.  §  15. " 

deductiTe  or  inductive  abstraction,  in  all  of  which  intuition  also  plays  its  role.  Per- 
ception does  not  advance  to  the  grade  of  a  comprehensive  cognition,  and  comprehen- 
sion is  not  realised,  unless  our  intellectual  faculties,  imagination  included,  cooperate 
in  harmony  with  the  feeling  of  valuation  and  with  the  energy  of  decision,  that  is» 
under  the  discipline  of  mutual  control.  Full  and  true  comprehension,  of  course  not 
in  the  absolute  sense,  is  obtainable;  but  not  without  the  untrammeled  use  of  that  in- 
trospective capability  manifest  in  the  depths  of  our  being,  not  without  that  quick 
flash  of  in-tell-igence  which  outruns  thought  as  fast  as  the  glance  of  the  eye  outruns 
our  slowly  following  feet. 

Of  phantoms  and  the  like  we  need  not  be  afraid  if  we  agree  with  this  assertion.  On  the 
contrary,  never  was  a  grand  system  of  rearranged  ideas  conceived  and  projected  from  any 
mind  without  the  genius  that  influenced  a  Copernicus  or  Columbus,  a  Newton  or  Haydn. 
It  is  the  genius  which  always  first  discovers  the  full  original  import  of  old  but  rearranged 
ideas  under  a  spell  of  an  infusion,  as  it  were,  as  tho  the  discovery  or  invention  had  been  sug- 
gested to  his  mind  by  some  outside  mind  other  than  himself.  The  form  of  such  a  more  than 
ingenious  idea  is  analogous  to  yonder  event,  when  the  greatest  legislative  organiser  beheld 
on  the  mount  the  archetype  of  the  new  creation. 

The  difference  between  musing  and  thinking  may  be  illustrated  by  the  two  phil- 
osophers of  Koenigsberg  and  Frauenburg;  the  one,  pen  in  hand  and  bent  over  books— 
the  other  leaning  at  the  window  in  the  silent  dark  of  midnight  and  pensively  looking 
into  realms  above. 

Malebranche  has  proved,  and  Bowne  reiterates,  that  "vision"  is  actually  inde- 
pendent of  light.  That  architectonic  power  of  the  phantasy,  so  frequently  spoken  of 
with  disdain,  that  apprehensive  imagination,  has  the  plant  and  design  of  the  structure 
complete  before  the  mind  at  one  stroke,  long  before  the  "hands"  slowly  go  to  work. 

Intuition  nevertheless,  does  not  spare  us  the  labor  sequent  to  its  revelation. 
Genius  does  not  release  us  from  the  task  of  methodical  thinking.  Each  single  in- 
stance or  inference  must  properly  be  put  to  its  place  as  indicated  by  the  design  of  the 
whole.  In  order  to  do  this  work  swift  enough,  before  the  vision  of  a  beautiful  and 
clear  combination  of  thoughts  withdraws  from  consciousness,  many  a  writer  puts 
writing  utensils  in  near  reach  of  his  place  of  repose.  Every  one  of  us  has  repeatedly 
become  aware  of  the  fact  that  the  most  desirable  insights,  so  plainly  before  his  mind, 
vanish  from  him  beyond  reproduction,  as  soon  as  reason  begins  to  reflect  upon  them. 
Other  conceptions  of  similar  rank  are  only  retainable  if  immediately  fixed.  This 
proves  that  intuitive  cognitions  are  compelled  to  undergo  the  process  of  reflective 
reasoning  in  order  to  become  recognised  as  knowledge. 

Hence  science  does  not  only  not  suffer  from,but  becomes  enhanced  by  such  compe- 
tition of  the  intuitional  with  the  usual  rational  conceptions  of  thoughts.  Science  may 
be  obliged  to  open  her  eyes  more  widely  at  some  or  the  other  occasion,  and  to  extend 
her  borders;  or  perhaps,  to  revise  a  theory  here  and  there  that  before  seemed  so  nicely 
to  fit  everywhere,  in  order  to  embrace  the  \^hole.  Does  it  hurt,  if  the  truth  of  any,  even 
be  it  theological,  system  or  interpretation,  or  of  any  construction  of  opinions  is  chal- 
lenged and  put  to  the  test  by  new  discoveries?  or  if  experiences  from  real  life  demand 
a  reconsideration? 

No.  We  have  more  faith  in  the  truth,  in  its  attainability  and  indestructibility, 
than  to  fear  damage  from  any  source.  New  discoveries  or  experiences  will  never 
cause  more  than  a  revision,  perhaps,  or  a  rearrangement,  sometimes  a  restoration, 
of  formerly  rejected  elements.  For  it  will  never  be  possible  in  the  world  as  it  is 
to  demolish  entirely  whatsoever  took  its  origin  in  personal  life— not  even  a  falsehood 
much  less  a  truth;  neither  will  it  ever  be  possible  to  create  or  invent  new  conditions 
for  the  existence  or  the  exercise  of  personal  life.  And  not  only  was  there  always  a 
ray  of  life  and  light  in  any  rational  concept  brought  forth,  as  in  a  crystal  that  may 
deserve  a  resetting:  but  even  when  the  time  of  its  significance  was  spent,  it  retained 
a  certain  value  in  collections.  Such  tokens  then  still  serve  as  object  lessons,  instruc- 
tive at  least  as  to  the  place  once  occupied  by  them  in  the  fabric  of  the  whole;— yea,  of 
which,  as  illustrating  certain  truths,  we  often  need  thus  to  be  reminded. 

Deduction  consists  in  the  efforts  to  comprehend  and  to  formulate  the  general  ef- 
fect resulting  from  single  or  combined  activities  from  which  to  show  the  effectual 
bearings  of  the  whole  upon  the  constituent  particulars.    We  may  as  well  name  it 


I.  A.  CH.  V.  §  15.  16.  INNER  NEGATIVES  DEVELOPED.     REID   — DAGUERRE.  43 

speculation.  For,  this  whole,  this  totality  of  compound  apperceptions  and  syntheti- 
cal judgments  as  to  man's  standing  before  the  court  of  history,  must  stand  before  our 
view  as  a  world  in  itself,  as  a  synthesis  or  rather  as  an  organic  system  of  various,  of 
all  syntheses,  as  one  compatible  and  consistent,  tho  at  the  same  time  adjustable,  body  of  knowSe  on* which 
complex  conceptions.  This  is  virtually  the  goal  toward  which  all  thinking  inadvert-  everwVeÄf^iin». 
ently  aspires;  it  is  the  presentiment  of  that  which  is  felt  must  be  true,  and  the  com- 
prehension of  which  must  be  within  our  reach. 

The  body  of  these  compound  syntheses  may  well  be  compared  to  a  unanimous  resolu- 
tion of  the  "House  and  Senate  in  joint  session,"  representing  the  thoughts  and   wills  and  all  An  organism  of  adjuste- 
the  combatant  interests  of  forty-five  well  organised  states  containing  about  seventy  millions  bie  syntheses  illustrated. 
of  intelligent  people.    And  in  addition,  to  a  resolution  carried  similarly  by  an  international 
congress,  which  would  bear  on  the  common  interests  of  humanity  in  general.    The  name  for 
such  an  all-comprising  synthesis  of  organised  knowledge  can  be  no  other  but— Truth.    And  r^^y^ 
the  key  to  its  inner  combination  can  be  nothing  else  but  Faith. 

This  compound  cognition  is  not  a  mere  imaginary  world,  altho  our  conception  of 
it  be  like  a  negative  partly  prepared  in  a  dark  enclosure  of  our  being.    It  contains  the  ^thÄu^Vecesle"*" 
universe  as  it  really  is  ;  for  the  soul  has  forwarded,  focused,  and  concentrated  in  itself  all  compo^d  *lf  inXient 
tlie  essential  contents  and  mysteries  gathered  up  on  its  way  of  development  through  all  spheres  gSirconc^te!*i'e. 
and  stages  of  nature,  besides  those  mysteries,  which  are  the  innate  inheritance  of  the  deveioperuSier  tC 
spiritual  constituent,  and  in  which  the  soul  by  virtue  of  its  union  with  the  spirit  ^'^'^■'■ß^*^*'^*^**''- 
participates. 

Hence,  the  mind  contains,  under  the  name  of  "  universals  *',  (Kant's  "  Catego- 
ries"), not  only  the  frame  for  the  reality  of  the  universe,  but  also  the  feeling  of  what  se^"*5 jotn^isll^T,  37, 38. 
the  universe  ideally  even  should  be.    This  true  perspective  image  is  reflected  there»  i«  man™*^^ 

,     ,,  ..      ^       1  ,  ,  J      J.1-    X     .       X       i_  .       ^  T  ^,  ,.     ,  «        Sec.  9,  10,  13,  115,  131. 

and  there  waits  to  be  developed,  that  is,  to  be  recognised  under  the  sunlight  of 
the  reflecting  mind:   to  be  awakened— "occasioned"  said  Malebranche,— by  incite- 
ments from  outside,  by  suggestions  from  the  spiritual  as  well  as  from  the  natural  * 
spheres.    The  latent  reflexes  are  to  be  lifted  up  into,  to  be  appropriated  and  compre- 
hended by,  consciousness.    This  is  the  work  of  the  speculafive  activity  of  the  mind 
on  its  spiritual  part.    The  "  image "  is  thus  made  intelligible,  and  may  then  be 
shown  to  those,  who  can  now  understand  what  they  themselves  felt  before,  without 
knowing  the  process  of  developing,  i.  e.,  obtaining  it.    The  world  thus  reflected  has 
made  its  first  step  toward  its  realisation  and  transfiguration  into  the  spiritual  form  d^,„„.. 
of  existence.    Upon  that  scope  of  speculative  comprehension  of  true  reality  Schell- 
ing,  Oken  and  Hamilton  found  their  object-lens  for  looking  at  things  in  their  real- 
istic theorems  of  nature  at  the  very  period  when  Daguerre  experimented  with  the  |;';^;^^'**""" "' 
camera  obscura— a  singular  coincidence,  illustrating  the  correctness  of  Dr.  Reid's 
Scottish  realism. 

From  inductive  retrospects  we  have  now  gathered  sufficient  indications  to  show  s^,„^^^,^,  o«» 
that  man  alone  ofEers  the  focus  for  philosophical  reflection.    We  found  the  human  hamilto».' 
being  to  embody  that  whole,  which  is  the  requisite  for  understanding  the  single  fac- 
tors and  events.    Man  is  the  world  in  miniature.    The  image  after  which  nature  is 
developed  lies  in  man.    In  personal  life,  as  we  use  this  term,  we  found  the  theme  of 
history,  after  nature  in  her  way  and  on  his  account  had  celebrated  her  wedding  with  indications  gathered  by 
the  spirit,  and  had  begun  to  commemorate  the  festive  occasion  in  her  serene  sabbaths.  ****  '^«*'^'»p«<=*- 

In  man,  nature  and  history,  matter  and  mind,  are  present  in  their  mutual  adapta- 
bility.   Their  relations  are  felt  to  be  reflected  upon  the  background  of  consciousness  j^^^^^  ^,  ^^^^^^  ^ 
80  as  to  be  formulated  iiito  a  unitary  concept  of  concrete,altho  hyper-phenomenal  and  ""s^^**9/ro,T3"ii5  131 
transeunt,  reality.   All  historic  truth  must  be  explicable  by  deduction  from  this  com- 
pact synthetical  cognition. 

§  16.    We  understood  how  history  is  the  unfolding  of  man  with  all  his  gifts,  po-  „ 

"  .      "^  ,    .  '^  '^         Man  the  nucrocosm  and 

tentialities,  predispositions,  faculties,  and  opportunities.    We  now  add  :    History  un.  at  the  same  «me  the 

'  r  IT  r  theme  of  history, 

folds  man  in  his  fillen  state;  as  having  lost  the  vivid  consciousness  of  his  destination  the  focus  for  phiio- 

•^  sophical  reflection  upon 

by  which  he  ought  to  have  allowed  himself  to  be  constantly  inspired  ;  but  as  "  com-  nature  and  history. 
ing  to  "  again  by  way  of  feeling  his  loss. 

The  vista  of  the  typical  man  of  our  expectancy,  mirrored  in  creation,  becomes  Mans  unfolding 

-«.  ^  ,.  ,  ..  ,  xji  Trtr»      furnishes  history  its 

blurred  on  that  account.    Its  presentation  and  proof  is  made  a  great  deal  more  difli-  material. 

,  ,  .  .  «  XI-  1  Sec.  9, 10, 13, 15. 

cult.    Still  the  craving  for  a  general  concept  remains  as  a  sign  of  the  real  presence 
6 


Human  nature  in  its 
fallen  state  aggravates 
the  comprehension  ol 
life  in  a  synthesis. 


Heoel's  failure  from 
ignoring  the  fall  and 
the  losses. 


Man's  unfolding  con- 
sidered under  topics  of 
culture  as  issuing  from 
physical,  psychical, 
ethical  and  religious 
data: 


Results  of  physical 

development: 

cities,  tools,  weapons, 

of  psychical  life: 
temples  and  tombs. 


M  EXTERNAL  TOKENS  OF  DEVELOPMENT.  I.  A.  Ch.  V.  §  16. 

of  the  image— i.  e.  of  the  integrity  of  the  archetype— remains  only  so  much  the 
stronger.  And  in  our  search  for  the  synthesis  of  syntheses  we  grapple  with  the  vari- 
ous topics  of  historical  development  in  order  to  explain  them  even  in  their  vexatious 
tangle  with  the  other  problem  just  now  hinted  at.  Human  life  must  be  followed  out 
in  all  its  details  as  it  actually  is  ;  human  nature  must  be  comprehended  in  every  re- 
spect and  under  all  circumstances.  But  most  all  philosophers  have  failed  in  this.  In 
Hegel's  otherwise  clever  exposition,  for  instance,  all  the  derangements  caused  by  the 
losses  were  left  out  of  view— a  sad  defect. 

In  generalising  these  conditions  and  relations  the  following  topics  would  result: 
Man's  PHYSlCAli  condition,  now  passive  and  dependent,  offers  to  our  consideration  the 
history  of  the  development  of  his  physical  endowments ;  those  gifts,  common  to  all  and  to  be 
put  in  use  by  all ;  capabilities  which  assert  themselves  in  the  earliest  beginnings  of  culture. 
With  them  these  effects  were  worked  out  which  would  come  under  headings  of  gratification 
of  appetites,  propagation  of  the  race,  maintainance  of  existence  by  means  of  food,  cover, 
defences.  This  comprises  the  results  of  activity  in  agricultural  husbandry,  in  architecture, 
manufacture,  traffic,  war.  Objects  of  observation  on  this  line  would  be  cities,  tools,  weapons. 
The  investigation  of  the  psychical,  self  leads  to  the  problems  of  languages  and  know- 
ledge; to  man's  scientific  search,  within  himself  and  without,  after  means  for  extending 
dominion  over  physical  forces ;  it  leads  to  the  refinement  of  emotional  and  intellectual  faculties 
and  optional  energies.  The  results  consist  in  geometry,  astrology,  arts,  literature,  aesthetics : 
of  which  we  find  the  traces  in  temples  and  tombs. 

With  regard  to  the  moeal  sense  we  observe  man  speculating  upon  the  authority  and 
objectivity  of  rights,  laws,  duties,  retributions.  The  coercive  and  corrective  executions  of  the 
moral  law  within  and  of  the  natural  law  without  in  their  cooperation  keep  him  from  utter 
degeneracy ;  they  urge  him  on  to  improve  his  condition,  and  to  better  and  free  himself. 
The  faint  manifestations  of  the  sole  necessity  of  the  Good  within  him  secure  his  aptitude 
for  the  elevation  of  character  under  selfculture,  and  his  susceptibility  to  the  influences 
from  above  which  draw  him  upward;— secure  his  dignity  and  his  freedom.  Man  learns  to 
respect  rights  and  duties,  liberties  and  restrictions  for  the  sake  of  reason  and  for  reasons  of 
state.  Man  organises,  sets  up  sacred  land  marks  delineating  possession.  He  deliberates  upon 
legislation,  judges  conduct,  modifies  government.  He  also  loses  himself  in  the  lusts  and 
despairings  of  sensual  dissipation ;  he  feels  how  the  natural  and  the  spiritual  constituents  of 
his  inner  being  react  upon  and  resist  each  other.  The  results  of  these  activities  we  observe 
'  in  the  founding  of  states,  in  the  rise  of  philosophers  and  legislators,  of  despots  and  liber- 
ators ;  in  civil  institutions ;  in  the  formation  of  ranks,  castes,  dynasties. 

Then,  and  not  least  of  all,  because  representing  the  cardinal  principle  of  culture,  we 
would  have  to  philosophise  upon  the  phenomena  of  man's  keligious  sense.  The  movements 
in  this  sphere  are  most  numerous  and  most  distinctly  pronounced.  There  is  the  sacredness  of 
tradition,  transmitted  in  the  internal  remnants  of  primeval  God-consciousness ;  and  there 
are  the  external  and  ruined  symbols  and  tokens  of  original  universal  religiousness.  There  is 
the  universality  of  worship  in  which  offerings  of  prayers  and  sacrifices  ever  predominate. 
There  are  to  be  compared  the  cosmogenies,  myths,  rites,  theologies;  the  various  forms  of 
religious  deformations  and  reformations,  of  hieratic  doctrines  and  institutions.  The  mold- 
ing influences  of  scepticism  upon  society  and  private  life  morally  and  mentally— its  causes, 
effects,  and  its  cures,  too,  would  here  have  to  be  looked  into.  We  would  have  to  demonstrate 
a  primitive  and  universal,  then  a  general,  then  a  special  revelation,  culminating  in  the  in- 
tensified and  saving  religion;  and  finally  the  consummate  blending  of  the  moral  and 
religious  aspirations.  We  would  have  to  trace  depravity  to  its  deepest,  and  meditate  upon 
salvation  in  its  highest  manifestations.  We  would  have  to  follow  all  this  through  traditions, 
symbolic  figures  and  rites,  sacred  writings  and  holy  writ;  through  religion  intensified  under 
pressure,  expanding  again  into  the  periphery  of  universal  humanity— all  these  movements 
under  the  captions  of  Cultus,  Church,  Missions. 

A  Philosophy  of  History  certainly  would  embrace  all  these  revelations  of  human 
life;  and  the  outline  drawn  would  be  the  proper  arrangement  in  groups— representing 
indeed  the  cyclopedia  of  all  the  sciences.  Do  we  need  to  give  reasons  for  declining  a 
method  of  such  analytical  treatment? 

To  draw  parallels  like  musical  scales  upon  which  to  copy  the  signs  of  a  symphony, 
scales  picturing  the  ascending  and  descending  stages,  rests,  and  arrests  of  progress, 
symbolising  the  music  thus  written;  and  to  set  under  these  musical  scales  as  a  text 
or  theme  all  the  interactions,  perhaps,  of  all  the  coeflQcients,  of  each  part  of  culture 

Reasons  for  declining  ,  j  ir  r    7  ^  ,,  .         n     o, 

such  analysis  of  human  in  Its  reciprocity — IS  uot  our  design  at  present.    That  fine  attempt  or  Spencer  s 

affairs  in  schematic  f  J  or  r  r 

outlines  lilce 
Spencer's 
"Sociological  Tables," 


States,  dynasties,  castes 


Witnessing  to  the 
modifications  of 
religious  life. 


Traditions,  symbols, 
rites  of  cultus, 
sacred  writings. 


■which  do  not  simplify 
the  survey, 


"Sociological  Tables"  may  some  day  come  to  completion,  but  can  nature  bottle  up  the 
spirit?  And  what  materialist  would  have  enough  interest  left  for  buying  the  high- 
priced  books  with  their  reiterating  rubrics  of  structural  and  functional  evolution,  in 
order  to  possess  that  sort  of  a  key  to  human  affairs?  For  after  all,  the  best  arrange- 
ment of  the  immense  amount  of  material  would  not  much  simplify  the  survey.  It 
would  be  so  analytical  as  to  impair  the  desired  result,  namely,  the  focusing  of  human 


I.  B.  CH.  1.      MAN  AS  PROTOTYPE  OF  THE  WORLD  OF  PERFECTION.  45 

nature  and  its  development  in  one  universal  and  comprehensive  synthesis.  It  would 
but  resemble  the  natural  history  of  man  as  given  in  a  report  of  his  post  mortem 
examination,  filled  out  upon  a  statistical  blank. 

In  this  work  we  shall  not  endeavor  to  arrange  the  explanatory  arguments  of 
man  and  history  according  to  such  schemata.    We  would  get  no  more  than  a  series  of  cömprXnsivl'^ynthet- 
special  monographs  on  languages,  governments,  arts,  letters,  etc.,  each  by  itself,  and  fl^^mTfew  cardiLi 
would  get  no  further  than  where  we  are  now.    Such  books  we  have;  they  are  of  little  p"''*='p'*'- 
avail  in  comprehending  the  leading  principles  underlying  human  affairs. 

To  understand  man  is  all  that  is  necessary  in  order  to  render  the  books  of  nature  The  natural  and  spiritual 

•^  .  elements  of  man  life 

and  history  legible.    Know  the  human  type  or  typical  man,  and  life  past  and  present  »»irrored  in  history; 
becomes  as  lucid  and  cursive  reading,  as  this  imprint— from  a  score  of  graphite 
types,  made  of  the  lead  that  rested  in  a  mountain  far  away  and  prepared  by  a  hun-  history  the  biography 
dred  hands— now  conveys  these  thoughts  to  the  readers  mind.    In  a  similar  manner  *'"* ""'""'  °*  "'"'• 
is  man  the  type,  as  it  were,  communicating  to  us  the  fundamental  principles  of 
history,  the  essence  of  whose  unfolded  fulness  he  is.    After  the  essence  is  extracted 
and  the  sense  understood,  that  is,  when  man's  contents  are  epitomised,  then  the  mat- 
ter is  exhausted  and  the  remaining  bulk  becomes  irrelevant.    The  character  of  an 
African  forest  may  be  correctly  presented  to  the  mind  from  the  description  of  a  few 
characteristic  trees,  without  inspecting  all  the  forests  extant  there  by  actual  ex- 
ploration. 

In  History  all  constituent  elements  point  to  man;  for  in  him  implicitly  lies  their 
cause  and  purpose  and  resolvent.      Whosoever  undertakes  to  write  or  read  his 
biography  has  easy  proof  of  the  truth  at  hand.    He  has  himself  for  an  object  lesson,  DeAnition  of  the 
his  inner  and  exterior  life  is  a  sample  and  epitome  of  the  whole.    The  Philosophy  of  fh^J  hÄnrou^cSitl 
History  as  we  take  it,  is  the  harmonious  consultation  with  humanity  on  the  subjects  of  self»  tlTsubjecw^seif  °" 
possession.    Thus  our  science  makes  man  acquainted  with  himself,  for  history  is  per-  seifpoMeS.^'^'sec.  u. 
sonal  matter  unfolded,  extended,  revealed.    Hence  personal  man  himself  (not  in  the 
abstract  of  human  nature)  furnishes  the  material  for  the  Philosophy  of  History  as 
well  as  History  furnishes  the  material  for  the  mirror  in  which  man  sees  himself.    In 
his  ascending  grades  and  perpetual  succession  he  solves  the  problems  assigned  to 
him  in  every  respect,  from  compressed,  arrested,  confined  life  up  to  glorification. 

Indeed,  up  to  perfection.    For  man  is  not  only  the  type  and  theme  of  that  his- 
toric development  which  precedes  the  transition  into  the  state  of  final  realisations;  themf of  the ÄÄ 
but  also  the  type  of  the  ultimate  goal  and  continuing  state  of  consummate  perfection  *^'°'''*^  '■''^^'*^- 
which  surpasses  and  supersedes  all  present  realities.  At  present  the  ideal  of  that  world 
of  absolute  reality  is  reflected  in  him  by  refracted  rays  only,  at  its  best.    This  ideal  Th«  ideal  at  present 

•'  "  ^  ^  1  refracted  by  broken 

we  will  try  to  show  later  on,  when  in  due  course  of  our  observations  we  shall  pass  the  i^^j:  t*"*  ^p  ^I?''»» 

•'  '  *^  forth  in  full  orb. 

meridian  where  it  shines  forth  from  human  nature  in  full  orb. 


B.     SECOND  DIVISION. 
OPERATIVE  MODE  OF  HISTORY. 


SYLLABUS. 

Having  surveyed  the  coefiicients  of  history,  and  to  some  extent  inquired  into  the 
methods  of  their  treatment  by  the  sciences,  we  now  address  ourselves  to  the  modes  in  Sry  workl*''''^ 
which,  and  the  means  by  which,  history  itself  works  with  the  material,  making  time 
and  space  the  repository  of  the  effects  of  its  activity. 

In  a  general  way  we  might  think  of  those  means  which  are  at  man's  disposal, 
namely,  the  instincts  of  preservation  and  propagation.    The  one  will  act  in  the  man- 
ner of  contraction,  seeking  to  protect  life  better  and  better  against  increasing  inse-  drs^o^i"*  mVn  * 
curities;  the  other  will  work  in  the  direction  of  expansion,  inciting  effects  of  domin- 
ion, teaching  organisation,  or  urging  on  to  migrations. 

Furthermore  such  other  means  would  have  to  be  noticed  by  which  historic  move- 
ments are  conditioned,  as  for  example  the  influences  exerted  by  climes  and  localities. 
But  about  all  of  these  things,  not  much  need  be  added  to  what  was  quoted  from  Ritter  localities  and  dimes. 
to  Buckle.    The  time  is  past     for  such  broad  and  yet  cursory  discussion  as  Eith,  the      disposed  of  inSe«.  l 
engineer,  and  as  Spencer  used  to  carry  on  about  environments. 


46 


Problems  which  require 
more  profound 
disquisition. 


Purpose,       Sec.  3,  4,  101. 


Tlieory  ot  the 
"Occasional  Cause" 
foundered  at  demon- 
strating the  adaptation  of 
motive  to  its  aim. 


Human  soul  is  the 
purpose  of  nature 
realised.   Sec.  5,  6,  15,  18 


Things  have  a  meaning 
as  far  as  the^  are  means 
for  other  things. 


but  have  no  purpose  in 
themselves.  Sec.  6 


Meaning  of  things  lies 
in  their  rational  order. 


Purpose  only  to 
be  found  by 
considering  the 
whole. 


Illustrated  by  a  machine : 

Truth  in  Occasionalism. 

Sec.  2,  3,  4,  15,  19. 


Genesis  of  the 
concept  of 
purpose. 


The  relation  of  any 
entity  to  others  de- 
termines Its  value. 


REASON  OF  VALUE  IN  OBJECTS.  I.  B.  CH.  I.  §  17, 

The  present  state  of  knowledge  requires  of  us  to  stand  face  to  face  with  more 
complicated  problems.  Questions  are  now  brought  up  which  demand  a  settlement, 
during  the  deliberations  of  which  the  position  of  our  science  with  reference  to  his- 
tory proper  will  be  determined,  outlined,  and  illustrated  at  once.  We  are  confronted 
with  the  terms,  purpose,  movement,  development,  and  plan  of  history. 
CH.  1.    THE  AIM  OR  INTENT  OF  HISTORY. 

§  17.  The  concept  of  purpose  implies,  in  the  first  place,  a  complex  proposition. 
Some  agency  intends,  that  is,  wills  to  operate  upon  some  object,  in  order  to  accom- 
plish—a certain  end. 

How  all  this  is  to  be  explained,  or  whether  it  is  possible  and  necessary  to  find  an 
explanation  at  the  outset,  has  been  a  matter  of  much  controversy.  It  was  just  this 
question  which  was  ventilated  in  "Occasionalism",  that  mechanical  view  fixed  upon 
the  "Occasional  Cause"  which  was  unable  to  account  for  the  notions  of  cause  and  ef- 
fect, and  unable  to  connect  motion  and  aim  in  their  mutual  adaptability. 

In  the  animated  world  the  purpose  comes  in  for  realisation;  the  end  is  reached  in 
such  a  way,  that  the  means  become  purposive  themselves.  The  human  soul,  being 
the  aim  of  nature,  is  nature's  purpose  realised  in  man.  Besides  this  end  nature  had 
no  other  purpose.  The  purpose  is  now  man  himself,  having  a  purpose  in  himself. 
His  organs  are  his  means  serving  the  higher  end  of  his  soul.  A  living  whole  is  pre- 
sented, in  which  each  organ  serves  as  a  means  and  has,  by  virtue  of  membership  there- 
in, a  purpose  in  itself  for  the  sake  of  other  purposes.  Things  have  no  other  meaning 
but  that  they  are  means  to  realise  a  purpose.  We  stand  before  the  purpose  which 
lies  in  the  objects  themselves. 

When  reasoning  about  any  circumstance  we  evidently  bring  the  idea  of  purpose 
along  with  our  minds  and  constantly  apply  it.  This  is  explicit  whenever  we  find  it 
necessary  to  ask,  whether  things  are  of  any  account.  We  claim  the  right  to  ask,  for 
instance,  for  a  reasonable  account  of  the  notion  time,  or  space,  or  substance,  etc.  If 
any  value  is  claimed  for  them,  proof  is  to  be  given  for  their  possessing  specific  at- 
tributes. 

Reason  seeks  a  reason  in  things  ;  they  must  reveal  what  their  object  is  in  order 
to  be  recognised  as  objects.  Unless  we  find  a  meaning  in,  and  a  reason  for  them,  we 
can  not  understand  them.  Their  reason  or  meaning  we  find  in  their  rational  order. . 
In  order  to  ascribe  any  fitness  to  them,  we  expect  of  them  that,  besides  their  being 
put  into  a  proper  arrangement,  they  possess  certain  qualifications.  Whenever  their 
import  is  discerned  thereby,  the  cognition  of  the  purpose  is  established  ;  what 
achievement  results  from  their  purport  is  the  purpose  of  the  object.  The  thought  of 
purpose  governs  history  down  to  the  scene  of  action,  to  the  earthly  circumstances,  en- 
vironments, and  concomitant      factors  of  the  event. 

Let  this  be  illustrated  by  a  machine.  Certainly,  anything  unusual  in  the  line  of  these 
contrivances  attracts  our  attention.  This  is  the  truth  contained  in  Occasionalism.  We  expect 
the  expression  of  some  clever  thought  in  it,  just  as  the  Niagara  Falls  suggest  grand  concep- 
tions and  emotions,  speaking  to  us,  as  the  poets  say  with  deep  truth,  in  the  immediate  child- 
language  of  the  mind.  The  first  idea  called  forth  by  the  strange  thing  is  the  question  as  to  its 
adaptability  for  a  certain  performance.  Unless  that  much  interest  is  awakened  we  treat  the 
machine  with  unconcern ;  we  deem  it  nonsensical.  But  the  arrangement  of  its  parts  strikes 
us ;  it  attracts  the  attention  of  the  beholder  who  brings  a  sense  for  the  indicated  fitness  with 
him;  yet  not  the  fitness  is  asked  for,  but  the  "finality"  of  the  purpose.  If  the  intent  is 
pointed  out,  thought  becomes  satisfied ;  and  then  every  detail  of  the  mechanism  is  found 
worthy  of  closer  inspection,  since  it  is  seen  to  partake  of  the  purpose  of  the  whole.  As  soon 
as  any  detail  becomes  irrelevant,  that  is,  if  the  purpose  can  be  realised  without  it,  then  that 
part  is  thrown  out  as  an  encumbrance.  The  machine  is  simplified  because  its  aim  is  to  econ- 
omise. Hence  it  is  more  to  the  purpose  to  take  out  the  encumbrance,  so  that  an  improve- 
ment, perhaps,  may  be  put  in  its  place. 

We  now  venture  to  assert  that  there  is  no  entity  thinkable  per  se,  which  would 
lack  all  relation  to  a  higher  aim  than  what  it  has  in  itself.  Even  the  random  heap 
of  sand,  the  most  indefinite  formation  imaginable,  is  more  than  mere  being,  because 
not  intended  for  itself  alone.  That  sand  is  of  more  import  than  at  first  appears  ;  we 
shall  yet  see  how  it  exceeds  its  actual  reality.  For  all  real  being  exists  with  regard 
to  something  else,  which  determines  its  value  according  to  its  being  subservient  to 
that  something  else.  This  relation  to  its  purpose  is  what  renders  any  object  valua- 
ble.   The  purpose  is  the  reason  for  any  entity. 


I.  B.  CH.  I.  §  17.  ANTITHESIS  OF  THOUGHT  AND  MATTER.  47 

"Dead  matter  "  and  its  ag'glomerations  would  be  unmeaning.    The  existence  of  an  irra-   ^  «nothing"  is 
tional  thing  we  cannot  conceive.    If  anything  is  nothing  to  us,  that,  of  course,  does  not  say    inconceivable. 
that  it  is  nothing  to  the  whole.    The  thought  of  nothing  is  therefore,  as  Descartes  said,  not 
demonstrable.    It  has  been  found  by  Max  Mueller  that  there  is  something,  yea  a  great  deal, 
even  in  the  Nirwana.    The  thought  of  a  purposeless  life  is  akin  to  suicide,  and  even  this  can  j^,.^^^^  j^  ^j^^  fancied 
not  be  perceived  without  raising  the  question  "  why  ?  "    For  these  reasons  we  see  some  sense  state  wherein  all 
in  the  great  sand-deserts  if  viewed  from  their  historical  relations,  from  the  aspect  of  their  neutralise".* 
unity  with  the  whole. 

We  have  the  genesis  of  the  concept  of  purpose  in  that  everything  real  exists  in 
order  to  conform  to  an  equivalent  value.    The  attribute  of  quality  assigned  to  it  The  tendency  of 
postulates  its  purpose,  v^^hilst  purpose  in  turn  stipulates  its  value.    Thus  we  derive  tion  of  purposed' 
the  cognition  of  a  world  full  of  purposes.   The  world  as  a  whole  with  all  its  component 
parts  receives  its  significance  from  this  all-controlling  concept  of  a  realisation  of 
final  purposes. 

Following  out  this  line  of  thought,  we  arrive  at  the  great  antithesis  apparent  in 
the  world  around  us,  viz:  the  contrast  between  thought  and  matter.    Analysing  the  ^o^^^ift^and^ 
mode  of  existence  in  the  world  of  life  as  it  is  given,  that  is,  considering  it  from  the  matter, 
aspect  of  interacting  causes  and  effects,  we  find  the  complex  workings  of  life  de- 
termined by  thought,  underlying  it  all.    We  find  that  world  of  life  to  be  nothing  else  Matterjs^thought  inth« 
but  thought  in  the  process  of  substantiating  itself,  aspiring  to  embody  and  thus  to  substantiating  iueit 
express  itself  in  the  extending  objectivity  of  the  world.    This  is  the  Idea  which  hover- 
ed before  Spinoza,  Fichte,  and  Hegel     In  order  to  do  this,  thought  needs  energy,  ierye  the  end"^? 'Se 
substances,  means.    Thought  makes  them  subservient  to  itself  by  way  of  appropri-  „f^ though*.^'"*  ^'"^^' 
ating  them  in  order  to  subject  them  as  means  for  this  end,  hence  the  objective  self- 
projection  of  thought. 

A  glance  at  plant-life  may  illustrate  this.  The  construction  of  the  vegetable  world  is  evi- 
dently based  upon  design,  determined  by  a  formative  principle.     Obviously  the  design  is  im- 
planted, inwrought  with  the  peculiarities  each  plant  possesses,  independent  of  external  condi-  pg^j     j^  piant-life 
tions.    The  influences  from  without  upon  its  typical  principle  may  cause  abnormal  forma-  can  not  be  altered  or 
tions,  even  artificial  improvement;  but  they  can  not  alter  the  ground  plan.    The  influence  othfr  type*! ''^  *°^ 
ceasing,  the  plant  will  return  to  its  generic  type.    Much  less  can  such  influences  supplant  the 
ground  plan  by  types  at  variance  with  the  primitive  and  inwrought  character.    For  this  is  not 
to  be  reduced  to  chemical  processes,  or  to  a  number  of   moving  atoms,  or  to  a  hap-hazard 
combination  of  molecules. 

The  naturalist  will  maintain  that  the  coherence  of  homogeneous  particles,  forming  ever 
more  differentiated  species  of  organic  structures,  depends  on  those  higher  grades  of  arrange-  Vegetable  life  is  not 
mentin  the  vegetable  structure  Avhich  are  regulated  by  the  characteristics  appearing  in  the  p^rocesses  nor  to'th?^ 
more  perfect  species.     Very  well ;  this  particular  norm-prescribing  principle,  hereditary  in  electro-magnetism  of 
the  ascending  scale  of  vegetable  life  is  the  ground  plan  we  speak  of,  the  devised  scheme,  the     ™°^'''" 
engrafted  project,  the  vital  force  which  makes  plant-life  what  it  is  in  contrast  to  crystal  life. 
In  accord  with,  and  through  this  principle  the  purpose  reveals  itself.      We  desist  as  yet  from  Development  reveals  the 
showing  that  purpose,  for  which  matter  is  thus  prepared  and  guided  up  to  the  formation  of  purpose.  Sec.  21. 

higher  organic  life,  for  which  it  makes,  to  which  it  aspires. 

Bossuet  found  the  same  inherent  design  in  relation  to  purpose  and  described  it  thus: 
All  that  shows  order,  proportions  well  chosen  and  means  fit  to  produce  certain  effects,  inherent  design. 
shows  also  an  express  end,  consequently  a  formed  design,  a  regulated  intelligence    °''''^^'  ^^^^' 
and  a  perfect  art.    What  Janet  syllogises  as  to  the  catena  between  final  cause  and 
ultimate  effect  also  corresponds  very  well  with  our  line  of  thought— giving  even  the 
reason  for  the  adage  that  history  throws  its  shadows  ahead:    "When  a  complex  com- 
bination of  heterogeneous  phenomena  is  found  to  agree  with  the  possibility  of  a 
future,  and  which  was  not  contained  beforehand  in  any  of  these  phenomena  in  partic- 
ular, then  this  agreement,  being  comprehensible  to  the  human  mind  only  by  suppos-  uSÄforlLnism. 
ing  a  kind  of  preexistence  of  the  future  act  itself  in  an  ideal  form,  transforms  the  fact 
at  the  instant  of  its  realisation  from  a  result  into  an  end— then  we  have  a  final  cause." 

An  inner  purport  is  necessarily  to  be  ascribed  and  attributed  to  every  object  of 
organic  life,  an  intention  for  development  by  means  of  a  more  and  more  articulated 
organism.  This  purport,  characterising  organic  life,  does  not  acquire  the  organs 
from  outside  as  something  alien  to  the  organism,  not  in  a  m^hanical  manner.  But 
as  many  as  are  needed  are  produced  by  the  organic  life  itself  under  the  norm-giving  Ä'^'^tÄ  no*"-' 
and  constructive  principle,  for  the  sake  of  and  in  conformity  with  the  whole  organism  ^'"^'"^  p^n^ipie- 
in  which  all  the  developed  organs  or  adapted  structures  have  their  significance  and 
unity.    The  many  are  for  the  sake  of  the  one  whole  organism,  and  that  whole  conveys 


48 


BODY  AND  SOUL— SEPARABLE. 


I.  B.  CH.  I.  §  18. 


The  thought  or  purpose 
inherent  In  organism— 


SOUL. 


The  variety  of  means 
brought  forth  form — in 
their  arrangement  for 
the  purpose— the 
BODY. 


Mechanical  action  of 
nature  declines,  after 
the  highest  forms  of 
physical  life  is  reached. 
Its  further  purpose  is 
disintegration. 


The  soul  alone  conveys 
in  itself  the  thought  of 
purpose. 


Hence  the  soul  separable 
from  matter  Sec.  6. 

The  thought  of 
purpose  takes  its 
course  through 
the  stages  of 
natural,  rational 
and  moral 
qualifications  and 
modifications. 

Sec.  3,5,9,  12,  24, 116, 120. 


The  soul  is  the 
quintessence  of  nature 
individualised  for  the 
above  purpose. 


its  purport  which  also,  on  the  other  hand,  is  not  acquired  since  or  through  the  develop- 
ment from  without.  The  organism,  as  a  whole  is,  moreover,  held  together  by  its  pur- 
pose, so  that  it  may  become  a  means  for  a  greater  purpose  in  wider  relations  be- 
yond its  own  sphere.  The  purport  or  tendency  to  carry  out  finality  is  what  gives 
unity  to  the  whole  combination  in  subservience  to  the  general  purpose.  This  purpose 
is  the  thought  which  interlinks  the  chain  of  changes  through  causes  and  effects. 

§  18.  Purpose  is  thought  in  the  act  of  objectivising  itself;  thought  projected  is 
matter,  is  the  means  for  the  self  realisation  of  the  purpose.  Suppose  now,  we  denomi- 
nate this  unit  of  the  purpose  "the  soul";  Ebrard  called  it  the  "Law  of  Becoming;"  and 
Hegel  too,  for  that  matter.  It  surely  is  the  thought  inherent  in  things,  the  meaning 
or  sense  which  we  found  in  them.  This  granted,  then  the  variety  of  means  wrought 
out  by  the  living  organism  which  conditions  their  entity  and  unity— outside  of  which 
those  means  can  have  neither  purpose  nor  being— would  constitute  "the  body". 

Purport,  then,  is  purpose  in  its  process  of  becoming  realised;  it  is  thought,, 
substantiating  itself— by  projecting  the  means  in  behalf  of  the  unitary  purpose— in  the 
organism,  that  is,  developing  the  organism  as  a  means  for  realising  itself,  for  its  own 
sake.  Thus  purpose  becomes  the  soul  as  a  unit,  while  the  means  in  their  connection 
and  oneness  of  purpose  become  its  body,  which  consists  in  the  variety  of  means  and 
exists  merely  for  the  sake  of  the  purpose,  i.  e.  for  the  sake  of  its  soul. 

The  means,  the  single  organs  in  their  connection,  receive  their  adaptness  and 
significance,  i.  e.  their  purport,  from  their  relation  to  the  common  purpose  managing 
the  whole-from  their  relation  to  the  soul.  The  body  possesses  its  ideal  and  its  unity 
in  the  apprehension  of,  and  adaptation  for,  the  purpose.  The  organism  is  substantia- 
ted purpose  in  which  the  antithesis  of  body  and  soul  finds  its  synthesis,  its  identical 
individuality.  Mechanical  interaction,  the  chemical  process  of  the  alteration  of  mat- 
ter is  reduced  to  mere  instrumental  and  secondary  purport,  relating  alone  to  the 
body  in  which  nature's  purpose  ends.  The  physical  processes  have  no  further  import 
for,  or  relation  to,  a  higher  purpose— no  immediate  purport  with  regard  to  the  pur- 
pose of  the  soul.  After  functional  life  ceases,  the  chemical  inorganic  life  continues 
its  mere  formal  purpose  of  disintegrating  the  material  elements,  because  they  are 
intended  solely  for  the  cycling  life  of  the  lower  sphere. 

The  unit  of  purposes,  on  the  other  hand,  the  soul  continues  to  convey  the  thought 
of  purpose  to  higher  forms  of  life  or  modes  of  existence  serving  the  spiritual  purpose, 
where  the  purpose  and  value  of  matter  exhausts  itself  or  ceases.  Hence  the  soul  is 
separable  from  matter.  The  multiplicity  of  elementary  or  secondary  purposes  has 
been  exalted  to  the  sphere  of  qualitative  unity,  from  which,  by  the  substantiation  of 
tliought,  they  had  become  differentiated,  and  for  the  sake  of  which  they  had  been  em- 
braced and  used  as  means  by  the  thought  of  design. 

In  order  to  render  the  gradual  revelation  of  this  thought  of  design  in  the  sub- 
stantiated purpose  more  explicit,  we  state  the  chain  of  our  syllogising  thus: 

The  physico-psychical  organism  was  intended  to  lead  up  to  rational  existence 
that  very  matter,  which  before— in  its  irrelative  and  detached  mode  of  existence, 
multiplying  by  the  differentiation  of  means— seemed  rather  indifferent  to  tlie  pur- 
pose. And  that  very  same  material  substance,  which— prior  to  its  elevation  into  the 
sphere  of,  and  consequent  participation  in,  rational  life— appeared  to  be  of  no  purpose, 
proved  itself  fit  for  the  purpose  in  the  form  of  select  material,  and  served  its  part  in 
the  graduation  of  the  purpose. 

For  it  is  the  issue  of  the  natural  order  of  things,  it  is  the  end  for  which  the  natural 
world  exists,  to  serve  the  spirit  in  its  unity  as  a  means  for  its  objectivation  and  ex- 
pression— as  its  polarity.  For  this  end  spiritual  essence  substantiated  itself  as  the 
thought  of  purpose  in  the  concrete,  and  to  this  end,  in  order  to  be  materialised,  the 
individual  purpose  entered  the  transitory  unifying  stage  in  the  organism  of  personal 
life.  It  is  here  where  the.  intensified  purpose-the  soul-where  the  ends  and  issues  of 
the  natural  and  instrumental  purports  in  their  concentration  are  realised;  where  the 
very  soul  and  quintessence  of  nature  appears— individualised  in  the  highest  differ- 
entiated organism;  where  on  the  scope  of  personal  life  the  soul  is  embraced  by  thfe 
spirit,  and  its  unique  purpose  becomes  evident. 


r.  B.  CH.  1.  §  1«.  MORAL  COSMOS  OF  HIGHER  PURPOSES.  49  • 

Here  the  process  of  mutual  appropriation  and  permeating  penetration  tran-  xhe  soui-s  ur  ose  to  b« 
spires.  Here  the  qualification  or  fitness  for  the  still  liigher  aims  of  the  purpose  is  tk,n'bewl£°Sr*'aL 
measured  by  the  moral  standard.  *he  spiritual  essence  in 

*"'-"  •'  personal  life; 

Through  the  ethical  process— this  is  the  true  element  in  Rothe's  system— the 
natural  world  is  designed  to  be  appropriated,  we  may  say  sublimated,  and  elevated  ^theS^iiu'lSdrrd'*** 
by  the  spirit  which  is  engrafted  into  it.    Nature,  in  the  form  of  the  rationalised,  ""?„,"  „"„t  vaful"'  '** 
personified  soul,  obtains  in  mind  its  permanent  value,  finds  its  rest  and  ultimate  Tru^^ement  in  Eothe-* 
purpose.    The  mind— the  combination  of  individualised  natural  soul-life  with  the 
personifying  and  unifying  spiritual  essence— being  intended  for  the  most  sublime 
mode  of  real  existence,  finds  its  purpose  in  the  consummation  of  its  personal  union 
with  the  spiritual  world  of  equipoise  or  perfect  equanimity  in  yonder  world  of  real- 
ised purposes,  absolute  reality  and  perfection. 

We  spoke  of  the  natural  world  as  being  predisposed  or  designed  to  convey  matter 
i.  e.  substantiated  and  willing  thought  of  purpose,  up  to  the  sphere  of  moral  quality 
in  human  nature. 

In  equal  manner  is  history  designed  to  conciliate  sovereign  thought  with  its  ^ 

.  .     J.    •  'J.X  ^1  ^   J  !•£         '4.x.  11  x  X     .    .     Immanency  of 

object,  1.  e.  with  confined  or  arrested  life,  with  unrevealed  purpose— its  raw  material»  the  purpose  in 

as  it  were,  to  be  prepared  and  to  be  led  up  to  better  conditions,  to  an  existence  th?moraV cosmos 

worthy  to  live.    It  is  the  intent  or  object  of  history  to  win  over  the  raw  material  of  nÄi  cosmos^* '"  ^^'' 

nature-bound,  or  arrested,  or  unredeemed  human  life  to  the  established  purpose. 

History  works  to  win  life  from  all  ethnological  circles,  and  persists  in  urging  them 

on  to  higher  attainments.    Just  as  we  saw  the  copiousness  of  living  creatures  in 

progressive  degrees  of  development,  so  we  may  expect  a  variety  of  historic  material  inTntroduci'i^g  the**"^^ 

in  stages  of  development  and  degrees  of  value,  being  worked  out  through  rounds  of  thTworw  ortrue"^  *** 

ages  and  made  subservient  to  higher  purposes.    In  the  moral  cosmos  we  clearly  dis-  '^^^'*^' 

cern  that  progress  in  which  the  thought  of  humanity,  its  destiny  and  its  life,  is  re-  ttTe'^eveiatiJn't'^  '^ 

vealed  more  and  more,  and  is  sheltered  from  endangering  situations,  so  that  human-  thoughTof*'' °*  *^* 

ism  may  unfold  and  philanthropy  fully  realise  itself,  so  that  mind  may  gain  the  Eumantty  and^ 

control  over  the  mere  physical  force-substance.  philanthropy. 

This,  speaking  in  a  general  way,  is  the  purpose  of  history.  It  mirrors  that 
which,  in  a  very  abstract  but,  we  trust,  in  a  correct  way,  we  tried  to  formulate  in  the 
preceding  section. 

Bacon  blamed  the  sterility  of  the  sciences  up  to  his  time,  upon  the  false  deductive 
method  of  seeking  explanations  of  matters  known  but  not  understood  from  purposes  -methods/- "'z:**' 
—instead  of  seeking  their  explanation  by  induction  from  efficient  causes.    He  gave  a  pSiidS ?^ue. 
loud  warning  against  the  abuse  under  which  a  true  view  of  nature  is  mutilated,  on  c'aTsesT  ^^"^''* 
account  of  which  nature  is  treated  with  contempt,  and  through  which  it  is  degraded 
to  serve  hollow,  not  holy  opinions. 

This  is  still  to  be  deplored  in  cases  where  the  purpose  is  conceived  as  existing 
apart  from  the  objects,  where  it  is  only  brought  to  bear  upon  things  in  a  mechanical  "  ^**" '"  **"^*"- 
way  from  outside,  instead  of  demonstrating  the  reason  of  things,  whereby  alone  they 
can  become  objects  and  obtain  their  value. 

Not  only  the  natural  sciences  were  thrown  into  confusion  by  the  false  methods. 
More  than  they,  was  history  made  to  suffer  from  distortion,  misconstruction,  and  ar-  wrong  purposes 
bitrary  application  of  its  manifestations  and  teachings.    All  sorts  of  purposes  were  ^^""^^^  ^  *'*^**"^- 
interpolated,  in  order  to  derive  such  principles  from  it,  which  were  to  serve  corrups 
purposes.    History  was  made  to  serve  as  witness  to  falsehoods  imputed  to  it,  which 
were  entirely  foreign  to  its  real  course. 

The  whole  aspect  changes,  however,  as  soon  as  the  immanency  of  the  purpose  is  purpose  per  se: 
understood  and  this  truth  is  established.    Then  purport  gradually  reveals  itself  as  seibst-zweck,  in  history. 
"the  final  purpose  ",  purpose  per  se,— Selbst-Zweck. 

Droysen  in  his  «'Histories"  corroborates  our  exposition,  saying:    "The  secret  of 
all  motion  is  the  purpose."    This  discovery  came  just  in  time  to  confirm  what  we  drotskns  corroborawon 
were  trying  to  demonstrate.    In  these  few  words  the  dawn  is  signalised  of  the  revolu-  °*  *^'^  pregnant 
tionising  import  of  those  pregnant  paragraphs  17  and  18. 

The  course  of  history,  incessantly  moving  toward  the  mysterious  future,  would  Movement  in 
be  as  meaningless  as  the  nonsensical  machine,  if  it  did  not  reveal  the  thought  of  its  havea^g?ai!    §3. 
purpose  in  rising  degrees;  if  we  could  conceive  no  true  and  valuable  object  in  it;  if 


m 


Is  there  any  other 
purpose  than  that 
immanent  in  history  ? 
Sec.  101,  218. 


LAWFULNESS  IN  NATURE  AND  HISTORY.  I.  B.  CH.  IE.  §  19. 

there  were  no  higher  ends  in  view  for  humanity,  no  goal  where  higher  purposes  will 
be  realised.  History  would  be  utterly  nugatory  if  we  could  not  draw  on  a  sum  of 
clear  and  beneficial  profits;  if  its  value  could  materialise  nothing  in  the  interest  of 
true  philanthropy. 

Taken  for  granted  that  actors  and  actions  have  a  value  or  a  purpose,  then  there 
is  a  reason  in  history.  The  single  question  remaining  open  is,  whether  the  purpose 
immanent  in  history  is  the  only  one.  The  answer  will  appear  when  the  plan  of  his- 
tory comes  to  be  discussed. 


The  order  in  which 
means  are  employed  to 
reach  the  ends. 


Lawfulness  not  from 
mere  natural  necessity; 
but  arising  in  thought, 
to  adjust  and  perpetuate 
•the  "purpose"  to 
"finality." 


Reason  applies  the  idea 
of  regulative  rules  to 
warrant  the  competency 
of  reason  itself. 


"  Fitness  of 
things" 

is  the  law  inherent  to 
occurrences  :  i.  e.  their 
adaptness  to  their 
effectuality;  it  is  their 
"motif." 

Truths  of  Mechanical 
Occasionalism  and  of 
dynamic  mechanism  apt 
to  be  harmonised. 

Sec.  4,  15,  17. 


CH.  11.    THE  LAW  OF  HISTORICAL  DEVELOPMENT. 

§19.  In  order  to  reach  a  certain  end,  means  must  be  employed.  And  if  they  are 
expected  to  do  proper  work,  more  than  mere  probability  must  be  presupposed  of 
them.  They  must  not  only  be  suitable  for  a  definite  purpose,  but  also  stand  ready  for 
service  at  the  place  and  time  needed.  We  have  no  use  for  fortuitiveness,  disorder, 
probability,  nor  for  occasional  accomodation  and  gradual  adaptability,  Each  agent 
is  demanded  to  be  at  the  post  of  his  service  so  as  to  be  relied  upon  in  the  great  com- 
bination of  life's  emergencies.  If  the  order  of  means  were  insecure  or  deranged,  the 
rationality  of  the  purpose  would  be  thrown  back  into  doubt.  The  means,  then,  must 
appear  in  spatial  and  temporal  order,  where  their  fitness  will  be  affirmed  by  their  en- 
suing effects.  They  will,  moreover,  enter  into  operation  under  conditions  which 
make  their  occurrence  a  prognosticable  certainty.  The  regularity  and  unerring  cer- 
titude of  their  effects— conditioned,  of  course,  by  the  noninterference  of  restraining 
counteractions,  and  by  persistent  competency— awakens  a  feeling  not  only  of  secur- 
ity and  of  the  fitness  of  things,  but  also  of  appropriateness  under  the  sway  of  judicious 
laws. 

The  best  proof  for  the  constant  energy  and  effectiveness  of  these  laws  lies  in  the 
unquestioned  dignity  ascribed  to  them,  whenever  natural  necessity  is  even  made  the 
pattern,  instead  of  the  analogy  or  corollary,  of  those  moral  laws,  which  govern  hu- 
man affairs  in  the  sphere  of  personal  life  above  the  natural.  Those  scientists  who 
unwittingly  furnish  this  proof  elevate  the  lawfulness  under  discussion  so  high  as  to 
declare  the  moral  law  superfluous  and  as  being  supplanted  by  "natural  necessity." 

In  fact  we  all  are  used  to  attribute  so  much  rationality  to  the  chain  of  ac- 
tions, that  our  reason  attaches  the  rule  of  the  law,  i.  e.  the  thought  of  adjustment, 
as  specific  laws,  to  tlie  occurrences  themselves.  We  cannot  help  doing  this,  because 
reason  not  only  demands  for  its  satisfaction  the  thought  of  the  final  purpose,  but  it 
also  applies  the  idea  of  a  regulative  rule  in  order  to  understand  the  fitness  of  things, 
and  to  be  sure  of  the  soundness  of  reason  itself.  In  no  other  way  can  the  consist- 
ency and  competency  of  reason  be  warranted. 

Notwithstanding  the  truth  of  this  axiom,  some  may  rejoin,  that  nowhere  in  na- 
ture had  they  found  laws,  which  certain  phenomena  were  bound  to  obey.  It  may  be 
enlarged  upon  that  it  only  seems  to  us  as  if  nature  was  penetrated  by  lawfulness,  be- 
cause our  sensibility  is  affected  by  such  conjunctions  of  concurrences,  which  happen 
in  the  same  ways  and  under  equal  conditions. 

In  order  to  secure  the  explanation  of  lawfulness  in  the  universe  against  all 
misleading  premises  or  irrelevant  inferences,  it  may  be  added  that  nothing  demands 
our  attention  save  these  concurrences,  and  that  every  consideration  not  pertaining 
to  their  respective  chains  of  phenomena  must  be  ruled  out  of  order— whilst  every  as- 
sured recurrence  of  certain  changes,  following  the  same  given  impulses,  must  be 
taken  into  account. 

Despite  these  exceptions  taken  in  the  pleading  for  natural  necessity,  we  feel  in- 
clined to  make  use  of  our  liberty  to  try  a  hypothesis  and  to  bring  forth  our  evidences 
in  its  support.  We  posit  the  supposition,  that  the  "  fitness  of  things  "  is  inherent  in 
the  occurrences  and  is  not  a  mere  fitness  of  things  in  a  transcendental  order  or  in 
forensic  motives.  We  need  this  supposition  in  order  to  reason  correctly,  that  is,  con- 
sistently with  the  reason  of  things  and  in  accord  with  the  laws  of  logic. 

We  suppose,  then,  that  the  adaptability  to  the  ruling  principle,  the  law,  lies  in 
the  very  motive  energy  itself.    (If  this  can  be  substantiated,  then  the  error  of  "  Me- 


I.B.  CH.  11.  §  19.  NATURAL  AND  MORAL  LAW  IN  UNISON.  51 

chanical  Occasionalism  "  is  corrected,  and  the  truth  which,  as  it  seems,  "  dynamic  " 
mechanism  wants  to  establish,  is  admitted  and  utilised.) 

AYlierever  a  force  stirs,  moves,  works—there  it  follows  an  inner  method,  and  owes 
its  direction  to  its  own  law.    Force  can  not  be  described  nor  systematised  in  any 
other  way.    Force  only  becomes  apparent  in  the  order  of  phenomenal  series,  hence  of  thought  over ' 
we  are  accustomed  to  call  law  what  is  nothing  else  but  our  conception  abstracted  matter  and  facts; 
from  what  we  observe,  and  imagine  to  know,  about  the  nexus  of  recurring  appear-  of^he^rfghtSf" 
ances.    Law,  in  fact,  is  the  power  of  thouglit  as  exercised  upon  matters  and  facts,  in  JJem ."  ^  ^""*^*^* 
order  to  express,  in  this  manner,  its  right  of  ctiutrolling  them  ;  thus  regulating  their 
mutual  relations  and  subsequently  their  qualitative  attributes ;  also  manifesting 
that  right  of  thought  in  making  matters  the  means  of  announcing  itself,  and  mak- 
ing them  to  adliere  to  the  thoughtful  arrangement  for  their  own  sakes. 

In  what,  then,  does  the  authority  of  this  individualised,  or,  if  you  please,  hypos- 
tatised  law  consist?  We  answer,  in  the  fitness  of  things  ;  in  the  appointed  direction 
of  force,  and  in  the  selection  of  what  substance  is  to  move  toward  a  certain  result ; 
in  the  regular  arrangement  of  means  to  a  certain  end.    This  arrangement,  selection, 
adjustment,  and  direction  of  means  to  explicit  purposes,  is  exactly  the  same  forma- 
tive reality  in  natural  life,  as  that  which  m  the  sphere  of  personal— physico-psychico- 
spiritual— life  is  called  mind.  (The  appellation  rationality  or  reason  would  be  inade- 
quate and  insuflacient.)    It  is  the  reason  of  things— i.  e.  that  part  of  the  purpose  in-  it  is  the  manifes- 
wrought  into  them— which  ordains  and  directs  forces,  and  contrives  at  means,  and  *o*jP"^*  ht  to 
arranges  and  disposes  of  masses  ;  which  conducts  the  movements,  effectuates  events,  live  in  union  ^ 
and  acts,  so  as  to  realise  its  end.    Law  is  the  manifestation  of  the  soul's  right  to  live  ^**  *  ®  spirit, 
in  union  with  the  spirit,  that  is,  to  realise  itself  as  the  purpose.    This  is  our  concep- 
tion of  the  reality  of  the  natural  law. 

Wherever  we  find  the  fitness  of  arrangement  under  an  apparent  guidance  as  re- 
ferred to,  there  we  recognise  reason  in  the  conformity  of  facts  to  law,  or,  if  to  some 
another  word  would  sound  better — we  find  homogeneity.    If  we  ourselves  make  such 
arrangements,  we  want  them  to  be  consistent  with  the  fitness  of  things  in  general ; 
we  require  of  them  to  be  reasonable  theoretically  and  practically ;  we  expect  of  them 
as  proof  thereof,  that  they  answer  a  certain  chief  purpose.    The  motives,  as  we  call  unison  wfth  *^ 
the  differentials  between  the  law  and  its  direction  toward  the  purpose,  these  motives  ™orai  law.    §7,9. 
are  adjustable,  since  the  natural  law  is  in  unison,  and  at  bottom  one,  with  the  moral 
law.    The  authority  and  power  of  all  law  lie    in  its  being  a  continuously  operating  Srl^Sacrs^con^" 
unit  which,  as  the  manifestation  of  thought,  knows  how  to  adjust  circumstances  and  jTurporJ*^'"'''*^  "* 
to  direct  relations  very  strictly — on  the  whole.    There  is  no  contradiction  in  this  all- 
embracing  lawfulness  ;  here  is  the  sphere  where  right  is  might. 

It  is  very  significant  that  we  had  to  enlarge  upon  this  explanation.    Whoever  is  initiated 
into  the  intricacies  of  sophistry  about  natural  and  divine  rights,  needs  not  to  be  informed    The  domain  of 
that  we  occupy  contested  ground.      Before  we  can  procure  our  title  of  legitimate  occupancy  lawfulness, 
—to  the  examination  of  which  the  fifth  chapter  shall  be  dedicated— we  must  first  determine 
the  province  of  law.  ,^ 

Renouviers  (Les  Principes  de  la  Nature),  in  his  suggestive,  altho  unsatisfactory  manner,  French— monistic— 
entertains  a  similar  view  of  force  being  identical  with  law.    Taking  the  offensive  against  philosophy  goes  far  to 

,  ,  .    ,  ,  coroborate  our  line  of 

dynamo-mechanical  evolutionism,  he  brings  out  arguments  which  corroborate  our  syntheti-  argumentation. 

cal  conclusion.    He  looks  upon  common  matter  as  the  vehicle  of  a  radiant  energy  of  force.  K*^"'^''^ '="**•         ®*- 

In  the  formation  of  living  things  the  physical  and  chemical  laws  seem  to  work  as   "under 

plastic  guidance".    When  his  "monads"  of  a  superior  "order"  appear,  then  the  phenomena 

ensuing  need  new  laws  to  exhibit  them.      "Living  matter  must  be  "the  space-corollary"  of  a 

form  of  psychic  existence  superior  to  that  of  which  dead  matter  is  the  adequate  embodiment^ 

The  connection  of  our  soul  with  the  body  in  the  "synthesis  known  as  a  person"  involves  new 

modes  of  conduct  in  the  bodily  materials  themselves,  which  out  of  that  connection  would  not 

be  found  moving  as  they  now  do,  namely  "in  the  service  of  mentally  determined  ends."    Our  Each  manifestation  of 

imaginations,  our  passions  never  occur  without  the  cooperation  of  all  our  faculties  and  acts  representTat'oKe  m 

from  degree  to  degree,  from  the  highest  organs  to  the  lowest  atoms,  being  modified  according  relation  to  other  forces. 

to  the  law.    Each  of  these  acts,  while  existing  inwardly  for  itself,  is  a  "force"  in  relation  to  „  .  ,  ,    ,, 

r>^.  ^.o.io  ...     .  1  P  ^  .  Existence  Inconceivable 

other  correlative  forces.    The  eflrects  of  these  forces  constitute  a  phenomenon  of  harmony  be-  without  such  relativity. 
yond  which  we  can  not  penetrate,  and  which  is  one  with  existence  itself ;  for  there  is  no  ex-  ^^^-  ^^'  ^^ 

istence  except  by  relations  and  communications." 

That  that  which  has  no  purpose  is  unreasonable,  Renouviers  does  not  deny.    The 
pity  is,  that  he  from  this  idea  could  not  find  his  way  open  to  accept  our  "thought"  in  fo^lSnty^f  tÄt; 
placeof  his  "monads";  it  would  be  so  easy,  natural,  and  rationaL    It  is  barely  this  »«nads put  in  its  piaci. 


Something  in  the  world 
really  wrong. 


New  biological 
hypothesis : 

an  originally 


world. 

W.  Jamss. 


Caution  needed  in  fixing 
laws  for  the  natural 
world. 


52  FRAMING  LAWS  FOR  INTERPRETATION  OF  HISTORY.  I.  B.  CH.  II.  §  20, 

prejudice  against  the  sovereignty  of  the  thought,  that  hinders  him  and  others  from 
seeing  the  way  clear  to  accede  to  our  world  of  absolute  unity,  continuity  and  freedom. 
He  transcends  the  materialistic  monism  of  the  evolution  theory  in  admitting  that  the 
congruous  concept  of  law  and  purpose  indicates  that  there  is  something  in  the  world 
really  "wrong."  And  he  comes  near  the  assertion,  of  an  original  and  entirely  ani- 
mated world,  from  which  this  partially  dead  world  has  fallen  and  is  to  be  restored  by 
redemption.— "This  is  congruent,  (William  James  said  in  the  Philosophical  Monthly, 
May  '93)  moreover,  witli  a  biological  hypothesis,  of  which  we  seem  likely  to  hear  more:  the 
®"^il*H^'^*"^°"'*^^  notion  that  dead  matter  has  evolved  from  the  living,  rather  than  living  matter  from  the 
dead." 

From  this  excursive  illustration  of  our  thesis  it  is  to  be  seen  how  much  caution  is 
advisable  in  finding  and  fixing  the  laws  of  the  natural  world.  Frequently  natural 
phenomena  are  determined  by  coincidences  of  various  causes,  which  may  mutually 
support  or  neutralise  their  effects.  In  a  case  of  such  intricate  happenings  it  is  by  no 
means  easy  to  find  the  special  law  for  each.  One  not  familiar  with  the  difficulties 
does  not  hesitate  to  jump  to  a  conclusion. 

On  the  strength  of  some  conjecture  a  seeming  law  is  readily  postulated.  The  ex- 
pert will  be  careful  in  rendering  judgment.  He  will  take  into  account  many  agen- 
cies, especially  in  fixing  the  law  of  history. 

§  20.  In  establishing  rules  for  judging  historic  events  care  and  modesty  should 
certainly  be  exercised ;  for  they  are  the  laws  whereby  descendants  judge  those  ances- 
tors at  the  bar  of  history,  who  in  their  day  and  generation  did  much  earnest  labor 
and  suffered  no  less  privation  for  the  benefit  of  posterity.  With  caution,  then,  we 
proceed  to  find  the  laws. 

History  results  from  the  reciprocal  interaction  of  the  correlative  factors:  liberty 
and  necessity.  It  is  man  unfolded,  thought  realised,  the  purpose  differentiated  into 
a  countless  variety  of  purposes;  and  it  tends,  under  the  practical  forms  of  every-day 
life,  toward  the  complete  union  of  the  two  worlds  in  the  human  mind.  The  natural 
part  of  man,  to  which,  as  we  have  seen,  the  whole  of  nature  contributes  and  belongs, 
is  subject  to  natural  lawfulness.  But  exempt  from  the  dependency  of  this  realm 
where  necessity  holds  sway,  is  that  side  of  personal  life,  which  remains  intimately 
connected  with  the  "world  of  formal  unity",  and  which  is  not  necessarily  and  never 
directly  influenced  by  natural  life.  Hence,  altho  laws  can  be  abstracted  from  histori- 
cal data  which  actually  rule  the  temporal  life  of  man  individually  and  collectively, 
yet  nations  as  well  as  persons  are  subject  to  them  only  to  a  certain  extent,  under 
conditions  and  circumstances  well  definable. 

To  this  category  belong  the  laws  by  which  climate  affects  human  destiny.  Ow- 
ing to  them  the  Southern  Aryans,  inhabiting  the  low-lands  of  the  Ganges,  are  char- 
acterised by  that  gloomy,  brooding  mood  of  the  mind,  which  dulls  all  energy  and 
kills  personality.  It  is  a  melancholy  sight  to  see  a  nation  of  several  hundred  mil- 
lions of  people  held  in  check  by  a  few  thousand  foreign  conquerors;  whilst  other  cli- 
matic influences,  have  assisted  the  Germanic  nations,  their  kinsfolks,  to  become  an 
industrious,  hardy,  liberty-loving  people— the  standard-bearers  of  civilisation. 

Let  us  here,  once  for  all,  state  that  wherever  we  speak  of  the  Germans  in  these  pages,  we 
mean  what  is  explained  in  §45.  In  addition  we  trace  German  blood  even  in  the  Hidalgos  and 
in  the  savants  of  the  Paris  of  today.  All  three  Romanised  (the  Latin)  nations  contain  as  much 
German,  as  Roman  or  Celtic  elements.  The  tribes  with  scarcely  any  mixture  are  those  be- 
tween the  Alps,  Rhine  and  Elbe,  and  the  Scandinavians,  from  whom  the  Normans  set  forth 
about  a  thousand  years  ago.  Hence  the  Anglo-Saxon  Americans  are  always  included  v/ith 
first  honors. 

Geographical  situation  has  much  to  do  with  nutriment,  tho  the  temperament 
of  a  nation  is  never  entirely  depending  thereupon,  and  laziness  is  not  to  be  reduced 
to  the  absence  of  cold.  Modes  of  character  may,  more  than  we  think,  depend  upon 
modes  of  life  and  victuals,  so  that  Moleschott,  on  that  score,  was  not  so  much  out  of 
the  way,  when  he  said,  that  the  Javanese  and  the  negroes  of  Suriname  will  remain  in 
subjection  to  the  Dutch,  as  long  as  they  feed  upon  rice  and  banana.  Yet  all  this  can 
not  discourage  our  hope  that  something  can  be  made  out  of  these  nature-bound  peo- 
ple notwithstanding  their  poor  food. 


Modesty  to  be  exercised 
in  establishing  rules 
for  judging  historic 
events. 


Activity  of 
history  partly 
under  natural 
necessity  but 
partly  in 
freedom. 


The  limit  of 
evolution. 

Natural  determinations 
well  definable 


Human  destiny  affected 
by  climes,  etc. 


Examples : 


Hindoos  in  contrast  to 
Germans. 


Javanese. 
Moi.EscHon. 


I.  B.  CH.  II.  §  20.       INFLUENCES  UPON  NATIONAL  CHARACTER  FORMING.  53 

To  environments    belong   the  effects    caused  by  the  law   of   motion.      This  Historical  course  under 
in  a  special  manner  modifies  human  development.    We  shall  have  to  say  a  great  deal  '""'  °*  ™°*'°" 
about  polar  tension,  a  strain  by  wliich  the  great  family-opposites  act  and  react  upon 
each  other.    Ethnic  polarity  works  in  such  depths  as  to  be  scarcely  noticeable,  yet  ^^^^ 
not  less  distinctly,  persistently,  and  beneficial  as  the  system  of  gulf-streams  or  of  the  poia"ritieT  ** 
electro-magnetic  fluxes.    There  are  the  mysteries  of  the  centripetal  and  centrifugal 
power,  drawing  and  binding  great  masses,  affecting  thereby  individual  life  without 
the  individuals  becoming  conscious  of  it.  . 

These  occult  influences  cause  those  differentiations  of  the  masses  by  which  all 
life  continues  to  aspire  to  higher  formations.    The  laws  underlying  these  processes  giesTnllisto?^^" 
work  effects  in  history  similar  to  those  of  natural  fissuration,  segmentation,  cell-di-  Sränaw^Yml''  "* 
vision,  etc.,  upon  which  the  propagation  and  growth  of  plants  and  animals  depend*    f^whlKoSlie  SiL 
These  laws  operate  in  migration  and  colonisation,  in  the  excretion  of  defunct  matter,  iondagl'Tnarurai 
in  the  precipitation  of  unfit  material.    They  may  be  observed  wherever  nations  sud-  «^«^««^'^y- 
denly  rise,  or  gradually  become  stagnant  in  their  public  life  ;  where  people  wilt  and  centripetal  and  centri- 
wither  after  periods  of  prime  and  bloom  without  yielding  fruits  of  any  account  ;  *"^''^  ^'^''"^'■ 
where  people  finally  disappear  with  the  forests  they  cut  down  or  burned,  after  their 
welfare  had  run  down  in  proportion  as  their  springs  disappeared. 

The  natural  laws  prevail  in  proportion  to  mental  and  moral  neglect  and  they 
recede  according  to  the  advance  of  true  civilisation.    They  largely  direct  the  alter, 
nate  stratification  of  "  lower  "  classes  and  "  upper  crusts ",  of  castes  and  outcasts  . 
and  they  frequently  help  to  shape  political  oppositions,  breaking  through  the  strata 
from  below  in  answer  to  the  percolations  of  licentiousness  or  to  the  aggravating 
pressure  from  above.    They  are  active  where  polarity  sharpens  the  social  contrasts 
into  class-hatred,  and  where  nations  are  split  into  parties  ready  to  extirpate  each  ^^™'°^^  articulation; 
other.    Upon  all  such  movements  these  laws  throw  their  imponderable  weight.    Be-  stratification; 
side  the  law  of  first  germinal  articulation  pointed  to  the  fact  of  stratification.    The 
formation  of  more  or  less  hereditary  and  castelike  classes  acts  analogous  to  Volta's 
pile,  if  our  figurative  speech  is  not  pressed  too  far.    By  that  stratified  condition  of 
certain  people  a  tension  is  established,  which  is  necessary  to  incite  retarded  life  to 
action  ;  or  to  arouse  the  thwarted  dignity  of  selfhood.    Manliness,  abandoned  before, 
80  as  to  allow  nature  to  rule  and  to  degrade  human  beings  into  mere  things,  will 
then  no  longer  allow  men  to  be  spoken  of  as  "  labor  on  the  market."    Thus  caste  acts 
upon  caste,either  stimulating  and  exciting,  or  conservatively  and  as  a  sedative.  Each 
claims  the  strength  and  service  of  the  other,  both  balancing  each  other  in  the  limits 
of  their  functions.    Thus  the  social  ranks  may  be  compared  to  electro-magnetic  bat- 
teries in  that  they  contain  at  the  same  time  the  energy  of  apathies  and  sympathies  ; 
discharging  currents  which  now  paralyse,  now  enthuse  and  electrify  the  masses;  now  National  differentiation 
with  clannish  jealousies  and  then  again  with  a  kind  of  involuntary  public-minded-  poiar[ty"imiiarto° 
ness.    Here  we  meet  laws  which  become  demonstrable  even  in  the  cystic  incrusta-  nkwton"'*^''^  ""  sec^.li. 
tions  and  agglomerative  affinities  of  our  own  surroundings.    It  seems  to  be  a  historic  cross-breeding: 
law,  that  only  such  races  and  families  improve  by  "  crossing  ",  which  stand  related  "^**"'^'^i  ^^^«'=*'<'°- ' 
by  neither  a  too  close  nor  a  too  remote  kindredship.    In  the  proper  degree  the  infu_  Sasse?  ***  *''^''*'  "'^°'* 
sion  of  new  blood  affords  not  only  a  transient  incentive  but  creates  even  nobler  spe- 
cies.   If  the  distance  of  relationship  is  abnormal,  then  malformations  ensue  from 
such  unions,  and  the  weaker  element  becomes  defunct. 

It  seems  to  be  a  law  that  the  periodical  assaults  of  rude  nations,  possessing 
youthful  vigor,  generally  stimulate  people  or  dynasties,  which  labor  under  superanu-  natLns""^  "^°° 
ated  culture,  to  new  exertions  of  defense  at  least :  and  that  by  the  amalgamation  of 
the  conquered  with  the  conquerors  dynasties  and  nations  are  rejuvenated,  which  were 
almost  exhausted  by  over-refinement  and  effeminacy. 

It  seems  to  be  indispensable  that  nomade  tribes  break  in  at  critical  turningpoints . 
of  history,  in  order  to  supplant  imbecile  dynasties  by  elevating  their  leaders  from 
the  saddle  to  their  shields  and  to  the  thrones  they  have  declared  vacant.    Some  na- 
tions, it  seems,  needed  repeated  invasions  to  keep  them  awake  and  alive,  and  that  on  indications  of  providen. 
their  account  regions  became  exhausted,  or  others  were  deluged  by  sands  or  waters,  wwiÄureTbroV* 
or  rendered  uninhabitable  by  the  drying  up  of  extensive  lakes,  whereby  peoples  were  to  bear  upon  wstory. 
coerced  to  wander  and  to  push  themselves  into  the  territories  of  those  who  needed  to 
be  aroused. 


u 


UNDULATIONS  OF  HISTORIC  EPOCHS. 


I.  B.  Ch.  II.  §  20. 


Rhythm  in  epochal 
neurrences. 


Polarity  balancing 
fashions. 


We  are  children  of  our 
times. 


Spontaneity  of  ideas. 


•with  respect  to  the 
changes  of  anarchism 
Into  despotism. 


Reflex  nerve-action,  i.  t 
fatigue  with  respect  to 
progressiveness  and 
«ouservatism ; 


Inquiry  into  certain 
laws  leads  to  heights 
Inaccessible  to  scientific 
investigation. 


The  Hmit  of 

physical 

conditions 

bearing  on  history  is 
precisely  delineable 
where  the  influences  of 
the  spiritual  side  of  the 
mind  become  manifest. 
Sec.  1,  5,  19,  24,  57,  101, 
219. 


Most  of  the  European  aggregations  and  many  of  Asia  were  thus  compelled  to 
cease  their  internal  feuds  and  to  organise  states  and  political  state-systems.  This 
for  instance,  was  the  apparent  reason  for  the  Germans  being  harassed  by  the  visita- 
tions of  Attila's,  Dgengis-khan's  and  Soliman's  Hungary-Polish  and  Tatary-Turkish 
hordes,  in  the  years  A.  D.  444,  888,  1214,  and  1688. 

And  most  probably — to  take  another  illustration  of  the  balancing  power  of  po- 
larity—the fluctuations  of  public  tastes  or  ruling  fashions  also  must  be  reduced  to 
nervous  relaxation  and  reaction,  or  an  analogous  physical  law.  There  arises  a 
pleasure  in  contemplating  a  foreign  ceremonial,  or  an  admiration  of  ancient  art. 
The  fancy  becomes  more  than  satiated  by  a  craze  for  Rococo  style  or  for  Chinese 
decoration  until  the  taste  for  each  of  them  in  turn  suddenly  slackens.  We  have  a 
symptom  of  fatigue ;  reaction  sets  in;  Queen-Anne  style  or  some  other  fad  agitates  the 
factories  and  the  bazars.  The  polarity  and  the  tension  move,  repulse,  and  attract,  so 
that  the  display  of  forces,  thus  disengaged  and  generated  and  transferred,  makes  com- 
motion perpetual  and  not  altogether  disadvantageous. 

Trifling  as  the  caprices  of  fashion  and  custom  are^yet  even  such  of  us  have  to  obey 
the  laws  of  their  removal  or  revival,  as  think  ourselves  above  its  tyranny.  There 
is  truth  in  the  phrase,  that  we  are  children  of  our  time.  While  meditating  upon  rul- 
ing laws  of  desire  and  satiety  and  discontent  in  their  reversed  order  of  sequels,  we 
are  unable  ourselves  to  escape  the  power  of  a  catch-word,  or  the  enchantment  and 
effect  of  a  ruling  idea— or  the  whims  of  our  tailor. 

There  is  a  sway  of  natural  lawfulness  propelling  the  contagious  and  spreading 
power  of  ideas  which  often  has  assumed  the  form  of  an  epidemic ;  exciting  the  masses 
and  rushing  them  along  into  the  vortex  of  wild  enthusiasm.  It  generates  that  in- 
fectious fear,  which  instinctively  stuns  everybody,  and  instigates  the  frantic  ragings 
of  heedless  crowds,  of  the  unbridled  rabble. 

Natural  law,  furthermore,  shows  its  signs  of  changing  polarity  in  the  interactions 
betweentheprogressivenessof  emancipating  tendencies  and  the  hesitancy  of  conserva- 
tism. What  a  ponderous  problem  for  ethnological  psychology  is  presented  in  the 
regularity  with  which  anarchy  ever  turns  into  despotism,  easily  altho  not  entirely 
explicable  as  it  seems  by  giving  fatigue  as  a  reason.  In  the  excitability  of  political 
hopes  and  fears  we  see  the  regard  for  the  law  of  obstructive  and  promotive  forces  in 
the  processes  of  life— the  very  forces  which  are  in  the  purposes  of  the  "forethought." 
As  laws  of  polarity  they  are  in  close  relation  with  the  laws  of  gravitation— tho  the 
oscillations  of  the  pendulum  regulating  this  sphere  are  beyond  calculation.  There 
is  a  rhythm  of  epochal  recurrences,  tho  their  causes  may  remain  inexplicable  and 
their  intervals  can  not  be  measured. 

Above  all,  there  are  many  more  signs  of  the  dominant  position  of  natural  neces- 
sity as  regards  personal  life,  to  which  we  must  submit,  without  being  able  to  account 
for  them  by  any  hypothesis.  Natural  laws  are  the  prerequisites  for  the  growth  of  a 
multitude  of  empirical  sciences  and  for  technical  adroitness.  Through  all  kinds  of 
inherited  qualities  and  acquirements,  and  in  all  sorts  of  accomodations  to  surround- 
ings; and  in  the  mechanism  of  "reflex  action"  from  repeated  sense-perception,  they 
exert  their  silent  influences.  They  manifest  themselves  as  the  all-embracing  and 
modifying  power  of  usages  and  habits.  The  inquiry  into  the  laws  of  the  rise  and 
spread  of  ideas  in  any  age,  and  their  exhaustion  after  their  force  is  spent,  leads  to  in- 
explorable  realms.  Those  laws  of  historic  expansion  and  contraction,  exaltation 
and  depression,  and  the  order  in  which  they  alternate— all  point  toward  the  height 
of  half-embodied  spirit-life,  that  height  which  is  inaccessible  to  scientific  investiga- 
tion. Our  not  understanding  them,  however,  does  not  necessarily  prevent  us  from 
seeing  lawfulness  in  what  proceeds  from  thence. 

Yet  all  that  lawfulness  is  powerless  after  a  certain  limit  is  reached.  The  effects 
upon  history  caused  by  nature  differ  from  those  caused  by  spiritual  influences  in  a 
degree  similar  to  effects  of  waves  of  light  or  sound  upon  those  receptacles  of  sense- 
perceptions— the  sensitised  keyboard  of  the  sensorium,  as  it  were— in  their  contrast 
to  the  conceptions  of  the  work  of  art  formed  by  the  ontogenetic,  creative  conscious- 


I.  B.  Ch.  IIL  §  21.  LIMIT  OF  NATURAL  DEVELOPMENT.  65 

There  will  always  be  minds  rising  above  the  level  of  mere  law-regulations;  al- 
ways a  few,  who  do  not  submit  to  prejudices,  false  tendencies,  and  capricious  public 
ouinions:  who  care  little  for  the  praise  or  disdain  of  the  world.    There  always  will  be  influence  of  men  of 

,  ,  j,i  1.  X»  T  «j-'j^i.  •       •!  genius  upon  historic 

great  characters,  who  outgrow  the  law  of  growth  and  maintain  their  superiority  as  progress. 
regards  the  law  of  relapse  and  retrogression.    For  here  we  have  approached  the 
sphere  of  mind-life  proper,  where  the  genius  reigns. 

The  origin,  growth,  and  effect  of  a  school  of  painters  may  serve  as  an  illustration.  In  as- 
cending degrees  the  followers  of  a  particular  master  may  improve  in  correctness  of  drawin^Ti   „    .^ 

_,,  ,  o  ij^i         ii^  ij.      ü  i-  J  •  •        '         Manifestations  of  the 

in  technique  of  colors,  etc.  This,  of  course,  altho  the  result  or  practice  and  experience  is  tiie  si.irit  in  men  who  excel 
mere  formal,  nonessential  part  of  the  art.  The  essential  part  is  the  ingenuity  of  the  master  ""^«^^  lawfulness. 
and  founder  of  the  school.  He  is  celebrated  and  held  in  highest  esteem,  until  a  still  greater 
artist  arises,  who  sets  aside  the  whole  sum  of  previous  achievements,  and  digresses  from  the 
trodden  path  of  a  traditional  rule  of  aesthetics.  Independent  of  the  drawing- master  and  of 
former  theories  of  color,  he  will  render  another  set  of  techniques  suitable  to  his  ideals,  en- 
hancing thereby,  perhaps,  the  general  state  of  the  culture  of  his  age. 

Recall  to  mind  how  prominent  explorers  in  the  fields  of  astronomy  and  chemis- 
try, for  instance,  had  the  courage  to  break  the  fetters  of  time-honored  doctrines  and  e^^pi«'«": 
biasing  views,  and  were  successful  despite  the  derision  of  their  contemporaries. 
Think  of  the  religious  reformers  of  all  zones,  how  they  animated  large  strata  of  re- 
tarded life,  elevating  whole  races  to  a  better  consciousness  and  more  profound  con- 
victions, by  bursting  the  incrustations  of  distorted  traditions  and  heinous  usages,  ^®'°™*'"- 
wide-spread,  hoary  with  age,  and  seemingly  inseparable  from  the  lives  of  the  nations. 

Reforms  consist  in  abolishing  such  customs  as  result  from  mere  natural  develop- 
ment and  which  in  that  lower  sphere  have  become  still  more  base,  abnormal  and  cor-  ^°""p*'**''  ''**"''*s'ec.*67! 
rupt.    Or  they  counteract  the  poison  oozing  from  the  corpses  of  national  bodies 
which  died  of  their  abominations,  the  poison  which  is  ever  carried  along  by  a  certain 
historic  undercurrent. 

In  the  spheres  of  the  True,  the  Good  and  the  Beautiful,we  everywhere  see  mental 
life  endeavoring  to  preserve  or  to  regain  its  proper  freedom.    The  cardinal  inquiry  inquiry  chiefly  concern- 
concerning  these  spheres,  therefore,  is  not  about  that  which  stirs  up,  provokes  and  coincide*  with  the^ian 
challenges  the  laws  ruling  in  history,  but  that  which  seeks  the  law  and  abides  by  it,  whSro^keVlnd  *^''* 
submits  to  its  rule,  thus  coinciding  with  the  plan  in  history.  Before  we  proceed  to  in-  ruUngThistorj!'''^ 
vestigate  that  problem,  however,  sundry  preliminaries  may  be  necessary,  which  are 
obtainable  in  the  best  way  by  looking  at  the  great  movements  of  history  at  large. 

CH.  III.     HISTORIC  MOVEMENT.    NATURAL  COROLLARIES. 

§21.    Motion  and  development  are  to  be  strictly  discriminated.    The  terms  con-         .     „ 
vey  distinctly  different  conceptions.    The  cognition  of  motion  does  not  include  the  not**impiy  a?m ; 
momenta  of  progress  or  of  purposes  which  are  contained  in  the  term  development.  "Development"  implies 
Motion  as  such  is  aimless  and  merely  serves  the  latter.    To  the  mineral  kingdom  de-  a'^nafpurpi^e.**'  ^  ^"^^ "' 
velopment  is  not  attributed.    We  speak  of  it  only   where  motion  serves  to  unfold, 
only  in  the  activity  of  the  organic  world.    The  term  motion  takes  in  the  wider  scope. 

In  the  astral  world  we  have  the  great  circuitous  movements  of  revolving  masses. 
In  this  purely  mechanical  concurrence  they  serve  in  measuring  the  distance  of  time  the7^rgan"ic3ridf 

,.  .         .  .  J.  ..  .  ,.  development  takes  placo 

and  space,  and  in  perpetuating  certain  commotions  going  on  upon  our  planet.    In  in  the  organic  aione. 

our  world  the  ponderous  masses  of  stone  are  conductors  of  incomputable  motion  and 

polarity ;  our  whole  earth,  oceans  included,  receives  impulses  and  irritations  from 

the  movements  going  on  in  the  firmament,  movements  so  rapid  as  to  appear  to  us  as  "Firmament-  dead 

the  emblems  of  absolute  rest,  of  solemn  silence,  yea,  devotional  quietude.    True,  we  force.'' 

are  as  yet  unable  to  fix  the  causes  of  the  regularity  in  the  rotation  of  planetary 

solids  and  fluids.    But  if  by  conjecture  we  can  ascertain  how  motion  all  around  us 

becomes  apparent  and  measurable,  so  that  we  can  reason  backward  and  apply  the 

measure  found  to  the  divisions  of  astral  measurement  which  prove  correct  to  the 

second— then  we  may  in  like  manner  conjecture  the  effects  of  sidereal  motion  upon 

the  knowledge  gained  from  experience.    Why  should  our  inferential  conclusion  not 

also  claim  an  approximate  correctness? 

The  moving  star  plays  its  part  in  revealing  the  relationship  between  matter  and  Bearing  of  sidereal 
motion.    By  the  movements  of  matter  nothing  but  the  fact  is  rendered  explicable  °'"'^*"*''*src^°i!2r5r2?! 
that  elements  change  places.    But  what  power  they  are  possessed  of  is  only  brought 
to  view  by  observing  the  phenomena  of  attraction  and  repulsion.    Hence  we  hold 


56 


Force  in  motion 
becomes  sub- 
stance in  the 
concrete. 


Force  in  motion  is  the 
self-assertion  of  life, 
substantiating  itself  by 
virtue  of  the  purpose,  to 
«stablish  the  relation  of 
existence.  Sec.  43. 


The  purpose  indicates 
forces  as  the  means  for 
its  self-incrustation  or 
embodiment,  for 
materialising  itself. 

Sec.  17, 


Generation  of 
force  in  the 
social 
development. 


The  power  dormant  in 
nature-bound  races. 
Permanent  motion  of 
bodies  toward  each 
other. 

KiBCHHOFF,    LOTZE. 

Sec.  22. 


It  is  the  purport  of  mo- 
tion to  give  expression 
to  the  purpose  in  its 
establishing  relation- 
ships. Sec.  19. 


Motion  in  the  concrete. 
The  firmament  emblem 
of  absolute  rest. 


'Fluxion"  of  Newton. 

Sec.  20. 


Motion  at  rest  as  applied 
to  people  unnoticed 
In  history,  but  yet  of 
consequence. 


MOTIVE  FORCES  IN  SOCIAL  ORGANISMS.  I.  B.  CH.  III.  §  21. 

that  force  is  the  characteristic  feature  of  motion.-  Without  this  motive  principle 
neither  the  motion  of  masses  nor  of  their  parts  would  be  thinkable.  The  mutual' 
tendency  of  finding  itself  or  fleeing  from  itself  is  inseparable  from  matter.  Hence 
force  and,  ultimately,  motion  can  not  be  subtracted  from  matter.  Dead  matter  is  an 
impossible  idiosyncrasy,  since  force  can  never  be  observed  as  accessory  to  matter- 
but  is  always  demonstrable  as  its  essential  attribute.  Perhaps  matter  is  found  to  be 
the  substance  subsisting  upon  force,  which  becomes  force  in  the  concrete  whilst  it  is 
moving. 

The  purport  of  forces  set  free  in  the  living  organism  aims  at  the  embodi- 
ment of  its  principle  ;  through  assimilation  it  embodies  itself  to  increasing  thick- 
ness and  surrounds  itself  with  means.  The  consequence  of  this  increasing  selfln- 
crustation,  or  of  this  accumulating  encasement,  or  of  this  selfassertion  of  life,  sub- 
stantiating itself  according  to  the  thought  of  purpose  by  virtue  of  its  indwelling  en- 
ergy, is  the  generation  of  new  forces.  Thus  we  have  now  concurrent  motion,  com- 
motion. AflSnity  and  accumulative  assimilation  are  the  first  phenomena  of  induced 
motion,  i.  e.  disengaged  or  liberated  force— as  soon  as  the  latent  force  is  aroused 
by  breaking  the  lifeless  bulk  of  consolidated  matter. 

In  the  social  organism  the  very  same  series  of  generations  will  be  found.  Take 
the  promiscuous  mass  of  an  uncultured  people  in  which  the  powers  of  historic  move- 
ments lie  dormant.  More  than  we  see  upon  the  surface  of  individual  life  is  force  ac- 
tive in  attraction  and  repulsion.  More  and  more  the  adjustment  of  affairs  causes 
modifying  changes.  Tribal  groups  represent  the  first  accumulations.  The  immedi- 
ate effects  are  marked  by  a  general  pushing  and  shifting  in  the  crowded  locality. 
Additional  force  is  generated  ;  more  warmth  is  set  free  by  friction  and  expansion  ; 
migration  is  the  result.  In  such  a  permanent  state  of  internal  commotion  from 
latent  heat  and  growth,  we  actually  find  the  bulk  of  uncultured  masses,  altho 
history  in  general  becomes  scarcely  aware  of  it,  as  long  as  the  motive  principles  of 
that  latent  force  are  not  called  forth  by  other  powers  and  set  free  to  expand  for 
higher  purposes. 

Nowhere  in  nature  is  rest  or  inertia  to  be  found.  "  The  particles  of  those  bodies 
even  are  in  permanent  motion  toward  each  other  (says  Kirchhoff )  which  seem  to  us 
hard  and  immovable."  "Not  a  particle  of  all  that  exists  is  dead  or  motionless," 
Lotze  corroborates.  Nothing  can  be  perceived  as  being,  unless  being  related  to  some- 
thing. But  without  motion  there  is  no  relation.  .Take  relation  away,  and  existence 
is  inconceivable.  (This  thought  of  Dr.  Rocholl  was  in  print  before  Renouvier's  similar 
conclusion  had  been  published.) 

And  this  relationship  upon  the  premises  of  motion  and  force  (the  rudimentary 
element  of  all  created  life)  includes  the  idea  of  purpose.  In  that  sense  the  sand  of 
the  dunes  and  the  block  of  granite  are  but  force  bound  up,  motion  in  the  concrete^ 
motion  substantiated,  life  compressed,  like  that  which  is  presented  to  the  mind  b* 
the  term:  firmament  I  Affinity  penetrates  the  universe  and  all  therein,  and  adhesion 
holds  together  and  keeps  up  the  secret  connection  among  all  the  things  related  to 
each  other— by  means  of  the  incommensurable  "fluxion"  of  Newton. 

Analogous  to  this  seeming  inertia  of  nature  is  the  life  of  the  hordes  upon  the 
steppes,  or  of  those  people  who  must  be  assigned  to  the  lowest  notch  in  the  scale  of 
historic  life.  They  are  moved  by  as  great  a  variety  of  compulsive  and  repulsive  in- 
citements, by  pleasure  and  pain,  etc.  as  any  high-wrought  human  being,  tho  their 
commotion  influences  or  reflects  upon  history  no  more  than  the  compressed  life  and 
the  oppressive  silence  of  the  Rocky  Mountains.  Such  people  were  ever  full  of  life,  as 
they  still  are,  just  as  the  mountains  contain  the  powers  which  make  them  the  back- 
bone of  a  hemisphere.  Forming,  as  these  people  do,  and  as  we  shall  see,  the  basal 
substratum  of  the  human  race,  their  movements  cannot  be  morally  indifferent;  even 
they  possess  qualifications  which  contribute  a  certain  value  to  history,  whereby  they 
become  objects  of  great  import.  Were  it  otherwise,  their  emotions  and  the  commo- 
tions ensuing  would  not  fit  into  the  order  of  things.  But  since  the  idea  that  there 
ever  existed  a  people  void  of  any  trace  of  culture  is  unwarranted  and  since  a  mere 
supposition  of  that  sort  would  be  absurd— they  are  rather  people  of  consequence,  the 
purpose  of  whose  existence  will  evince  itself  throughout  all  history. 


I.  B.  Ch.  m.  §  21.  VITALITY  IN  PROPORTION  TO  REST.  57 

In  motion  history  originates;  motion  sets  it  in  operation;  but  rest  also,  being  la-  in,portance  of  rest,  i.e. 
tent  motion,  plays  a  very  significant  part  in,  and  does  much  for,  the  activity  of  man-  '***"*  ""*'**"• 
kind. 

Life  is  a  process  of  renewing  itself  out  of  itself.    At  regular  periods,  at  certain 
points  of  ascent  and  decadence,  rest  supersedes  motion.    These  periods  of  rest  are  the  renewal ^^'^^^  ^ 
opportunities  for  recreation  and  concentration,  that  is,  for  gathering  renewed  force. 
Ooingto  sleep  means  to  the  human  body  the  restoration  of  nerve-tension;  not  only 
the  saving  of  the  given,  but  also  the  accumulation  of  new  strength.    The  same  is  under  tension  of 
true  of  the  large  bodies  of  nations  with  whom  the  change  bears  the  character  of  a  ^^  **^»**^s. 
natural  necessity,  in  proportion  as  their  intellectual  life  is  less  apt  to  recover  part  of 
the  required  strength  from  a  different  source.    It  is  to  them  necessary  for  the  same 
physical  reasons  that  childhood,  first  and  second,  needs  more  sleep  than  the  mentally 
vigorous  and  well  supported  organism. 

The  import  of  our  conclusion  becomes  obvious.    Zoelln^r  says:  "During  sleep  the  sieep  the  opposite  from 
organism  is  busy  to  refresh  and  replenish  forces  and  faculties  for  the  active  thinking  Ippuldto  ethnical  ufe. 
and  doing  of  the  coming  day.    In  like  manner  are  these  epochs  of  intellectual  ''^^'■'^^''■ 
standstill  or  retrograding  culture  times  of  recuperation  for  themoral  instincts.*» 
Such  is  the  fact,  only  that  we  would  prefer  the  word  sentiency  to  instinct. 

In  sleep  the  "machine"  seems  to  stand  still,  because  the  incessant  working  of  the 
physical  organs  and  of  the  soul,  going  on  in  the  unconscious  state  and  in  the  lower 
departments  of  natural  life,  are  less  esteemed.   We  generally  deem  them  as  unessen-  sSunderÄd,"""^ 
tial,  because  the  governor  of  all,  for  which,  as  a  matter  of  course,  reason  is  taken,  has 
retired.    We  forget  what  work  is  going  on  in  the  various  inner  departments  for  his  the^o'^rnoT  of  Sfty 
sake.    We  lose  sight  of  that  motion  by  which  new  vitality  is  contracted  and  those  en-  ^^  ''^*"'^'*"  ^ 

ergies  are  stored  up,  which  are  in  demand  for  future  mental  and  corporeal  activi- 
tie.s.  We  are  apt  to  neglect  the  truth,  that  behind  the  screen  of  seeming  inertia  the 
nourishing  of  the  several  systems  and  their  hundreds  of  sub-divisions,  the  indispensa- 
ble changes  of  physical  stuff,  the  secretions  of  vital  saps,  and  the  excretion  of  the 
noxious  refuse,  are  taking  place  undisturbed.  In  no  more  salutary  manner  than  in 
sound  slumber  can  the  forces  spent  be  recruited  and  the  reenforcements  be  marshal- 
led again  into  rank  and  file,  and  the  means  be  put  in  proper  state  of  readiness  accord- 
ing to  the  needs  of  consciousness  when  returning  to  its  day's  work. 

No  less  needful  are  those  periods  in  the  lives  of  nations,  during  which  every  sign  peopi«  with  arrested 
of  mental  progress  has  disappeared,  periods  which,  nevertheless,  are  times  of  invigora-  päp'lratorS^toSre 
tion  and  preparation  for  some  great  event  in  the  future,  when,  perhaps,  even  to  them  reformation^''*^'  * 
shall  be  assigned  an  important  role  in  the  reconstruction  of  humanity. 

Of  a  movement  of  history  as  a  whole  —advancing  as  it  does  after  a  method  of 
rhythmical,  or  rather  fugue-like  arranged,  synchronisms  and  anachronisms— we  can  move^iike  f fugu^- 
only  speak  in  metaphors.    All  we  can  do  is  to  classify  or  systematise  specific  series  of  anTchronums  ^d*" 
of  similar  situations  by  severing  the  historic  motions  from  their  contemporaneous  ^^''"°'"^™^- 
connection,  and  then  to  arrange  the  grades  of  advance  into  series  of  dates  according 
to  the  consecutive  order  of  time.    Notwithstanding  the  cumbersomeness  of  the  proce- 
dure the  following  results  are  gathered  together. 

The  uninterrupted  current  of  history  never  runs  smooth  like  a  pleasure  trip  down 
the  river  of  time:  it  rather  runs  through  and  across  the  ocean  with  its  cycles  of  rising 
and  submerging  billows.    This  is  as  necessary  to  the  world  of  nations  as  it  is  to  jidai  motion  as 
nature.    Tides  stopping  would  mean  general  stagnancy  and  would  cause  putrefaction  ^^^^^^^  ^  ^'^^^  " 
in  every  domain  of  organic  life. 

The  motion  in  the  moral  sphere,  to  be  sure,  differs  from  that  in  the  natural. 
Motion  provides  the  natural  sphere  with  the  equilibrium  of  gravity.  Movement  in 
the  moral  sphere  must  serve  to  balance  between  predispositions  for  either  inertia  and 
lestiveness,  or  insomnia  and  restlessness. 

Nobody  may  compute,  where  the  rush  and  push  of  energy  will  exhaust  itself,  or 
where  and  when  the  reaction  of  apathy  will  begin  to  resist  even  normal  progress.    So 
much  is  sure:  no  energy  can  be  lost.    And  so  much  we  may  venture  to  state,  that  the  By  serving  each 
tendencies  of  motion  in  space  with  their  contrasts  of  expansive  strain  and  concentric  ^ahfta^n  ^^^^^ 
pressure,  are  always  under  the  tension  of  this  polarity.    By  serving  each  other  they  themselves, 
obtain  their  force  to  maintain  themselves. 


58 


Motion— relation : 
aeoUt       BowKB. 


Continuity  of 
every  energy. 


Undercurrent  of 
noiseless  progress. 


Definition  of 
"POIiAB  TENSION." 

Tensions  of  polarities 
propelling  the  move- 
ments: conditioning 
motion  and  rest, 
exertion  and  exiiaustion, 


Sudden  catastrophies 
less  Important. 


Analogies  of  silent  but 
pawerful  movements 
ifkux  geology. 


Steady  and  tranquil 
movements  in  history 
analogous  to  those  in 
nature. 


E.  g.  the  settlement  of 
America. 


Ethnical  strata  as  in- 
dicated by  languages 

e.  g.  the  sequence  of 
Tumian,  Accado- 
Sumerian,  and  Semitic 
layers. 

Movement  in 
history  partly 
natural 

but  none  such  as  that 
of  a  mechauical 
perpetuum  mobile. 

Mere  movement 
represented  by  a 

straight  line— 

the  course  of  which  is 
not  calculable  in 
advance. 
Yav  Hoevkx. 


MOVEMENT  AND  DEVELOPMENT.  I.  B.  CH.  III.  §  22. 

By  and  by  we  will  probably  find  that  the  vexatious  categories  of  time  and  space  will 
find  their  synthesis  in,  and  be  reduced  to,  the  same  formula.  Borden  T.  Bowne  in  his  Intro- 
duction to  PsychologicalTheory  settles  this  problem  with  Mill,  Part  I.  Chapter  4. 

Power  and  aeon  (Zeit-raum)  remain,  at  any  rate,  the  prerequisites  for  every  pro- 
gressive and  retrogressive  movement.  Beneath  the  surface  of  the  scenes  of  action, 
there  is  always  moving  the  undercurrent  of  that  noiseless  progress  which  becomes 
recognisable  only  post  eventum.  It  is  there,  where  an  equalisation  and  amelioration 
a  transmission  and  transition  of  ideas  is  going  on,  no  less,  if  not  more  formidable, 
than  the  revolutions  and  their  counteractions  alternate  upon  the  broad  plane  of 
history.  Motion  and  rest,  exertion  and  exhaustion  propel  the  historical  movements. 
With  regard  to  their  continuance  and  intervening  stops  we  dare  not  omit  to 
consider  a  few  more  items. 

§  22.  Geology  and  history  throw  light  upon  each  other  in  certain  respects  as  to 
their  silent  but  powerful  movements  under  the  law  of  "polar  tension,"  that  is,  in 
their  common  subordination  under  the  relationship  between  purpose  and  force  in  the 
concrete. 

Looking  over  the  history  of  the  crust  of  our  earth,  we  seldom  notice  any  other 
but  those  energies  in  action,  which  silently  and  steadily  produce  the  most  portentuous 
changes.  Sudden  catastrophes  are  usually  of  a  mere  local  character.  Gradual  wash- 
ings, scourings  of  rocks,  and  glacial  drif tings  of  the  moraines,  sediment  from  slowly 
moving  elevations  and  submersions  have  wrought  changes  of  no  less  import  than 
eruptions  and  floods. 

There  lies  a  granite  block  which  broke  from  a  mountain  hundreds  of  miles  away, 
carried  that  distance  by  a  slowly  moving  glacier  which  on  its  way  down  smoothed  off  rocks, 
carved  out  long  and  broad  valleys,  and  formed  narrow  passes,  all  on  the  same  journey. 

Yonder  rocky  layers  covering  hundreds  of  square  miles,  were  produced  by  the  still  and 
steady  work  of  almost  invisible  creatures  of  the  animal  kingdom,  and  by  their  death.  The 
faded  shells  of  the  seamussel,  brought  to  light  by  miners  who  worked  a^mile  or  two  above  sea 
level;  the  luminous  crystal,  deeply  imbedded  in  the  primeval  granite;  the  round  pebble, 
ground  and  smoothed  by  currents  of  water  during  centuries  before  time  was  measured,  and 
now  found  below  thick  and  alternating  strata  of  alluvium,  shifted  down  upon  them  from  the 
mountain  slopes— to  all  of  these  it  once  happened,  that  they  were  put  in  their  places  and  were 
given  their  shapes  by  the  formidable,  quiet  movements  of  natural  forces. 

In  an  analogous  manner  the  silent  work  of  history  transpired,  unavoidable 
eruptions,  sudden  overthrowings,  invasions,  and  conquests  are  not  the  rule,  but  in 
most  cases  local  affairs.  As  a  general  thing  we  observe  the  weightier  transactions, 
the  migrations  and  colonisations,  to  be  the  lasting  effects  of  slow  and  unobserved, 
so-called  prehistoric  movements. 

Since  we  are  now  enabled  to  trace  out  the  shif  tings  and  drif  tings  of  the  rhythmical 
masses,  let  us  do  so.  The  raging  torrents  of  sudden  start,  and  the  lasting  occupa- 
tions of  territories  in  consequence  of  them,  were  rare  events.  The  settlement  of 
new  countries  usually  proceeds  less  turbulently,  as  illustrated  in  that  of  North 
America.  The  pressure  in  the  rear  was  caused,  perhaps,  by  the  gradual  change  of 
fields  of  pasture  into  arid  sand-steppes.  The  shifting  movement  of  the  people,  thus 
becoming  nomades,  goes  in  the  direction  of  more  favorable  regions.  First  the  high 
plateau  was  preferred  on  account  of  a  feared  inundation.  Then  the  rivers  were  fol- 
lowed down  to  their  fertile  bottom-lands. 

Thus  the  stratifying  material  is  sliding  down  layer  upon  layer.  We  notice  this 
process  in  the  formation  of  languages,  where  one  supersedes  the  other.  At  the  base 
we  have  e.  g.  a  layer  of  Turanians  ;  an  Accado-Sumerian  layer  shifts  in  upon  it ;  and 
upon  that  again  an  Assyrian,  the  Semitic  layer.  The  partial  amalgamation  thus 
traceable  signifies  the  gradual  and  long  enduring  movement.  We  need  not  always 
imagine  bloody  upheavals  and  conquests  for  an  explanation  of  lingual  changes.  We 
may  as  well,  and  rather,  take  it  for  granted,  that  a  quiet  force  moved  in  the  direction 
of  least  obstruction  and  formed  ethnic  sediments  and  strata. 

Suppose  then,  we  represent  a  succession  of  such  movements  of  history  in  general— 
because  from  the  aspect  of  the  whole  alone  can  we  understand  the  parts  and  in  this  case 
the  plan— by  an  unbroken  straight  line.  The  advance  of  political  organisation  among 
the  alternating  ethnical  augmentations  would  then  have  to  be  imagined  as  another 
line  of  culture,  running  along  with  the  first  as  to  time.    But  the  line  of  advancement 


1,  B.  CH.  ni.  §  22.  MODE  OF  CULTURAL  PROGRESS.  59 

must  not  be  drawn  straight  as  that  of  movement,  because  the  culture  line,  de-  ^^^^^^^  ^^^^^^^ 
noting  ascents  and  descents,  that  is,  representing  the  rise  and  decline  of  nations  represented  by  a 
and  of  whole  epochs  of  culture,  would  have  to  be  a  wave  line. 

But  does  this  pictorial  parallel  of  cultural  advance  afford  an  explanation  as  to  his- 
toric motion  ? 

Movement  through  space  is  natural;  cultural  advance  through  time  is  to  its 
largest  part  mental  and  spiritual.  Those  who  would  make  history  a  thing  evolved 
from  nature  pure  and  simple,  will  show  by  statistical  figures  that  movements  of  his- 
tory may  be  figured  out  like  the  distances  of  the  firmament.  They  take  movement 
and  development  for  the  same  thing.  The  consequence  must  be,  that  culture  would 
be  the  same  at  all  times  a  thing  of  mere  natural  concern. 

So  did  Van  Hoeven  lately  deny  that  culture  makes  any  progress.     He  said,  we  are  no 
further  advanced  than  the  Egyptians  of  old,  and  that  mankind  turns  in  circles,  only  to  return 
to  former  conditions.    Very  well— instead  of  parallel  wave  lines  take  the  figure  of  the  snake  culture  moves 
biting  its  tail,  that  is,  a  circular  movement  of  culture  like  those  going  on  in  the  firmament«  not  in  a  circle 
And  in  that  case  we  would,  after  all  the  hurly-burly,  be  compelled  to  reckon  culture  as  re-  §  221, 

maining  at  a  standstill.  Sometimes  it  seems  so.  It  is  a  sad  spectacle  for  the  humane  observer 
to  see  that  civilisation  in  the  side  streets  of  Paris  or  Washington  is  not  a  bit  advanced  from 
that  of  Babylon  or  Carthage.  We  actually  have  "street  Arabs."  But  we  must  postpone  the 
melancholy  theme  for  future  consideration,  until  we  shall  have  understood  more  of  the  whole. 

Only  so  much  may  now  be  stated  in  regard  to  this  parallel  between  cultural  ad_  but  in  spiral, 
vance  and  physico-historieal  motion,  that  the  latter,  as  movement,  keeps  on  straight  ponding  curvel" 
in  its  natural  line,  whilst  culture  goes  on  in  circles.  wherein  freedom  comes 

"^  to  its  right. 

By  a  mechanical  conception  of  history  advancing  toward  its  purpose,  the  moral  cre- 
ator of  history,  i.  e.  human  free  will,  is  debarred  from  its  influence.  Would  not  free 
will  under  this  aspect  have  to  be  taken  as  a  mere  extension  or  succession  of  geologi- 
cal motion,  resembling  at  best  the  hand  on  the  dial  plate,  merely  pointing  to  the 
place  in  the  circle  of  the  movement?  In  that  case  Spencerianism  would  be  justified 
in  reverting  universal  to  natural  history.  Then,  of  course,  history  must  be  calcula- 
ble by  a  system  of  statistics  and  numbers,  which  point  out  the  gradual  prolongation 
of  natural  life  as  the  highest  Good  and  most  ethical  purpose  of  modern,  progressive 
humanitarianism. 

Be  it  conceded,  for  argument's  sake,  that  under  the  scientific  sheen,  under  this 
mechanical  aspect,  life's  movements  and  human  destiny  could  be  figured  out,  and 
the  horoscope  could  be  set,  after  the  movements  of  the  firmament— then  materialistic  mlteriaustic  concept  of 
evolutionism  would  likewise  have  to  admit  that  such  calculations  are  futile.    We  on  hi  ^Ziaws  of  "^"^"^ 
our  part  can  see  no  other  purpose  in  those  experiments  than  to  amuse  ignorant  infi-  "'***'""'"• 
dels  for  a  while.    In  the  affected  scientific  agility  we  surmise  the  hidden  tendency  to 
prove  meditation  upon  the  spiritual  world  as  superfluous  if  not  ridiculous,  or  at  least 
as  stupidly  unscientific. 

But  the  derision  will  fall  back  upon  the  horoscoping  and  tabulating  of  "  dynam- 
ism." For,  says  Lotze,  "  nowhere,  not  even  in  the  transmission  or  simple  mechanical 
motion  is  to  be  noticed  a  complete  equation  between  the  causal  impetus  and  the  pro- 
duced effect.  The  result  of  the  pressure  urging  on  is  rather  determined  by  the  effi- 
ciency of  every  agency  participating  in  the  movement.  The  resulting  motion  is  the  "rtss^ureu'detefminS 
summary  of  both,  the  force  urging,  the  object  reacting.  On  the  part  of  the  object  to  t^^obSreactinf  *'"* 
be  moved,  cooperation  is  the  more  necessary,  the  more  complicated  its  constituency.  ^°"'=-  ^^^  ^i- 

Hence  there  will  be  observable  in  any  combination  of  agencies,  and  in  proportion  to 
their  variety  and  mode  of  cooperation,  a  system  of  reciprocal  interaction,  in  which  Free  win  versus  wind 
the  counter  efficients  determine  the  final  effect."  wS^Itter  is 

Under  these  circumstances  nothing  would  be  gained  for  the  computability  of  nlitler^bj^^® 
historical  movements  by  substituting  any  impersonal  principle  in  the  place  of  free  ^Jj^ef  ütion^  ^^ 
will.    The  blind  power  supposed  to  move  history  under  the  classic  name  of  "  fate  ",  §  58, 96. 

would  still  hover  like  a  dark  cloud  beyond  calculation,  to  be  vanquished  by  thought  under  the  aspect  of 

,    ,  -1  ./  o  "Dynamics     history 

no  more  than  by  superstition.    The  idea  of  history  would  remain  obscure,  and  any  «"»^t  '^main 

.  .  *^  7  J     incomprehensible, 

regularity  ot  its  course  would  be  only  the  more  incomprehensible,  if  man  were  im-  since  it  takes  man  m 

'  merely  a  system  of 

agined  as  a  complex  system  of  natural  elements  and  as  their  mere  playground.  physical  elements  and 


Fate  directing  historic  movements  upon  tracks  ever  so  even  and  straight  means 
death  to  all  thinking.    Culture  advances  in  circuitous  movements  indeed,  but  it 


their  play-ground. 


«0 


DISCRIMINATION  BETWEEN  PROGRESS  AND  ADVANCE.  I.  B.  CH.  IV.  §  23. 

tends  upward  and  moves  in  spiral,  helically  corresponding  curves,  the  curves  of  the 
nuts,  representing,  as  it  were,  the  grooves  of  natural  necessity,  and  the  threads  of 
the  screw  representing  personal  will.  And  in  these  uplifting  circles  not  only  human 
thought  but  also  human  freedom  comes  to  its  right. 


Discrimination  between 

movement 

and 

development.  §21 


Development  pertains 
to  organic  life  only, 


but  ceases  after  its  acme 
of  individualised  being 
is  reached. 


Manifold  elements  of 
being  reduced  to  the 
oneness  of  intensified 
life  in  the  seed-germ. 


Natural  development 
limited  by  decadence 
and  decomposition. 


Ascent  and  descent  of 
organic  life — as  below 
personal — represented 
by  an 

arch-line. 


The  permanent  disposi- 
tion, the  national 
temperament  of  a 
people,  consisting 
partly  of  inclinations 
toward  natural 
generalness,  partly  of 
manifestations  of  real 
mind-life,represented  by 

horizontal  lines, 

which  are  intersected  by 

vertical  lines 

representing  men  of 

energy  and  excellent 

minds. 

overlooked  by  Schabliso. 


Development  of  the 
race  as  a  whole. 

A  general  progress 
under  various  orders  of 
levelo  pment. 


CH.  IV.    HISTORIC  DEVELOPMENT— MIND'S  INTERACTION. 
§  23.    The  error  to  be  avoided  in  speaking  of  historic  progress  consists  in  identi- 
fying movements  with  developments,  progress  with  advance.    What  is  the  differ- 
ence, and  what  is  to  be  understood  by  development? 

Since  motion  does  not  explain  the  course  of  history— whose  purpose  can  be 
nothing  short  of  humanity  in  its  full  and  true  sense,  and  whose  goal  is  not  reached 
by  mere  indefinite  "progress"— we  take  it  for  granted,  that  history  moves,  at  least,  in 
the  line  of  development.  In  order  to  see  what  that  means,  we  proceed  in  our  usual 
manner.  We  first  define  the  principle  of  development  by  way  of  induction,  setting 
out  with  the  investigation  of  empirical  facts  in  natural  life.  We  are  determined  to 
secure  a  firm  hold  and  a  clear  conception. 

The  idea  of  development  is  borrowed  from  the  province  of  organised  life,  outside 
of  which  the  process  is  not  found.  Development  means  the  unfolding  of  the  inner 
wealth  of  thought,  purpose,  life.  At  present  we  confine  ourselves  to  the  unfolding  of 
physical  organisms  without  mixing  in  any  speculation  upon  relations. 

On  that  score  development  is  that  mode  of  motion  which,  after  having  arrived 
at  its  acme  of  individualised  being,  ceases  to  convey  a  definite  thought.  Vege- 
table life  develops  in  upward  movements  until  the  bud  unfolds  into  bloom.  The 
purport  of  the  plant  is  then  exhibited;  development  in  the  proper  sense  is  exhausted 
and  terminates.  The  processes  and  interactions  of  the  system  have  reduced  the  mani- 
fold elements  of  being  to  the  oneness  of  intensified  life  in  the  individualised  seed-germ. 
Plant-life  has  returned  to  its  generic  type.  All  that  follows  the  blossom  can  only  be 
considered  as  the  decline  of  plant-life,  ending  in  decomposition.  This  descent,  this 
devolution  which  is  no  longer  evolution,  does  not  deserve  the  name  of,  nor  ought  it  to 
be  considered  as  pertaining  to,  development.  For,  its  declining  stages  with  increas- 
ing clearness  represent  mere  being,  not  life.  To  merely  vegetate  is  not  to  exist.  It 
is,  therefore,  development  in  a  wider  sense,  if  the  line  of  ascent  and  descent,  describ- 
ing a  semi-circle,  is  considered  as  comprising  the  sum  of  life  in  an  organic  entity. 

With  this  geometrical  figure  as  an  emblem  of  a  compound  cognition  we  shall 
operate  to  good  advantage,  since  in  the  life  of  nations  we  deal  with  more  than 
mere  botanical  specimens. 

The  law  of  necessity  under  which  nature  labors,  and  nations  too,  "as  far  as  their 
consciousness  is  to  be  described  as  nature-bound— is  surpassed  in  man,  nevertheless, 
by  the  liberty  which  is  derived  from  the  sphere  of  spiritual  freedom.  In  the  life  of 
nations  we  see  not  only  the  aggregate  of  individualised  souls,  blossoms  of  nature  as 
they  are,  but  we  discriminate  also  a  sphere  of  voluntary  and  individual  activity  mov- 
ing above  the  natural  inclinations.  In  a  people  as  a  whole  always  exists  a  permanent 
disposition  of  which  all  personal  activity  partakes  and  by  which  the  latter  is  largely 
conditioned.  That  public  spirit,  this  fixed  national  temperament,  we  may  well  rep- 
resent by  a  horizontal  line.  But  then  we  see  how  this  is  everywhere  intersected  by 
vertical  lines  denoting  more  or  less  independent  personal  life.  Only  thus  the  fact  can 
be  explained,  why  a  nation  (determined  by  their  nature,  as  Scharling  has  it,  who  for 
this  reason  failed  to  explain  their  having  rulers),  may  contain  excellent  minds  of 
highest  aspirations,  altho  having  outlived  itself  and  plainly  bearing  the  marks  of  de- 
cadence. We  would  greatly  err  in  taking  the  conspicuous  minds  of  Plato  and  Aris- 
totle as  representing  the  mental  condition  of  their  time  and  generation  in  general. 
Isaiah,  Neander  stood  in  direct  opposition  to  the  simultaneous  decline  of  their  re- 
spective nations. 

Keeping  in  mind  this  phase  of  our  subject,  we  may  speak  the  more  appropriately 
of  the  development  of  the  human  race  as  a  whole.  For,  altho  diversified  into  self -ex- 
istent parts,  and  presenting  a  picture  of  a  manifold  articulated,  simultaneous  and 
consecutive  activity  of  interchanging  effects  in  the  frame-work  of  space  and  time- 
yet  we  have  before  us  the  unitary  process  of  a  general  progress  under  a  series  of 


I.  B.  Ch.  IV.  §  23.         SOCIAL  BODIES  DEVELOPING.— CIVILISATION.  61 

developments.   These  arise  from  the  mysterious  depths  of  the  species  homo;  they  reveal 
and  may  bring  to  the  consciousness  of  tlie  individual  a  wealth  of  inner  potentialities, 
of  wliich,  whether  becoming  conscious  of  the  possession  or  not,  each  partakes.    It  is 
owing  to  these  various  degrees  and  series  of  special  developments,  that  those  poten- 
cies within  each  human  individual  are  called  forth,  so  as  to  be  recognised  by  the  ego 
in  order  to  be  cultivated  under  the  increasing  support  of  the  whole.    But  altho  this 
individual  cultivation  may  partake  of  the  collective  facilities,  it  is  yet  a  thing  of  the  calling  forth  individual 
free  will  and  not  of  any  compulsion.    Individual  selfculture  may  help,  on  its  part,  ÄuSd'^und'erX** 
to  further  elevate  common  interests,  but  no  earthly  force  can  coerce  a  person  to  assist  Se  wÄ'"^^**^ ''^ 
in  the  improvement  of  the  social  condition.  ^    ,       ... 

^  and  under  reciprocity  of 

If  now  this  process,  thus  progressing  under  the  reciprocity  of  willingness,  is  individual  wiiungness. 
steadily  going  on,  as  on  the  whole  it  really  does,  underneath  and  in  spite  of  all  the    .    .    . 
turmoil — then  civilisation  advances  into  what  Guizot  defined  as  that  state  of  human  affairs,  Belpage'aopr^eface. 
where  society  takes  care  of  the  best  interests  of  the  individual  and  is  ready  to  appreciate  his 
good  services  in  return. 

All  of  that  which  pertains  to  such  unfolding  of  relations,  to  those  augmentative  ''^'■"*^ '''  evolutionism. 
attainments,  and  to  this  continuance  of  changing  and  enriched  formations  of  cul- 
tured life,  we  aptly  design  as  development. 

Let  us  consider  the  means  by  which  this  sort  of  evolution  is  brought  about.    We 
think  of  La  Place's  theory.    Parts  sever  themselves  from  an  original  astral  mass  of  ^  ^''""^'^  *^^^' 
condensing  gases.    By  the  rotation  of  the  main  body  they  are  carried  along  in  their 
motion,  being  attracted  by  the  regulating  forces  of  gravity.    Each  part  moves  cen-  First  principles  o« 
tripetally  towards  a  concentrating  nucleus  of  its  own,  and  centrifugally  towards  the 
solidifying  main  body.    The  whole  solar  system,  along  with  every  phase  of  natural 
evolution  as  far  as  the  sun  reigns,  can  be  explained  by  this  more  than  a  clever  sup-  JartuSowaM^^serfiiood, 
position,  namely  under  the  originally  intuitive  now  inductive  aspect  of  severance  and 
departure  toward  selfhood.    These  two,    aperture  and  detachment,  are  the  first  prin- 
ciples of,  and  the  means  for,  development.    Applied  to  organic  life  we  call  it  differ-  organic  life?" 
entiation.    The  first  cell  tends  to  unfold  itself:  for,  movement  in  organised  life  im- 
mediately shows  a  tendency  to  realise  its  purpose,  to  express  the  typical  thought  it  4^^^;^,^  ^o  unfoid  the 
represents.    It  is  the  tendency  towards  individualisation  in  the  midst  of  a  com-  EerTntVpicaUholTght 
plexus  of  combinations  which  seem  unfavorable  to  that  tendency;  whilst  all,  never- 
theless, further  its  best  interests  by  way  of  higher  differentiations. 

Unfolding   goes  on  in  repeated   extension  of  roots,  stems,  branches,    augmentations,  / 

blooming,  and  ripening  of  new  germs  of  intensified  life  for  the  renewal  and  multiplication  of 
the  species.  A  moner  has  been  discovered  in  the  Atlantic  Ocean,  named  Protomyxa  Auranti- 
aca,  which  shows  no  trace  of  differentiation.  It  is  simply  a  gelatinous,  animated  plasma.  It 
contracts  its  nourishment  by  antennae-like  protruding,  slimy  protuberances.  Then  the  tiny 
ball  contracts  itself,  excretes  a  cyst,  and,  after  a  cleavage,  the  fold  or  furrow  of  fissi-gemma- 
tion  becomes  visible.  It  separates  into  a  number  of  small  globules,  which  again  grew  to  the 
shape  of  the  parental  body.  The  same  mode  of  development  which  La  Place  adopted  for  ex- 
plaining the  formation  of  the  telescopic  worlds  in  the  firmament,  we  recognise  in  the  micro- 
scopic world  in  a  drop  of  water.    We  may  elucidate  this  mode  by  another  example. 

Observing  the  vital  movements  of  the  egg-cell  we  notice  fecundation,  fissuration,  seg-  Protomyxa  Aurantlaca, 
mentation,  detachments  and  augmentations,  in  short,  the  unfolding  of  organs.  This  is  the  tra*c™of*d'ifferentiatton 
evolution  of  the  animal  body :  a  progressive  fission  into  parts,  i.  e.  differentiation.— The  puny, 
round,  filmy  and  moving  pellicle,  this  jelly-like,  jerking  substance,  called  Amoeba,  has  neither 
mouth  nor  digestive  organ,  neither  muscular  nor  nervous  structure,  no  organ  for  motion  nor 
respiration.  All  these  services  are  rendered  by  a  viscous  mucus  through  which  nourishment 
enters  at  every  point,  while  it  moves  by  the  oscillations  of  its  fiuxional  structure,  as  an  entity 
propagated  by  self-detachment. 

Analogous  to  this  latter  example  are  all  the  functions  of  the  members  of  a  de-  ^^^^^  ^^^^^ 
veloped  organism  involved  in  the  undifferentiated  structure,  in  the  form  of  latent  po-  compound  unit*  oliafem 

...  ,  J  .  potentialities. 

tencies.  Progressive  division  of  labor  causes  the  constructive  development  of  the  ani- 
mal organism.  As  it  increases,  the  functional  energy  forms  its  particular  structural 
instruments.  All  the  functions  of  assimilation  and  propagation,  for  which  the  finest 
systematised  body  correspondingly  needs  the  most  diversified  and  adapted  organs,  are 
found  to  be  bound  up  together  or  undifferentiated  in  the  wonderful  capabilities  of 
animated  matter  in  its  most  primitive  and  simple  form. 

The  higher  stages  of  development  are  conducted  upon  the  simple  principle  of  di-  chief  pHncipVof  * 
vision  of  labor.    The  energy,  originally  resting  in  every  part  of  the  bodily  substance,  '-'e.  dW^Trlntration. 


62 


Character  of  member- 
Ship  never  abandoned. 


first  stages  of 
development: 
Spontaneous  detach- 
ment, unfolding 
articulation,  and 
systematical  distribution 
of  functions.  Sec.  5,  116. 

applied  to  the  pro- 
gressive development 
of  the  social  body, 
where  the 

organism 

becomes  an 

organisation. 


Genesis  of 
nationalities. 


First  period 

of  a  nation. 
Colonial  life. 


Folklore, 


Cultural  grade  of  a 
nation  is  determined  by 
the  higher  or  degraded 
cognisance  of  the  deity, 
to  which  everything  in 
lite  is  related. 
Sec.  13,  15,  20,  23,  24,  71, 
78,  86,  96,  125,  126,  131, 
132,  137,  139,  156,  175. 
190. 


Relation  between  Cultus 
and  Culture.  Sec.  8. 


Second  period 

in  the  development  of  a 
nation. 


DIFFERENTIATION  OF  THE  SOCIAL  ORGANISM.  I,  B.  Ch.  IV.  §  24 

undivided  and  identical,  is,  in  the  course  of  evolution,  set  free  to  assume  the  diverse 
shapes  which  the  functions  require,  until  it  anally  appears  inherent  in  a  system  of 
distinct  groups  of  structural  members  or  special  interacting  agencies.  The  perfec- 
tion of  the  animal  body  is  reached.  It  consists  in  its  fitness  of  construction  for  the 
most  complicated  functions,  in  the  aptitude  of  particular  organs  for  their  own  spe- 
cial work  and  for  that  of  the  organism  as  a  whole.  Differentiation  and  all  perme- 
ating motion  in  ever  increasing  selfhood,  mark  the  progress  of  development ;  but  in 
such  a  manner  that  the  character  of  membership  is  never  abandoned. 

§  24.  As  the  means  by  which  development  pursues  its  progressive  tendency  and 
nascency  we  found  :  spontaneous  detachment,  unfolding  articulation,  and  distribu- 
tion of  functions. 

Now  we  apply  these  factors  to  the  social  body,  the  bearer  of  history.  Here  the 
diversity  of  functions  renders  the  organism  into  an  organisation,  wherein  the  social 
formations  continue  to  differentiate  themselves  into  families,  into  various  kindred 
tribes,  social  grades,  and  international  connections. 

Every  real  growth  of  any  social  organism  is  conditioned  by  the  possibility  of  un- 
folding, and  by  the  multiplying  and  variegated  self  assertions  of  its  constituent  parts. 
Industrial  enterprises,  governmental  functions  etc.  will,  in  course  of  progressing  or- 
ganisation, branch  out  into  so  many  special  departments,  each  requiring  its  own 
book-keeping  and  consequently  the  multiplication  of  offices.  So  each  business  sets  up 
its  own  factories,  requiring  the  aptness  of  each  factor  in  its  place.  And  whenever 
superabundant  energy  obstructs  the  selfassertion  of  ambitious  persons,  and  crowds 
out  individual  aspiration,  then  colonial  nuclei  detach  themselves  from  the  nation, 
only  to  transplant  the  same  process  into  other  quarters  in  behalf  of  a  new  nation. 

This  affords  a  picture  of  historic  movement,  development  included;  it  is  for  the 
sake  of  the  latter  that  the  natural,  bee-hive-like  commotion  continues.  In  the  first 
period  of  existence  a  nation  is  embarrassed  by  natural  necessities,  and  is  scarcely 
dreaming  of  its  future  political  possibilities,  being  engaged  only  with  itself.  The 
spirit  of  the  new  settlement  works  noiselessly  and  attracts  little  outside  attention. 
The  aggregation  of  neighboring  households  seeks  mutual  concord  and  succor.  The 
incipient  nationality  disengages,  however,  from  its  embryonic  condition.  It  forms, 
under  modifying  circumstances,  its  own  vernacular. 

As  in  folklore  mysterious  structures  and  sceneries  arise  by  moonlight,  so  society 
in  its  primitive  stages  shapes  its  thought-pictures  into  fanciful  poetry,  until  lan- 
guage outgrows  this  youthful  condition  and  becomes  the  wonderful  depository  from 
which  the  wealth  of  characteristic  propensities  shines  forth,  which  originally  were 
lying  dormant  deep  in  the  soul  of  the  new-born  nation. 

As  such,  that  stage  of  society  is  to  be  imagined  (and  really  is  wherever  new 
prairie  is  "  broken  ")  which  immediately  precedes  the  appearance  of  a  nation  upon 
the  theatre  of  history.  The  "  national  spirit "  is  generating,  in  accord  with  the 
higher  or  more  degraded  cognisance  of  the  deity,  with  which  every  fact  pertaining 
to  life  is  thought  to  stand  in  connection.  Whether  God-consciousness  bears  a  higher 
or  lower  character  does  not  depend  on  the  culture  of  the  intellect,  but  culture  rests 
upon  it  and  will  stand  higher  in  proportion  to  the  purity  and  unsophisticated  feeling 
of  dependence,  responsibility,  and  relationship.  This  height  is  to  be  measured  by 
the  degree  in  which  the  originally  inborn  susceptibility  has  not  succumbed  below 
its  level  of  the  adulterated  original  and  universal  traditions.  The  national  spirit  will 
stand  high  in  proportion  to  its  retaining  the  unity  and  genuineness  of  the  God-con- 
sciousness which  manifests  itself  at  the  awakening,  and  marks  the  beginning  of  the 
self  conscious  personality. 

The  second  period  of  the  development  of  any  nation  is  indicated  by  the  display 
of  phantasy,  the  awakening  imagination,  the  creative  function  of  the  mind.  Now 
the  national  peculiarities  are  brought  out.  Natural  forces  are  personified  and  the 
dead  are  deified  ;  soon  after  attempts  are  made  to  pacify  evil  spirits,  or  to  represent 
ideal  relations  and  conceptions  ;  the  idols  are  shaped  which  populate  heaven  and 
earth,  in  consequence  of  picture-thinking  and  picture-language.  Whatever  excites 
consciousness  most  profoundly,  or  arouses  fretful  apprehension  most  seriously,  wliat- 
ever  influences  the  emotions  and  sentiments  of  a  people,  call  it  fear,  hope,  devotion, 


I.  B.  Ch.  IV.  §  24.  FROM  COLONIAL  LIFE  TO  STATEHOOD.  63 

tradition,  religious  instinct— anything  but  love;  for  of  the  relation  of  love  between  Traditions  and  the 
man  and  the  invisible,  no  language  in  that  stage  has  a  term— all  this  is  represented  Älnglisindlrstood 
by  a  confusion  of  ideals,  and  finds  its  expression  in  corresponding  idols,  images,  l  "woiatry,       ^^^^  ^" 
rites,  temples,  and  tombs.    Tradition  is  the  more  firmly  clung  to  and  kept  sacred,  the  ^'  *^^*'**'''''^- 
less  it  is  understood. 

Wherever  the  eye,  since  man  has  forgotten  to  look  to  heaven,  did  not  lose  itself 
in  earthly  things  and  beasts  ;  and  wherever,  therefore,  a  better  sense  had  made  per- 
sons ideals  and  deified  ancestors  and  heroes  of  the  past :  there  myths  of  the  gods 
spring  up.  They  keep  a  powerful  sway,  and  are  nourished  by  the  faint  echoes  of  the 
inner  life  and  by  narratives  of  a  hazy  past.  The  mountains,  the  forests  and  waters  of  „  , 

,,.,».  •  ji  'J-,  ,,.,,  •  Relative  good  in  nature 

the  distant  home  are  immortalised  by  immersing  them  in  the  resplendent  "  morning  ^^^,  «^e  ««rogate  for 

dawn  of  the  gods  ",  in  the  dim  recollections  of  an  intercourse  of  God  with  man  upon 

earth.    The  tree  and  the  spring  are  fancied  to  be  inhabited  by  ghostly  beings— the 

inner  anxieties  objectivised.    The  sphere  of  the  relative  good  is  identified  with  that 

of  the  Absolute  Good.    Nature  in  its  entirety  is  taken  for  the  deity.    The  raptures  of 

sensuality  are  taken  for  the  highest  blessings.    The  disgust  with,  and  contempt  of,  perversion  of  the 

life  are  the  next  steps  where  abandonment  to  the  most  abject  depravity  is  made  re-  lA^abflcrAvuf 

1 .     •  b  made  religious. 

ligion. 

Now  all  these  distracted,  and  finally  completely  subverted  notions  react  powerful- 
ly upon  the  formation  of  the  people.    In  the  meantime  the  unavoidable  differentia- 
tion of  national  life  proceeds,  ever  more  threatening  to  desintegrate  and  scatter  the 
people,  unless  the  idea  of  a  world-empire,  or  the  reality  of  a  powerful  dynasty— the  Reminiscence  of  the 
perverted  reminiscence  of  human  unity— keeps  that  cultural  nation  together.    Pro-  f^may apJued'hT'* 
gress  notwithstanding  its  being  thus  arrested  in  one  place,  goes  on  differentiating  *"'"«*^'"»^°'id-empires. 
and  forming  varieties,  in  another.    Here  goes  on,  however  unnoticed,  division  of  lab- 
or, self  assertion  of  functionaries,  assertion  of  might  ("survival  of  the  fittest"  some 
term  it,  wherein  we  however,  find  the  perverted  idea  of  dominion  and  personality).  nS!  adv"nws  in'^a?"' 
There  we  see  the  growth  of  population;  but  the  activity  in  every  direction,  the  irrita-  *" 
tions,  provoked  by  combating  interests,  rights,  and  liberties,  lead  to  wars.    Or  the  in- 
crease of  friction  and  transmission  of  heat  spread  inflammation  of  the  passions  Reminiscences  of  man-» 
through  the  body  politic,   shaking  it  as  with  fever  and  causing    civic  upheavals  domhi1on'<fver  nature 
and  revolutions.    Then  again  the  accumulation  of  capital,  and  of  landed  estates,  and  and'-sufviv^o^f^the^ 
the  emulative  endeavor  of  the  wealthy  to  drain  the  physical  world  and  the  personal 
of  its  proceeds;  and,  above  all,  the  great  polar  tension  balancing  all  the  intricacies  of  JSations  must  °^ 
relations  multiplying  thousandfold— all  must  serve  in  differentiating,  cultivating,  de-  serve  to  develop 
veloping  society.  ^^^^^  ^' 

The  third  period  of  national  development  generally  approaches  the  critical  point 
Take  Rome  for  example,  or  its  modern  parallel— our  own  culture.    The  wealth  of  Äti?na^dfve?o*Jment: 
emotional  life  and  moral  sentiment  recedes  in  proportion  as  the  preponderance  of  wiAoslXscribJif'"* 
cold  reason  and  practical  calculation  increases.    Conduct  is  governed  by  considera-  hs* andÄnetn* 
tions  of  utility  and  by  selfishness.    The  diplomacy  of  expediency  takes  the  place  of  p'****-"**-        s*"-  ^^' 
acting  upon  principle.    Urbanity  is  simulated  to  take  the  place  of  humaneness  and 
cordiality.    Thinking  is  misused  to  set  aside  the  necessity  of  the  objective  good  and 
the  obligations  resultant,  as  well  as  the  authority  of  the  common  good  with  its  rights 
and  duties  and  its  discipline.    Reasoning  turns  to  "the  knowledge  of  words  and 
their  uses,"  dialectics,  rhetoric,  and  sophistry  ;  and  in  the  form  of  scepticism  it         .         . 
decomposes  the  roots,  annihilates  the  fundamental  conditions  for  normal  progress  ^"*^°"*y*i"*^*'*'°*'*: 
and  common  welfare.    Patriotism  pines  away.    From  the  oneness  of  national  aspira-  thought  with- 
tions  an  abstract,  philosophical  morality  detaches  itself  like  the  bark  from  a  sick  masses^^^™  **** 
tree.    The  ascent  of  the  vital  sap  in  the  core  and  the  bast  of  the  trunk  ceases  c^^^^,^.  _ 

.  ^  ocepticism  causes 

While  the  core  turns  black  and  moldy,  the  naked  wood  assumes  a  selfsuflScient  atti-  decomposition  of 

tude,  and  under  its  smoothness  hides  the  inner  hollowness  and  dry  rot.  progress  and 

It  is  symptomatic  of  this  state  of  affairs,  that  intellectual  and  moral  thought  ^^  *^®* 
withdraws  from  the  masses  and  from  public  life,  and  an  occasional  warning  remains 
unheeded.    Summing  up  of  experiences  and  observations  for  critical  analysis  signal- 
ises the  period  preceding  the  wreckage  of  a  ship  of  state,  the  moral  bankruptcy  of  an 
overestimated  "  culture." 


64 


Recognition  of  per- 
sonality turns  into 
"Subjectivism,"  or 
egoism. 


Invention  of  an 
indifferent  deity. 


Break  between  intellect 
and  moral  sense,  and 
detachment  of  both 
from  public  life. 


Aristocratic  supercil- 
iousness aped. 
Class-hatred. 


Differentiation  has 
outrun  itself ;  the  husks 
open ;  seeds  drop ;  must 
undergo  the  process  of 
death; 


but  the  purpose  is  safe 
within  certain 
barbarians. 


Development  described 
hitherto  procured  by 
and  derived  from 
nature,  is  limited; 
Sec.  1,  3,  20,  54,  57,  101, 
219. 

the  line  drawn  where 
,the  deepest  but  empiric 
relations  to  the  "  world 
of  formal  unity"  begin. 
Sec.  6. 


which  are  supernatural 
but  bear  experimenting. 

Highest  develop- 
ment pertains  to 
religious  life,  is 
a  personal 
matter. 


Its  effects  can  only  in  a 
modified  sense,  i.  e.  as  to 
their  results,  become  a 
common  good. 


It  cannot  be  expected 
from  historic  advance: 


FOR  STILL  HIGHER  DEVELOPMENT.  1.  B.  CH.  IV.  §  24. 

Differentiation,  as  in  the  case  of  the  deeper  cell-cleavage  preceding  fissuration,  be- 
gins development.  But  it  becomes  disintegration,  whenever  it  continues  to  split  up 
the  activity  of  the  developed  organisation  to  the  point  of  dissolving  membership.  The 
crisis  sets  in  when  the  mutual  recognition  of  personality  changes  into  subjectivism  or 
egoism.  "  Our  age  declines,"  the  contemporaries  then  say.  The  break  between  the 
intellect  and  the  moral  sense,  and  the  detachment  of  both  from  public  life,  ends  in  a 
general  collapse. 

A  remote  and  transcendental,  an  indefinite  and  indifferent  deity,  which  nobody 
needs  to  revere  and  nobody  can  love  (because  we  can  only  love  a  personality),  unites 
minds  no  better,  not  even  as  well  as  the  nearer  relationship  of  being  fellow-citi- 
zens could  do.  Finally  nothing  binds  people  together  but  egoism  and  class  hatred. 
Subjectivism,  the  caricature  of  the  grand  cognition  of  personality,  which  was  the 
best  boon  that  posterity  derived  from  the  fights  and  thoughts  of  the  dark  ages— be- 
comes the  prevailing  principle,  the  basis  of  scepticism ;  subjectivism  emancipates 
itself,  subject  only  to  the  "mysteries"  of  orders  and  to  scantily  covered  passions.  It 
is  that  principle  which  estranges  the  individual  from  philanthropy  ;  which,  at  the 
expense  of  all  that  is  holy,  is  declared  fashionable  and  deemed  aristocratic  ;  it  ren- 
ders "society  "  reserved,  dignified  and  stiff— until  it  dies.  Differentiation  has  outrun 
itself.  Hence  the  seeds  of  such  a  culture,  too,  severed  from  a  personal  God  and 
falling  from  the  husks  of  a  deistical  world-theory,  have  to  undergo  the  process  of 
death. 

Remember,  reference  was  made  to  Rome  as  the  example. 

Nevertheless,  the  purpose  was  as  safe  as  it  ever  will  be.  For  at  the  period  of 
Rome's  decline,  within  a  people  which  seemed  dead  material,  there  lay  the  promise  of 
higher  advance.  Rome— "Mistress  of  the  World"— thus  furnishes  an  object  lesson  of 
the  semicircle  of  development  (§  23)  diverging  with  the  basal  line  of  its  diameter  at 
its  descending  end,  at  the  moment  of  her  death. 

The  purpose  lay  dormant,  but  safe— as  we  shall  see— with  certain  "  barbarians." 

We  have  arrived  at  a  point  of  development,  where  it  is  very  sensitive  to  anything 
sharp.    We  shall  return  to  it  with  something  that  heals. 

So  far  we  have  treated  of  development  as  procured  by,  and  derived  from,  nature. 
This  evolution  as  applied  to  national  life  fortunately  has  its  limits;  not  all  that  is  to 
be  developed  is  going  that  way.  The  line  is  drawn,  above  which  the  laws  of  "inheri- 
tance" and  of  "accomodation"  lose  their  efficiency.  The  genius  of  art  is  not  heritable, 
much  less  religiousness.  All  which  pertains  to  the  world  of  formal  unity,  perpetuity 
and  freedom,  is  above  natural  necessity.  And  if  it  were  above  reason,  it  is  only  be- 
cause it  was  not  intended  to  be  visible  from  a  point  below  reason. 

The  deepest,  most  vivid  and  empiric  relations  of  each  single  individual  to  the 
spiritual  and  supernatural  world  can  develop  in  no  other  but  personal  mode— but  as 
such  pergonal  matter  they  can  bear  experimenting. 

These  experiences  can  not  be  put  on  by  training,  nor  handed  down  by  tradition; 
they  can  not  be  indoctrinated  nor  acquired  by  culture— least  of  all  by  onesided  culti- 
vation. In  this  sphere  we  make  experiences  each  one  for  himself  alone.  I  must  fol- 
low the  dictates  of  my  own  conscience.  The  conscience  of  another  has  no  claim  upon 
mine.  This  was  the  point  which  Kant  intended  to  demonstrate ;  if  he  failed  it  was  not 
the  fault  of  his  theme.  We  know  that  societies  have  no  conscience;  and  now  we  add 
that  not  even  the  Church  can  vicariously  make  these  experiences  for  its  members. 
This  kind  of  empirics  can  only  in  a  modified  sense,  that  is,  as  to  their  effects,  become 
a  common  good— inasmuch  namely,  as  the  results  of  the  inner  life  of  the  "religionist" 
may' affect  the  inner  life  of  others  by  way  of  a  certain  rapport,  which,  tho  never  with- 
out strict  adherence  to  the  principle  of  personality  undefiled,  unites  the  spiritual 
world. 

In  this  senöe  civilisation  possesses  a  treasure  which  is  inheritable  from  genera- 
tion to  generation  and  transferable  from  nation  to  nation.  Nevertheless  it  is  only 
the  sum  total  of  theoretical  empiricism  concerning  spiritual  matters,  and  is,  after  all, 
limited  to  mere  exhibitory  technicalities.  Whatever  immortal  elements  are  parts  of 
this  treasure  can  not  be  verified  as  issuing  from  natural  development.  Hence  the  de- 
velopment of  the  mind  in  its  full  sense  and  in  every  direction  is  not  to  be  expected 


I.  B.  CH.  V.  §  25.  GENESIS  OF  THE  COGNITION  OF  THE  PLAN.  65 

from  liistory.     The  so-called  religious  progress  is  simply  the  perpetuity  of  fixed  s„^>„ed  religio«,  pro- 
methods  to  facilitate  personal  development.    Whatever  natural  elements  are  coijtain-  perpetui*t"of Vnled 
ed  therein,— as  referred  to  in  the  description  of  its  progress  through  times  and  na-  deveiopme^rapprLh- 
tions  and  from  the  globigerinse  upward  to  the  issues  of  psychico-moral  life  inclusive  '''^  p^fection. 
—constitutes  but  the  natural  basis  for  just  so  much  of  development  as  is  sufficient  to 
unite  mankind,  because  of  its  psychical  grandeur,  into  a  natural  unity,  a  genus. 

But  the  development  of  the  mind  as  a  personality  does  not  stop  here.    And  from  ah  preceding  deveiop- 
this  onward  only  that  effect  of  the  naturally  developed  basis  upon  the  inner,  that  is»  substratum.'  "*"* 
the  personal,  or  psychico-pneumatic  life  comes  under  consideration,  which  reacts 
against  the  spiritual  influences.    In  the  course  of  further  development  we  have  to 
pay  attention  simply  to  the  interactions  Qf  both,  the  natural  basis  and  the  spiritual 
influences,  and  to  investigate  the  residuum  and  the  results  of  this  interaction  and  re-  observawe  oniy  to  such 
action.  Henceforth  the  reaction  of  physico-historical  against  purely  personal  develop-  expenLTof'thosT^ 
ment  chiefly  demands  our  observation.    One  more  notice  is  to  be  given,  however,  be-  "'*«'^'«'*'^«"^**'*""- 
fore  we  go  to  this  work,  viz :  that  this  interaction  and  reaction  is  observable  only  to 
such  persons  as  for  themselves  have  some  personal  experience  thereof. 

CH.  V.    PLAN  OF  HISTORY. 

§  25.  The  surview  of  the  coefficients  of  history  in  the  first  division  led  to  the 
conclusion  that  man  is  the  type  and  theme  of  history.    In  order  to  reach  the  conclu-  , 

sion  of  the  second,  which  treats  of  the  operative  mode,  it  remains  to  discover  the  plan 
of  history.    Is  there  such  a  thing  as  a  preconceived  destiny,  a  plan  determining  the 
movement  of  history?    For  the  present,  and  for  the  sake  of  closer  connection  with 
the  foregoing,  let  us  take  up  the  question  stated  in  §  17,  ff.:    Is  there  reason  in  his-  connective  with  see.  n» 
tory? 

Looking  again  at  the  monotonous  heap  of  loose  sand  upon  the  seashore  we  see 
no  reason  in  it.  The  first  impression  we  receive  is  one  of  nonsense,  of  the  unintelli- 
gible. Why?  Because  there  appears  to  be  no  order,  no  ruling  principle  ;  we  see  no 
fitness  of  the  parts  for  a  definite  purpose  ;  the  thing  has  no  value,  so  that  we  miss 
even  the  excuse  for  its  preservation  ;  the  mere  thought  of  it  is  annoying.  We  have 
the  involuntary  feeling  that  every  idea  of  consistency  is  lacking,  or  rather,  we  for- 
get even  that  disorder  reigns.  The  sight  of  it  becomes  utterly  indifferent  to  us,  be- 
cause it  reveals  no  thought,  nor  does  it  suggest  one  within  us.  We  miss  all  reason  in 
or  for  the  sand-heap.  Do  we?  Then  perhaps  the  thoughtlessness  is  on  our  side.  For 
we  must  remember  that  the  particular  cannot  be  understood  unless  considered  in  its 
relation  to  the  general.  We  can  think  no  parts  without  the  "universals."  If  thought 
shall  be  educed,  we  at  once  ask:  why?  If  there  is  any  sense  to  be  found  in  the  parts,  it 
must  be  attributed  to  them  from  without.  Things  mechanically  incite  reason  to 
make  a  comparison,  that  is,  to  imagine  the  relationship.  In  the  things  themselves 
we  must  not  expect  to  find  a  plan  ;  we  would  not  even  be  able  to  see  things  per  se,  ^j^^  ^^^^^  j^  ^.g^^^,^ 
unless  we  observe  their  relations.  The  concept  "  plan  "  we  solely  gain  through  the  pu^po^^Ä kÄ/evinl 
method  in  which  the  laws  of  logic,  operate  within  us.  We  recognise  a  purpose,  and 
this  cognition  is  based  upon  a  conclusion.  This  conclusion  is  derived  from  repeated 
events,  from  events  subsequent  to  incidents  of  similar  import,  which  we  have  noticed 
before  and  now  compare.  The  conclusion  is  the  synthetical  apperception  of  various 
generalisations,  which  are  consistent  among  each  other,  and  all  of  which  can  be  ac- 
counted for  by  reason.  Hence  the  prerequisites  for  forming  a  conclusion  can  not  be 
gotten  out  of  an  analysis  of  things  taken  by  themselves.  In  the  aggregations  of 
sand  particles  there  is  no  suggestion  for  our  mind  which  would  awaken  the  idea  of  a 
purpose,  or,  as  we  now  say,  of  a  plan. 

We  may  analyse  things  as  much  as  we  please,  as  infinitesimal  as  possible,  a  rea-  ^^^^  <  matters"  us,  is 
son  for  them  we  do  not  find  in  themselves.    We  come  to  a  judgment  about  them  only  ^enToÄugU'by**' 
by  observing  their  interrelations.    Remember  the  machine  and  its  parts.    In  equal  com|ari^on'"iVto 
manner  the  thought  of  purpose  immediately  strikes  us,  when  we  "  take  in  "  a  pano-  i^f Jo^sS^!' 
rama  of  a  city,  a  theatre,  or  a  church. 

In  any  structure  we  see  a  plan  realised.  Order  and  system  prevail  about  the 
whole.  Thoughtfulness,  yea  forethought  is  expressed  in  every  detail.  By  utilising 
minds  and  materials,  and  by  preparing  and  arranging  either  of  them,  according  to 


66i 


DESIGN  IN  NATURE  BECOMES  DESTINY  IN  HISTORY.         I.  B.  Ch.  V.  §  55. 


Plan  of  move- 
ments is  not  to 
be  discovered  by 
any  analysis  of 
the  coefficients, 
but  by  way  of 
logic,  that  is,  by 
establishing  their 
relations.      §22,24. 

Illustration : 
The  architect  and  his 
plan  in  relation  to  the 
building,  and  to  the 
aspect  of  the  beholder. 

In  the  plant 
motives  and  plan 
are  inherent. 


In  history  the 

plan  but  partly  inherent. 


I.  Part  of  the 

Elan  which  is  in 
istory. 


First  proviso: 
One  original  typical 
man  carries  within  him 
the  type  and  design  of 
history  which  is  but 
man  linfolded. 

His  endowments  con- 
stitute the  material  of 
history;  since  the 
unfolding  of  his  poten- 
tialities causes  the 
outgrowth  of  relations 
and  opportunities. 
Sec.  10,   12,    16,   38,   117, 
119,    168,    176,    185,    197, 
201,   205,    232. 


History  is  at  man's 
disposal,  and  does  not 
consist  of  mere 
possibilities. 


Man  shaping  his  own 
felicities  and  fatalities; 
is  the  creator  of  history. 


Second  proviso : 
That  possibilities  of 
abnormal  development 
are  not  taken  in  consid- 
eration. 


II.  Part  of  the 
plan  has  objec- 
tive existence  in 
"  thought," 


their  adaptness,  a  specific  idea  is  carried  out.  We  imagine  motion,  i.  e.  differentia- 
tion, etc.,  to  have  taken  place  in  the  execution  of  the  plan,  whereby  thought  found  its 
articulate  expression.  In  our  contemplative  absorption  we  even  became  surprised, 
perhaps,  at  finding  our  own  thought  engaged  in  criticising  and  judging,  that  is,  in 
comparing  the  apparent  plan  of  the  builder  with  our  own  idea  of  practicability,  with 
what  the  plan  ought  to  have  been.  Every  part  stands  for  reason,  hence  the  reason  of 
the  architect  calls  forth  our  own.  His  design  is  made  identical  with  his  person ;  he 
is  even  made  responsible,  not  only  for  the  appropriateness,  but  also  for  the  execution 
of  the  plans  and  specifications. 

The  plan  underlying  the  construction  of  a  plant  is  innate  in  the  plant ;  all  its 

motives  are  inherited. 

♦ 

But  the  design  of  the  cathedral  of  Cologne  stands  in  an  external  relation  to  it. 

The  plan  which  outlines  the  upbuilding  of  history  is  partly  inherent  in  its  de- 
velopment; but  it,  at  the  same  time,  controls  the  historic  movement  to  a  considerable 
extent  from  the  outside,  that  is  in  so  far,  as  the  plan  remains  objective. 

With  regard  to  the  objective  guidance  of  the  historic  development,  the  thought 
which  animates  the  latter,  also  distributes  its  formative  principle  among  the  great 
nations  of  culture.  And  among  them,  on  the  other  hand,  that  part  of  the  plan  be- 
comes evident,  which  points  out  the  course  and  task  of  history  from  its  own  natural 
conditions.  Just  as  the  plan  is  identical  with  the  plant,  that  is,  with  the  matter  of 
which  it  consists  and  which  at  bottom  is  substantiated  purpose,  or  life,  its  soul 
—so  is  the  plan  of  historic  development  inherent  in  history,  making  it  selfdeveloping 
in  accordance  with  the  nature  of  its  material. 

And  the  material  of  history  is  man.  In  his  nature  he  carries  the  type  of  history. 
Now,  if  there  is  one  original,  typical  man— which  in  the  meanwhile  we  take  for 
granted,  as  we  took  for  granted  one  first  amoeba- then  he  will  contain  within  him 
the  plan  of  all  the  formations  into  which  human  affairs  may  shape  themselves,  since 
he  represents  the  common  root  of  the  entire,  wide-branching  genus.  History  is 
but  man  unfolded.  Hence  the  project  must  be  delineated  in  him.  Then  the 
structure  of  history  is  but  the  explanatory  unfolding  of  that  with  which  his  inner 
life  is  endowed.  Thus  history  is  to  be  considered  as  the  unfolding  of  all  human  po- 
tentialities and  all  the  opportunities  growing  out  of  their  realisations:  as  the  unfold- 
ing, furthermore,  of  all  the  relations  existing  among  these  potentialities  themselves, 
and  between  them  and  the  opportunities  growing  out  of  these  relations  to  the  world 
without. 

History  is  the  actualisation  of  that  for  which  man  is  destined;  and  this  is  deeply 
implanted  into  his  entire  being  and  disposition.  His  development  will  prescribe  the 
formation  of  history.  It  will  be  what  he  makes  of  it,  for  it  is  at  his  disposal.  He 
causes  his  own  felicity  and  fatalities.  History  merely  consists  of  this  expansion  of 
all  the  copiousness  of  possibilities  lying  within  him  in  form  of  his  own  incipient  po- 
tencies. Hence  the  unfolding  of  his  capabilities  does  not  only  consist  in  indefinite 
possibilities  and  notions,  but  will  enter  into  relations,  will  realise  itself,  will  take 
place,  will  become  facts.  It  will  form  the  synthesis  of  pure  formal  being  and  forma- 
tive existence.  In  other  words:  Man  comprises  all  the  material  which— w^ith  refer- 
ence to  the  development  of  the  historic  process  and  its  completion— is  formative  prin- 
ciple and  plan  at  the  same  time.  That  is,  man  is  not  only  the  type  and  theme,  but 
even  the  creator  of  history. 

All  this  is  correct,  provided  there  is  one  historical,  typical,  original  man. 

At  this  instant  we  as  yet  desist  from  considering  the  possibility  of  abnormal 
movements,  and  from  considering  the  fact  of  man's  activity  being  restricted  in  many 
ways.  Disregarding  all  these  circumstances  as  most  all  philosophers  have  done,  we 
might  very  well  perceive  in  this  historic  development  the  vision  of  an  ideal  unfolding 
according  to  the  plan  which  originally  was  designed  in  his  own  person.  But  we  dare 
not  lose  sight  of  these  circumstances  because  others  have  done  it. 

Hence  we  are  referred  to  that  part  of  the  plan  which,  on  the  other  hand,  is  not 
encompassed  by  man  alone,  but  which  in  the  "thought"  has  also  objective  existence 
and  stands  outside  of  man  and  history,  ever  contriving  to  procure  his  welfare. 


I.  B.  CH.  V.  §  25.         THE  WORLD'S  CONCERT  AND  PROVIDENCE.  67 

The  design  and  plan,  i.  e.  as  far  as  it  is  imparted  and  has  entered  into  the  combi- 
nation of  the  human  constitution,  does  not  make  history  alone.   If  this  were  the  case»  pos«!  i*'«.  commiF^ll. 
the  historic  development  would  be  in  jeopardy.    It  would  be  exposed  to  irreparable  Go^--be  not"^'^™* 
malformations  and  monstrosities.    Misunderstandings,  as  those  of  the  analogies  be- 
tween the  natural  and  the  spiritual,  misapplied  liberty,  for  instance,  without  a 
regulating,  rescuing  control  of  fore-thought,  upholding  the  original  design,  would 
bring  the  best  intentions  of  pure  thought  to  naught.    Development  would  be  revert- 
ed to  the  worst  entanglement.    There  could  be  found  no  standard  by  which  to  adjust  The  symphony  com- 
development  worthy  of,  and  in  harmony  with,  personal  life.    The  ideal,  original  plan  -con'lert-^woiTÄ^ 
would  be  marred  beyond  recognition.    The  true  theme  of  the  great  symphony,  com-  re3ng  Sro^Äe 
posed  for  the  worlds  "concert",  would  be  drowned  in  the  noisy  turmoil  and  by  the  ^"'^^''''"eht. 
boisterous  conduct  of  such  disposers  of  history  as  were  heard  of  at  the  "fin  de  siecle" 
a  hundred  years  ago— and  by  the  clashing  of  their  plans. 

We  close  our  several  lines  of  argument  with  this  statement :   as  the  sum  and 
substance  of  our  observations  we  find  that  the  plan  controlling  the  development  of  without  the  mie  of 
history  lies  partly  in  it  as  the  motive  potency,  and  partly  outside  of  it  in  an  overrul-  "Providence." 
ing  Providence. 

We  have  not  hesitated  to  hint  at  the  place  where  the  plan  may  be  looked  into, 
which  stands  aloof,  and  apart  from,  earthly  commotion;  how  it  is  to  be  perceived  and  The  place  where  the 
to  be  put  to  the  test.    Whether  it  can  be  handled  as  the  necessary  rule  and  meas-  ^nTapart^rom^eaSiy 
ure,  can  be  demonstrated  by  its  effects.    A  closer  inspection  we  reserve  for  the  proper  «ommotion. 
occasion.    It  must  suffice  that  we  have  shown,  why  this  plan  is  a  postulate  of  reason, 
and  that  its  correctness  must  be  demonstrable.    Unless  we  are  agreed  in  this,  we 
must  despair  of  ever  becoming  able  to  give  reason  the  satisfaction,  that  man  can  ac- 
count for  matters  and  facts.    Despite  such  a  negative  result,  the  reason  within  us  ^^^ 
would  insist  upon  its  claim  for  an  answer  to  its  postulate.    This  postulate  of  reason  reason,  its  correctness 

,  must  therefore  be 

can  not  point  us  all  into  an  empty  void  which  is  unthinkable— since  matters  and  facts  demonstrable. 
press  upon  us  with  incitements  to  think,  and  since  reason  itself  continues]  to  chal- 
lenge reasons. 


BOOK    SECOND. 


Vhi 


^hilosophi/    of   J^istory. 


Div.  A.— Substructure.    First  Circle  of  Nations. 

"    B.— Second  Circle  of  Nations  :  Aryans. 

"    C— Third  Circle  of  Nations  :  Mediterranean  Basin. 

"    D.— The  Divide  of  the  Times. 

"    E.— Third  Circle  of  Nations  :  Post-Augustean  Period. 

"    F.— Second  Circle  of  Nations:  Indo-German  Medi/Eval  Age. 

"    G.— First  and  Most  Peripheral  Circle  of  Nations  :  Age  of 
Missions. 


SYLLABUS. 

Having  become  acquainted  somewhat  with  histories,  the  fundamental  principles  of  our  phi- 
losophy we  are  prepared  to  consider  the  construction  of  history  as  exhibiting  these  principles. 

The  first  of  the  seven  divisions,  into  which  the  data  of  the  second  book  arrange  themselves 
will  be  given  to  a  survey  of  those  regions  in  which,  according  to  the  ethnos^raphic  material  found 
there,  history  had  its  beginnings. 

As  soon  as  the  race- enters  upon  its  stage  of  action,  the  first  indications  of  a  universal  polarity, 
agitating  it,  become  noticeable  and  are  to  be  scrutinised.  This  will  at  once  put  us  in  the  position 
from  which  we  may  view  the  first  of  our  three  concentric  circles  of  nations. 

We  look  upon  the  scenery  where  history  performed  her  first  great  feats  with  least  ostentation. 
Here  the  broad  ground-works  of  future  complications  come  in  sight ;  for  out  of  the  obscurity  of  pre- 
historic eons  in  which  time  and  eternity  seem  to  be  mixed  up  in  the  dense  vapors  of  a  Tohu  Vabohu 
there  protrudes,  distinct  enough,  the  fundamental  masonry  of  the  structure.  Its  Cyclopean  massive- 
ness  is  to  a  great  extent  impenetrable  to  scientific  research.  Yet  this  much  becomes  apparent,  that 
the  race  then  already  was  subject  to  the  law  of  polarity.  The  systematic  workings  of  this  law  are 
intimated  by  the  curves  and  courses  of  the  substructure.  The  same  strained  condition,  we  may  say 
"  polar  tension  ",  is  observable  which  henceforth  always  exists  and  produces  the  contrasts  between 
the  Oriental  and  Occidental  nations. 

Under  "polar  tension"  that  historic  strain  may  be  denoted,  which  is  caused  by  such  contrasts  of  matter 
and  mind  previously  referred  to,  or  by  such  characteristic  opposites  as  the  one  here  pointed  out. 

(1.)  Taking  our  position  upon  the  great  divide  which  the  Asiatics  up  to  date  call  "  the  Roof  of 
the  World  ",  we  distinguish  between  Turano-Mongolo-Malayan  nations  of  the  East,  and  the  Ugro- 
Tatarians  of  the  West.  The  right  wing  consists  of  the  aborigines  of  China,  Tibet,  and  the  coasts  of 
the  Pacific,  America  included.  The  left  reaches  across  Siberia,  out  to  the  Finns  and  Lapps  of  Eu- 
rope. Their  common  center  is  the  high  plateau  of  Central  Asia.  Africa  is  irrelevant  as  yet  to  his- 
tory, only  serving  as  a  dumping-ground,  as  it  were,  for  fragments  of  different  peoples,  the  scattered 
elements  of  which  occasionally  react  across  the  northern  and  eastern  borders. 

This  outlines  the  widest  compass  of  ethnological  propaedeutics. 

The  eastern  part  of  the  first  great  circle  of  our  race  leads  but  a  vegetating  existence,  so  to  say; 
its  natural  temperament  represents  feminine  passiveness,  whilst  in  the  western  part  virile  charac- 
teristics of  personal  and  energetic  aggressiveness  prevail.  All  these  nations  lead  a  nature-bound 
life,  bearing  the  impress  of  their  physical  environments  more  marked  than  the  few  features  of 
spiritual  qualifications. 

The  use  of  the  word  "  nature-bound"  may  be  permissive  for  conditions  of  human  life,  where,  through 
neglect  of  cultivating  the  mind,  man  allowed  himself  to  remain  under  the  bondage  of  natural  necessity,  in- 
stead of  entering  upon  his  career  of  spiritual  development,  so  that  this  side  of  personal  life  became  arrested. 

(2.)  An  equal  ethno-psychical  contrast  determines  also  the  next  smaller  circle.  The  people 
constituting  it  progressively  enter  upon  a  most  promising  career.  This  second  circle  comprises  the 
Indo-Germanic  people— the  Aryans.  With  them  again  we  have  a  right  and  a  left  wing,  which  are 
each  subdivided  into  northern  and  southern  counterparts.  To  the  right  wing  belong  the  inhabitants 
of  Iran,  and  those  of  the  Indus  and  Ganges  regions  ;  to  the  left  the  Germanic  nations  and  those  of 
Graeco-Roman  culture.  In  the  reciprocal  irritation,  reaction,  and  augmentation  of  energies,  the 
strain  of  opposition,  i,  e.  the  ethnical  polarity,  here  again  produces  those  distinct  features  of  history, 
which  we  associate  with  the  presentations  of  Oriental  and  Occidental  life. 

(3.)  Then  follows  the  third  and  innermost  of  the  concentric  circles  under  Roman  dominion 
It  represents  a  basin  m  which  all  the  ethnical  elements  of  the  ancient  times  flow  together,  and 
where  the  ever  agitating  polar  forces  are  discharged  into  the  bulk,  so  as  to  prepare  a  new  order  of 
human  affairs. 


72  SYLLABUS.  TT. 

(4.)  The  fourth  division  will  then  demonstrate  that  the  course  of  events  arrived  at  the  turn- 
ing-point of  history.  The  opposing  principles  now  cross,  pervade,  penetrate,  and  neutralise  each 
other.  We  find  ourselves  in  the  midst  of  contrasts— upon  the  historic  height  of  many  disclosures 
where  the  hidden  theme  assumes  plastic  form.  The  key  is  given  which  opens  the  reality  of  things 
anticipated.  Light  is  thrown  upon  the  retrospect  and  upon  the  prospect  of  the  ultimate  issues. 
After  looking  up  from  physical  life  and  looking  back  from  personal  life  fully  realised,  reviewing  the 
postulates  and  forebodings  of  the  mind  in  all  directions,  and  seeing  the  union  of  spirit  and  matter 
completed,  we  will  become  convinced  that  the  solution  of  all  problems  is  found,  and  that  our  axioms 
are  aflärmed. 

A  new  factor  now  enters  into  the  life  of  mankind.  It  is  the  pneumatic  principle  which  hence- 
forth works  through  history,  aiming  at  the  realisation  of  human  destiny.  This  new  efficient  is  im- 
parted from  the  higher  sphere.  It  had  been  typified  by  surprising  phenomena  at  every  new  stage  of 
development,  even  in  thö  evolution  of  the  natural  world.  In  ascending  lines  and  cycles  this  princi- 
ple of  personality  and  perpetuity  affects  the  human  masses  one  by  one,  attracting,  influencing, 
uniting  them  and  all  their  further  relations. 

(5.)  In  the  fifth  division  the  gradual  permeation  of  humanity  with  the  new  power,  proceed- 
ing from  the  center,  begins  to  work  toward  the  periphery  of  the  three  concentric  circles.  This 
gradual  expansion  corresponds  in  reverse  order  to  the  former  narrowing  down  of  the  cultural  pro- 
gress. This  newly  engrafted  energy,  this  life  proper,  had  appeared  concentrated  and  intensified  in 
the  One  in  whom  the  realm  of  unity  and  perpetuity  centers.  From  His  immediate  surroundings  a 
unique  influence  now  expands  over  the  entire  mass  mixed  together  in  the  Roman  basin. 

(6.)  The  sixth  division  again  reviews  the  second  of  our  concentric  circles  as  brought  under  the 
transforming  activity  of  the  new  leaven.  Again  we  meet  those  kindred  people  who  in  the  remote 
past  already  sustained  that  polar  tension  between  the  oriental  and  the  occidental  modes  of  thought. 
The  leaven  now  works  throughout  the  whole  lump,  until  every  branch  of  the  Indo-Germanic  race  is 
enlisted  in  the  movement  and  therein  recognises  its  special  task  and  destiny.  By  virtue  of  the  new 
life  the  cultivation,  not  only  of  the  natural  forms  of  existence,  but  also  of  the  spiritual  side  of  life, 
in  the  special  sense,  aspires  to  higher  attainments.  Man  becomes  conscious  of  the  full  value  of  a 
person  and  begins  to  prepare  himself  and  nature  for  a  still  higher  form  of  existence. 

(7.)  With  personality  enfranchised,  the  task  of  humanity  is  fully  understood.  Man  as  co- 
worker with  God  spreads  the  new  life  to  the  countries  of  the  largest  circle  and  penetrates  the  broad, 
massive  substratum  of  arrested  human  life.  This,  the  seventh  division  will  show  as  the  work  to  be 
executed  in  the  present  age.  The  thought  realised  upon  yonder  highland  in  that  year,  which  is  the 
pivot-point  of  the  times,  in  deep  condescension,  in  the  form  of  history  condensed,— this  thought  now 
manifests  the  most  expansive  power;  it  becomes  world-embracing,  world-transforming. 

Human  life  in  its  most  sacred  relations  is  now  unfolding,  whilst  the  sharp  contrasts  of  dark 
shadows  also  extend.  The  organisation  of  the  realm  of  consistent  unity,  harmonious  continuity,  and 
spiritual  personality  is  initiated.  The  goal  before  us  is  the  consummation  of  the  Good,  the  True,  and 
the  Beautiful  in  the  final  process  of  transfiguration  to  perfection  and  glory.  This  will  be  the  theme 
of  the  closing  part. 

The  original  intent  to  elevate  and  deliver  confined  life  penetrates  into  the  same  life  universal, 
from  which  we  saw  history  emerge  in  the  first  division.  When  the  end  aproaches  the  purpose  again 
surpasses  the  sphere  of  empirical  investigation:  it  transcends  scientific  research.  As  it  was  at  the 
beginnings  of  history  that  prophetic  vision  alone  could  see  the  dim,  prehistoric  past  of  which  the 
mind  had  retained  only  faint  recollections,— so  the  ideas  about  the  future,  floating  in  the  mind,  as 
yet  scarcely  more  than  intuitive  presentiments  and  anticipations,  can  only  be  conjectured  from 
analogies  in  nature  and  history.  For,  tho  this  mysterious  future  transcends  our  present  understanding, 
yet  it  does  not  entirely  lie  beyond  our  ideal  apprehension.  In  the  seventh  division  we  merely  present 
the  fact  that  these  ideas  of  origin  and  destiny  are  ever  present  in  human  life,  as  proofs  of  the  fact 
that  history  actually  ever  moves  at  the  threshold  of  that  grand  consummation  of  all  purposes, which  is 
indicated  by  all  analytic  and  synthetic  thought.  The  new  energy  of  the  spiritual  stimulus,  trans- 
mitted to,  and  taken  up  by,  the  masses  of  people  in  the  widest  circle  pushes  onward  until  it  encom- 
passes the  periphery  in  an  unbroken  line.  This  activity  seizing  nature-bound  people  and  delivering 
them  from  the  long  confinement  of  arrested  life  makes  it  evident,  that  they  now  joyfully  partake 
thereof;  this  activity,  which  thus  signalises  the  approaching  completion  of  the  purpose  of  history:— 
is  nothing  but  the  extension  and  multiplication  of  that  solvent  power  of  affinity  which  rests  in  the 
centre. 


H.  SYLLABUS.  73 

In  a  brief  resume  let  ns  review  this  development  with  reference  to  the  Histories  in  Book  First. 
Let  us  take  a  glance  over  the  plan  of  our  arrangement  which  we  judge  to  be  clearly  indicated  by  the 
data  actually  at  hand. 

Three  orders  of  self-culture  in  a  concentric  progress  of  preparation  rotate  around  [the  center. 

The  most  distant  circle  and  most  obscure  culture  extends  farthest  into  the  dim  horizon.    The  uni- 

ary  and  unique  center,  the  great  point  of  gravity,  comes  to  view  as  the  apex  of  the  broad  substruct- 

tures,  and  as  the  synthetical  oneness  of  all  preceding  centripetal  movements.    This  unit  proves  itself 

to  be  the  climax  of  true  life  intensified,  and  as  the  purpose  in  the  concrete. 

He  is  the  life  of  humanity  personified,  the  project  of  human  destiny  substantiated,  consecrat. 
ing  himself  to  the  satisfactory  solution  of  all  truly  human  problems.  He  is  fully  able  to  ameliorate 
all  earthly  conditions,  consequently  qualified  to  impart  the  new  principle,  i.  e.  the  thought  and  will 
from  above.  This  perfect  personal  life  thus  becomes  the  well-spring  of  the  new  issue.  It  seizes  the 
narrow,  nearest  circle  in  its  preparatory  state  of  culture,  in  order  to  lead  from  thence  upward. 
Gradually  spreading,  the  forces  augment  while  permeating  and  influencing  the  second  circle.  Per- 
sonality  develops  in  due  relation  to  its  arche-type,  until  the  idea  of  a  new,  and  universal  humanity 
prevails. 

The  members  of  this  truly  human  family  in  concurrence  and  cooperation  with  the  central 
unit  of  the  world  of  "formal  unity"  assume  the  work  of  freeing  those  nature-bound  remainders  of 
humanity  from  their  arrested  state  of  life,  which  constitute  the  largest,  heaviest,  most  distant  and 
dead-like  orbit.  All  along  the  lines  of  advance  the  new  principle  becomes  acknowledged  as  the 
radiant  center;  as  the  One  substantialised  in  a  generic  new  race;  as  the  One  who  always  had  been 
the  hidden  proto-type  and  is  now  the  sum  and  substance  of  all  truth  and  all  life,  i.  e.  of  reality 
itself. 

The  following  exposition  must  justify  our  arrangement  of  the  historic  contents.  It  must  ap- 
pear, whether  the  disposition  of  the  material  is  made  to  order  for  the  sake  of  some  invented  plan  and 
then  artificially  imputed  to  history;  or  whether  history  actually  moved  in  these  concentric,  upward 
and  downward  cycles,  in  which  each  human  being  is  carried  along,  tho  revolving  upon  its  own  axis 
and  in  its  own  course.  It  must  become  evident,  whether  history  is  here  constructed  to  suit  an  er- 
ratic, private  orbit,  or  whether  history  itself  brought  along  the  reason,  the  material  and  the  method. 

The  plan  is  so  lucid,  that  it  may  easily  be  shown,  whether  such  interpretation  of  history's 
revelations  is  forced  or  fanciful ;  or  which  of  the  data,  adduced  as  empirical  testimony,  witnessing 
the  truth,  would  have  to  be  challenged,  or  be  thrown  out  as  an  interpolation. 


A.  FIRST  DIVISION,— SUBSTRUCTURE  OF  HISTORY. 

FIRST  CIRCLE:  TURANO-MONGOLO-MALAYAN  NATIONS. 

May  the  comparison  of  history  to  a  theatre,  where  the  drama  of  the  world  is  giv- 
en and  repeated,  hold  good  once  more.  First  in  order,  then,  will  be  an  inspection  of 
the  foundations  of  the  building  itself.  After  this  the  construction  of  the  stage  in  its 
natural  sequence  will  be  described.  The  wide  firmament  will  form  the  back-ground, 
our  globe  the  solid  play-ground.  Here  the  natural  conditions  will  be  outlined.  Then 
humanity  in  general,  as  a  unit,  is  to  be  comprehended.  The  great  enigma  of  history^ 
the  bad,  must  not  be  overlooked.  The  diversity  of  the  human  race  is  to  be  rendered 
intelligible.  This  multiplicity  of  nations  will  at  the  same  time  bring  us  face  to  face  Poiar  tension,  sec.  22. 
with  the  law  of  polarity.  The  "polar  tension"  displays  its  power  in  the  array  and 
contrast  of  those  peculiarities,  by  which  fractional  parts  of  the  race  either  regulate 
or  outbalance  each  other,  conditioning  thereby  in  a  great  measure  all  future  activity, 
and  directing  the  march  of  progress. 

Upon  the  basis  here  indicated  we  must  pursue  the  investigation  to  the  point 
where  the  broad  stratum  of  the  Turano-Mongolian  peoples  assumes  a  definite  shape. 
We  have  to  take  better  notice  of  all  this,  than  has  been  done  heretofore,  because  the  j^ss°  of*  peoples  not 
substratum  in  its  wide  range  bears  strong  relations  at  every  point  to  the  historic  by  sSlTheretofSe! 
structure  built  upon  it. 


n 


Man  related  to  the  astral 
world  as  well  as  to  this 
terrestrial. 


Man  compared  to  the 
pyramid.       Sec.  185,204. 


Man  as  the  center  and 
to  some  extent  the  issue 
of  the  universe. 


Man's  position  in,  and 
relation  to,  two  worlds. 


Walter  Scott. 


Facts  in  debating  the 
interrelations  between 
the  mind,  human 
history,  and  the 
firmament. 


Consideration  of  the 
indirect  planetary 
influences;  postponed 
from  Sec.  12. 


Siderial  conditions 
directly  influencing 
human  interests. 


Proofs  that  man  and  his 
history  and  the  visible 
universe  are  committed 
to  each  other  and 
mutually  related. 


Mankind  merely  apart 
of  humanity. 
Kbause. 


Man's  central  position 
not  fortified  by  the 
illusory  idea,  that  stars 
are  inhabitable ; 


and  not  weakened  by 

quantative 

insignificance. 

Thought  more  than 
equivalent  to  the  vast* 
ness  of  dimensions. 


THE  HEAVENS  EXERT  INFLUENCES  UPON  HISTORY.        II.  A.  Ch.  I.  §  26. 

CH.  I.    DESCRIPTION  OF  THE  SCENERY  ;  CELESTIAL  BACKGROUND. 

§  26.  Entering  the  proscenium  upon  which  the  human  race  is  to  act  its  first  role, 
we  find  the  curtain  down.  Nevertheless,  we  may  examine  the  external  equipments, 
and  even  endeavor  to  search  into  the  hidden  scene.  What  we  metaphorically  call  the 
opera-house  is  the  place  for  the  people  who  were  actors  without  knowing  it,  and  at 
the  same  time  spectators  without  understanding  what  was  going  on.  What  we  call 
the  structure  of  the  great  edifice  includes  those  manifold  conditions  in  the  midst  of 
which  our  earth  is  situated.  In  order,  therefore,  to  understand  the  mighty  prepara- 
tions, we  have  to  consider  a  series  of  influences,  which  are  as  yet  almost  incommen- 
surable, which  however  interweave  themselves  with  the  civilisation  of  the  entire 
world. 

Humanity  as  well  as  man  individually  forms  the  apex,  as  it  were,  of  a  pyramid 
resting  below  in  broad  extent  upon  earth,  and  at  the  same  time  reclining,  as  seen 
from  every  side,  against  the  starry  sky.  Or  rather:  Man  in  his  earthly  appearance 
is  the  center  and  partly  the  result  of  the  enormous  periphery  of  the  whole  universe. 

We  are  in  the  same  perplexity  as  the  Egyptologist,  who,  unless  he  brings  the 
constellations  of  the  heavenly  world  into  relation  with  those  funeral  piles  upon  the 
borders  of  the  desert,  is  unable  to  interpret  the  full  meaning  of  these  monuments. 
In  other  words:  We  must  look  at  man  and  his  history  not  only  with  reference  to  his 
earthly  transient  situation,  but  also  with  respect  to  his  position  in,  and  relation  to, 
two  worlds. 

Says  Walter  Scott:"  Do  not  Christians  and  Heathens,  Jews  and  Gentiles,  poets  and 
philosophers  unite  in  allowing  the  starry  influences?" 

Without  emphasising  the  fact  admitted  on  every  side,  that  the  world  is  appropri- 
ated by  the  human  mind  wherever  the  cosmos  is  reflected  in  reason;  and  without  lay- 
ing much  stress  on  the  fact  that  man,  the  microcosm,  is  a  combination  of  all  elemen- 
tary components  of  the  universe;  and  not  deeming  it  necessary  to  refer  to  a  third  fact 
of  the  influence  exerted  by  the  skies  upon  history,  in  handing  down  from  heaven  the 
measure  of  space  and  time,  and  in  conditioning  the  distribution  and  development  of^ 
our  race:— there  yet  remains  another  view  to  be  taken  of  human  life.  There  are" 
problems  concerning  the  relations  between  personal  life  and  the  physical  skies  which 
reach  far  beyond  the  facts  mentioned.  But  our  present  surview  compels  us  to  post- 
pone the  consideration  of  that  aspect,which  takes  account  of  those  cosmical  relations 
of  our  planet  whereby  our  lives  are  but  indirectly  influenced. 

The  effects  of  sun  and  moon  upon  the  electric  currents,  encircling  and  affecting  the 
globe,  are  established  beyond  doubt;  so  are  the  interferences  of  forces  from  both  of  these 
bodies  with  the  tremendous    convulsions  going  on  within  the  thin  crust  of  our  earth. 

The  billows  of  lava  belching  forth  from  subterranean  depths,  and  the  undulations  of  the 
atmospheric  shell,  depend  as  much  upon  the  cyclical  return  of  astral  perturbations  as  the  ti- 
dal waves.  In  occurrences  of  this  kind,  in  volcanic  eruptions,  the  mechanism  of  the  laws  and 
the  regularity  of  their  effects  are  apparent,  altho  hidden  by  the  variety  of  the  phenomena  and 
by  their  sudden  changes  and  incomputable  intervals. 

All  this,  however,  does  not  cover  what  we  understand  by  the  central  position  of 
man  in  the  universe.  It  all  merely  shows,  how  man  with  his  history  and  the  visible 
universe  are  committed  to  one  another  and  mutually  related. 

When  Krause  lectured  on  the  Philosophy  of  History,  he,  in  his  pensive  manner,  spoke  of 
our  human  race  as  being  merely  a  "part  of  humanity."  Mankind  on  earth,  our  empiric  hu- 
manity, did  not  satisfy  him.  He  held,  that  Universal  History  necessarily  transcends  mundane 
existence.  To  him  it  resembled  a  turning  wheel.  The  starry  world  formed  the  rim ;  and  the 
stars  he  imagined  to  be  inhabited  by  human  beings  in  various  stages  of  perfection.  A  grand 
apperception;  a  pity  only,  that  it  is  an  idea  with  no  more  probability  of  realisation, than  the 
idea  of  establishing  communication  with  the  man  in  the  moon. 

Dismissing  the  claim  upon  a  star  for  a  man's  future  dominion  may  seem  unfav- 
orable to  his  central  position;  it  seems  to  become  weakened  more  yet  under  the  im- 
pression, of  which  we  can  not  rid  ourselves  altogether,  that  between  the  enormity  of 
the  solar  and  astral  systems  and  the  insignificance  of  our  diminutive  world,  tliere 
exists  such  a  contrast  in  quantity,  as  to  render  the  role  we  play  upon  our  scene  of 
action  a  paltry  affair.  This  is  one  of  the  incitements  of  thought  to  arise  and  show 
itself  equal  to  the  occasion;  to  exercise  its  power  in  the  mastery  of  physical  magni- 


n.  A.  CH.  I.  §  26.     VALUE  OF  MAN  vebsus  IMMENSITY  OF  THE  SOLAR  SYSTEM.  75 

tudes  and  in  manifesting  itself  as  more  than  their  equivalent;  to  outbalance  the  vast- 
ness  of  bulk  and  dimension  so  oppressive  to  our  feelings. 

Thus  our  problem  reaches  farther  than  the  cosmical  conditions  alluded  to. 

The  "Natural  Philosophy"  of  former  times  took  its  ease  in  contemplating  man  as  „      ^  ^^     . 

,.  ,,  ,  .  »^••11      "*'*  *'^"  *"®  universe  m 

the  "Microcosm".    He  was  estimated  as  being  the  heart  and  center  of  the  visible  contemplated  by  the, 

.  .     .  rrti  !••       1.    J.1  J.    Ti  1  «i        natural  philosophy    of 

universe,  the  entire   macrocosm  in   miniature.     The  radii  of  the  stellar  orbits  by-gone  times. 

concentrate  in  him;  the  planet  moves  and  forms  its  constellations  in  his  behalf;  it 

iondles  and  feeds  him.    Resting  upon  alchemy  and  soaring  up  to  astrology  this 

science  of  nature  from  its  heights  of  attainment  looked  down  upon  the  compound  of 

the  elements  as  upon  one  grand,  unitary  and  animated  body.    With  the  glittering 

stars  on  high  as  well  as  with  the  sparkling  crystals,  and  with  the  brilliant,  precious 

metals  deep  in  the  bosom  of  the  rocks  man  converses  and  stands  connected  as  by  Resume  of  the  ancient 

magic.    Innumerable  junctures  and  ominous  cycles,  represented  in  the  Zodiac  and  aboutmM^^'beh^" 

Kabbala    symbols,  and  secret  forces  seeking  and  fleeing  each  other:  all  form  a  mys-  p?kÄce£üs"'"°''°*™' 

,.,..  •  -,    ^  .ilj.  «XT  1  T  AORIPPA  VON  NeTTESHEIM 

tenons  nervus  rerum  which  is  imagined  to  connect  that  one  animated  and  resounding  flud,  jacob  bobhme, 
body.    Such  were  the  endeavors  of  thought  to  find  the  total  dififerential  and  counter-    '''""'         ^''' """ 
poise  in  the  interest  of  burdened  feelings. 

It  was  no  mean  superstition  that  made  the  Magi  of  old  follow  the  star  of  Bethlehem. 
And  if  those  were  superstitious  notions  to  which  Paracelsus,  Agrippa  von  Nettesheim,  and 
Robert  Flud  were  addicted,  when  in  simplicity  of  heart  and  integrity  of  purpose  they 
searched  for  the  "philosopher's  stone,"  they  ought  to  be  praised,  rather  than  upbraided.  This 
trio  simply  drew  the  sum  total  of  oriental  intuitions,  when  they  outlined  cosmical  life  by  geo- 
metrical figures  or  kabbalistic  buffoonery.  The  rays  of  the  stars  were  forced  down  to  man  KabbaU 
to  focus  in  him ;  and  man  made  the  best  possible  use,  under  the  circumstances,  of  these  scanty  Zodiac. 
lines  of  light  in  order  to  reach  up  into  the  stars— by  force  of  magic,  if  not  by  virtue  of 
thought.  People  conversant  with  the  art  in  which  Jacob  Boehme  excelled,  set  up  the  figure 
of  man  in  the  midst  of  the  zodiac  belt ;  and  then— by  lines  drawn  from  the  signs  and  constel- 
lations wherein  each  planet  stood  toward  each  corresponding  organ  and  mood  in  the  human 
body— they  would  establish  connections  with  the  feelings  and  fates  of  a  poor  little  heart.  In 
this  manner  Kepler  set  the  horoscope  for  Wallenstein,  and  figured  out  the  emperor's 
"nativity." 

These  attempts,  upon  the  whole,  were  made  to  solve  a  great  problem,  indiscrim- 
inately formulated  but  vividly  felt.  They  were  philosophical  experiments  of  a  high 
order  and  of  real  merit.  Using  the  incompetent  means  then  at  hand,  these  thinkers 
tried  to  bridge  the  awful  abyss  between  astronomical  expanse  and  human  predica- 
ments in  "  close  quarters."  It  was  the  unintentional  and  unconscious  activity  of  the  '^ 
intellect  to  liberate  feeling  from  the  pressure  of  overwhelming  immensities  and  dis- 
tances, and  to  assert  the  right  of  substituting  qualities  and  values  in  the  place  of 
quantities.  The  weight  of  man  was  put  into  the  scale  opposite  the  gigantic  masses 
and  their  embarrassing  order,  their  stiff,  chilling  method. 

Man's  royal  highness  was  to  be  exalted  over  the  universe  spinning  through 
space.    In  a  word,  it  Was  the  search  for  the  true  position  of  man  in  contrast  with 
mere  nature  ;  the  search,  too,  for  freedom  from  an  ecclesiastical  providence  which  Attempts  of  the  mind  u 
made  man's  dignity  its  game.    Aspirations  like  these  assuredly  desire  to  be  appreci-  »^ove  nature!*"*'  *'"' 
ated  rather  than  to  be  derided.    It  is  significant  that  by  these  very  efforts  more  sei-  m.entrwhereby''Kepi"er 
entific  gains  were  procured  than  some  seem  to  imagine.    Kepler,  for  instance,  dis-  "Equation  oAhe 
covered  the  real  transcendental  equation,  now  known  as  the  "Equation  of  the  Center."     '^  '"  *=•   » 

The  leading  idea  of  all  these  speculations— more  and  more  cleared  of  erroneous  inci- 
dentals during  the  process— about  the  value  of  the  mind  in  contrast  to  the  bulk  of 
matter,  will  maintain  its  right  as  long  as  science  itself  exists  as  the  proof  of  this 
truth. 

§  27.    The  cosmos  presents  itself  as  an  admirable  arrangement  and  systematic 
distribution  of  masses,  moving  in  orbits  of  geometrical  exactness,  and  concealing  ^j^^  ^^^^^  ^  ^^ 
their  perfect  harmony  under  an  artistic  carelessness  as  to  symmetrical  order,  whereby  worwotSueream'  » 
mechanical  monotony  is  avoided.  To  admire  and  magnify  it  as  reflecting  the  glory  of  tiaÄ'^hoVht'**"" 
the  higher  world,  as  the  parabolical  resemblance  of  the  true  altho  transeunt  reality 
is  certainly  not  improper.    We  take  it,  at  any  rate,  as  a  system  of  substantialised 
thoughts  sublime. 

There  are  eternal  laws  of  life  at  work  (regulating  the  polarity  of  potential  energies  along  tt     ^i        ^ 
with  the  relations  procured  thereby)  known  as  the  "Universals",  or  as  the  a  priori  cognitions  refu?ative  and^tef^al^ 
tabulated  in  Kant's  categories  which  determine  our  thinking,  and  which  are  innate  in  mind :  '*^^  °*  ^'**  imprinted 
eternal  laws  which  operate  with  mathematical  precision  and  with  logical  necessity,  and  which  '*^**°    *  *'"*°Sec.  10, 15. 
are  imprinted  also  upon  the  cosmos  in  the  forms  of  proportionate  measures  and  weights, 
chemical  affinities,  animal  instincts,  etc. 
8 


7& 


The  cosmos  as  the  pre- 
cipitate of  thought : 
in  itself  but  matter  in 
dead  motion. 


The  entire  universe, 
despite  its  awful  vast- 
ness  and  glory  and 
nascency,  consists  of 
mere  stuff  in  dead 
motion. 


Spectroscopic  analysis 
proves  it  to  be  the  world 
of  "material  unity." 


Samples  of  the 
"chemistry  of  the 
heavens." 


The  hypothesis  of 
inhabitability  of  the 
stars  not  harmless. 


The  hypothesis  of  a 
limitless,  unitary,  and 
inhabitable  universe 
unprofitable. 


The  visible  finite  world 
a  small  part  of  the 
invisible;  yet  the  center 
of  the  created  universe, 
which  is  limited  by  the 
invisible. 


The  earth  is  man's  own, 
as  the  universe  belongs 
to  him. 


The  invisible  world  in- 
fluences the  visible  in 
equal  manner  as  creation 
Infiuences  man. 


STARS  NOT  INHABITABLE.  '  11.  A.  Ch.  I.  §  27- 

That  is  to  say  no  more,  however,  than  that  this  precipitate  of  thought  into  which 
we  can  see,  is  nothing  but  matter  in  dead  motion.  It  is  blind  nature  tied  up  to  neces- 
sity, altho  reflecting  the  mind  outside  and  above  it.  The  universe  as  the  product  of 
the  nascency  of  nature  is  not  a  creation  of  unrestricted  life,  but  of  the  strained  con- 
trasts which  cause  the  phenomena  of  polar  tensions.  This  explains  why  the  contem- 
plation of  the  masses  above,  if  stripped  of  their  poetical  lustre  of  being  glorified 
worlds  of  light,  fills  man  with  awe  and  consternation.  Pondering  over  that  sway  of 
domineering  legality,  stringent  order,  and  blind  necessity,  man  at  first  becomes  dizzy 
and  confused.  Looking  into  the  distance  of  space,  discovering  ever  new  worlds  in 
boundless  expanse,  he  arrives  at  a  point,  where  the  understanding  comes  to  a  stand- 
still. This  incomprehensible  realm  seems  continually  to  reproduce  itself  out  of  the 
nascency  of  the  world-ether. 

Yet  we  insist  upon  the  fact  that  this  totality  of  nature  is  in  itself  but  elementary 
stuff  in  dead  motion;  it  is  proved  to  consist  everywhere  of  the  same  substance.  The 
galaxy  as  well  as  the  most  distant  asteroids  and  nebulae  shining  through  the  galaxy 
from  the  farthest  depths  of  space,  are  all  composed  of  the  same  materials  as  the  street 
we  are  passing.  Spectroscopic  analysis  has  established  this  beyond  controversy,  since 
it  initiated  the  "chemistry  of  the  heavens." 

'  The  atmosphere  of  the  sun  has  been  proven  to  contain  zinc  and  copper ;  that  of  the  fixed 
star  Adebaran,  quicksilver  and  tellurium.  The  spectroscope  has  revealed  the  fact  that  nebu- 
lae, which  were  a  standing  puzzle  up  to  present  times  are  nothing  but  masses  of  bwrning' 
gaseous  substances.  This  visible  universe  thus  presents  itself  as  a  fabric  of  incessant  forma- 
tion. There  is  no  void  in  space ;  everywhere  things  are  generating  and  passing  away ;  pass- 
ing into  transition  and  reproduction,  compaotness  and  explosion,  concentration  and  combu.s- 
tion.  The  history  of  the  cosmos  with  all  its  splendor  comes  under  the  heading  of  dead  motion. 
And  this  commotion  of  masses  in  space  remains  to  us  as  incomprehensible  as  space  itself. 
And  a  star  is  to  all  appearances  a  lonely  deserted  portion  of  space,  not  to  say  a  gloomy  waste, 
evidently  not  a  suitable  dwelling-place  for  angels. 

But  will  not  such  an  assertion  have  to  be  taken  as  a  reproach  against  the  eternal 
wisdom  of  God,  if  life  in  the  common-sense  use  of  the  term,  if  animation  is  denied  to 
the  multitudes  of  stars?  if  they  have  to  be  conceived  as  purposeless?  The  emptiness  of 
such  a  universe  in  the  vast  expanse  of  which  our  earth  should  whirl  around  without 
neighbors  fit  for  companionship  may  become  oppressive  indeed.  It  seems  harmless 
and  preferable  to  imagine,  that,  if  not  goddesses,  at  least  creatures  inhabit  these 
worlds:  now  astral  ghosts,  now  angelic  beings.  But  these  suppositions  were  not  quite  so 
harmless  in  times  past;  and  a  certain  amount  of  danger  is  still  lurking  in  such 
fancies. 

The  error  of  such  imaginary  reasoning  originates  in  the  poor,  mechanical  pre- 
supposition that  this  visible  universe,  our  cosmos,  was  all  that  had  been  created.  A 
part  was  taken  for  the  whole.  May  it  not  be  possible,  even  probable,  that  the  uni- 
verse, including  the  most  distant  star-heaps,  is  to  be  conceived  as  a  fraction  only,  a 
diminuitive  world,  as  compared  with  worlds  beyond?  The  averment  that  our  visible 
universe  is  unlimited  and  the  single  one,  is  to  be  taken  for  what  it  is  worth:  as  an 
arbitrary  and  gratuitous  supposition  by  which  to  prop  another  unprofitable  hypothe- 
sis. For,  scientific  bearing  it  has  none.  Against  the  truth  that  this  world  is  ours,  no 
objection  on  the  ground  of  its  being  the  only  and  limited  world,  could  stand  the  test. 
If  raised  it  could  in  no  manner  shake  our  dogma,  viz:  that  man  is  the  blossom  and 
crown  of  creation;  and  that  for  his  sake  the  earth,  altho  not  as  to  its  quantity  and 
astronomical  position,  yet  with  respect  to  its  purposive  significance  is  really  the  center 
of  all  created  worlds,  of  the  entire  universe. 

We  take  it  for  granted  and  sufiicient  for  all  practical  purposes,  that  this  visible 
world  Is  that  of  man,  that  It  belongs  to  him;  that  around  him  and  his  secret  the  cosmos 
revolves.  A  transient  cloud-picture  in  the  clear  firmament  is  as  nothing  compared 
with  the  extended  blue  background.  Just  as  insignificant  may  this  visible  universe 
be,  when  compared  with  the  impenetrable  invisible  world. 

If  we  may  venture  to  suppose  the  possibility,  at  least,  of  a  similar  difference 
between  the  cosmos  and  the  invisible  world  then  the  solitude  of  our  little  earth  will 
be  less  awful,  tho  this  small  planet  alone  be  inhabited  by  rational  beings. 

If  from  a  certain  fear  of  loneliness  we  would  reject  this  hypothesis,  then  we  would  be 
moved  to  awe  none  the  less  by  the  sands  of  the  Sahara,  each  grain  of  which  forms  an  unintel- 


H.  A.  CH.  I.  §  27.  THE  STANDARD  MEASURE  OF  MAGNITUDES.  77 

ligrible  and  to   all   appearances   purposeless   particle.     Amazement  at  each  armor-scaled 

infusorium  of  the  genus  foraminifera  of  which  the  chalk  formation  in  the  cretaceous  strata 

consists ;  or  at  the  compressed  ferns  and  other  cryptogams  of  the  primeval  world,  which  form 

layers  like  the  lig-nite-bearing  beds  on  the  Pacific  coast,  and  like  the  Appalachian  coal-fields  i^tohiorganic'ma^r 

of  50000  and  60000  square-miles  respectively-would  be  just  as  justifiable,  as  our  astonishment  at 

an  empty,  useless  star. 

Immensity  is  a  mere  relative  conception.  The  hugeness  of  the  heavenly  bodies 
can  no  more  be  compared  with  the  smallness  of  our  earth,  than  the  Himalayas 
with  a  human  brain.  In  order  to  make  comparisons,  we  need  a  standard  measure  for 
magnitudes  ;  we  ought  to  agree,  first,  upon  what  is  to  be  called  magnificent.  A 
microscopic  object  may  cause  admiration  as  profound  as  another,  discovered  through 
the  telescope.  Perhaps  the  standard  of  greatness  wanted  is  hidden  in  the  lens 
through  which  we  look,  after  all.    The  splendor  of  starlight  above  our  heads  glitter-  „ 

°  .  °  Measure  of  greatness  in 

ing  through  incommensurable  distances,  and  the  unlimited  throng  of  luminous  jelly-  ^^1^"^^*^'^''"^*'  ^^'"^ 

fishes  (medusae  lucernuridae)  glistening  upon  the  briny  deep  below  our  keel,  will 

make  it  difficult  to  decide,  whether  the  greater  or  more  astonishing  facts  of  natural  whethe"the*^m'o'fe* 

«  11  11  astonishing  facts  are 

science  are  found  above  or  below.  found  tiirough  the 

telescope  or  microscope. 

Yet  both  these  worlds,  the  starry  sky  full  of  brilliancy  and  mysteries,  and  the  „  ,     , 

,       /.    1      1  .^        i.  .1.*  J  jx  .  .  .:.  1         »    ii  Worlds  above  and  below 

wonderful  deposit  of  organic  hfe,  reduced  to  an  inorganic  world,  are  made  of  the  same  consist  of  the  same 

elementary  stuff. 

structure,  an  entity  of  homogeneous  elements. 

For  the  sake  of  argument  we  might  enlarge  upon  a  notion  of  Hegel,  corroborating  our 
view.    He  was  of  the  opinion  that  the  earth  is  the  most  concrete,  and  in  its  kind  the  most  ex-  caution  against  ancient 
alted  member  of  the  cosmical  organism,  of  this  visible  universe.    But  since  this  opinion,  if  cosmogonies. 
pushed  to  a  conclusion,  would  fall  in  with  the  cosmogonies  of  ancient  traditions,  we  will  not 
commit  ourselves  to  it. 

Upon  the  earth,  small  as  it  is,  mighty  commotions  have  been  and  are  still  going 
on,  in  which  the  entire  universe  cooperates  as  the  concomitant,      to  which  it  ren- 
ders the  background.    More  than  that.    The  whole  periphery  and  background  with 
all  their  spheres  are  engaged  in  the  upbuilding  of  the  human  body.    This  is  formed 
under  influences  from  very  distant  environments  not  less  than  from  the  terrestrial 
world  around  us.    Thus  heaven  and  earth  assist  in  the  formation  of  universal  his-  Heaven  and  earth 
tory.    The  cosmos  furnishes  the  stage,  and  portions  out  the  duration  of  seasons,  pe-  Ery,  sSc^X*  human 
riods,  eons.    This  universe  being  that  of  man,  makes  his  story  universal  history  in-  usue.''  *^^  '=°™°'°'^ 
deed.    It  is  this  which  requires  our  attention  ;  hence  we  hasten  to  get  away  from 
yonder  expanse,  where  poetic  fancy  loves  to  roam,  but  thought  declines  to  follow. 

CH.  II.    THE  STAGE  SCENERY  OF  HISTORY— TERRESTRIAL  BACKGROUND. 

§  28.  If  we  have  not  succeeded  in  bringing  out  the  invisible  celestial  world 
as  the  corollary  of  the  visible  universe  ;  if  we  dare  not  flatter  ourselves  to  have 
demonstrated  the  excellency  and  importance  of  our  planet  as  its  center,  purpose  and 
issue,  for  whose  sake  all  the  astronomical  constellations  take  place  in  order  to 
serve  as  chronometers  and  to  disclose  the  first  principles  of  mathematics— we  may 
yet  entertain  the  hope  of  having  secured  a  greater  esteem  for,  and  to  have 
excited  some  higher  expectations  with  reference  to,  our  little  planet  and  its  mar- 
ginal average,  as  compared  with  the  immensity  of  the  astral  display. 

TTT  •  1 1    o  j^  A  .  Importance  of  the 

We  will  for  a  moment  present  to  our  minds  that  gigantic  nebular  ball  which  f*"^**»-  notwithstanding 

^       _,  ,      .  .         ,  .  °  °  its  comparative  insig- 

arose  in  La  Place  s  imagination.  nificance,  better 

■^  established. 

From  that  gaseous  globe,  by  force  of  its  rotation,  one  part  after  another  became  detached 
and  was  thrown  out  into  space.    Each  of  these  projectiles  continues  to  whirl  around,  conden-  laPlapks hypothesis; 
sing  and  rounding  itself,  under  the  law  of  gravity.    Each  in  order  to  concur  in  the  rhythmical  continual  detachment 
dance  of  the  spheres,  is  kept  in  perpetual  eliptical  motion  by  reciprocal  attraction,  proportional  different^atkm''  ^Sec.  24 
to  the  quantity  of  matter  and  the  squares  of  distances.    Their  interdependence  does  not  forbid 
ensuing  subdivisions. 

Thus  the  solar  system  is,— owing  to  Herschel's  affirmations  and  to  the  proofs  of  the  spec-  herschel,  Ross. 
troscope— despite  the  exceptions  taken  by  Ross,— generally  acknowledged  to  have  originated, 
under  such  separations,  and  the  differentiation  to  have  been  thus  animated,  of  which  the  mul-   'Material  unity  under 
tiplicity  of  nature's  formations  are  the  copies  and  final  results.    Hence  the  "material  unity    °™** '^'^®"'*y-  g^^^ 
under  formal  diversity." 

Concerning  our  earth,  which  now  alone  interests  us,  we  adopt,  for  argument's 
sake,  this  theory  of  its  gaseous  origin.  Heat  diminishes,  some  elements  enter  new 
combinations,  new  conditions  multiply.    Complex  portions  become  solid  and  separate 


78; 


FORMATION  OF  THE  SOLAR  SYSTEM. 


II.  A.  Ch.  II.  §  28 


Fixed  tendency  of 
nature  to  develop  from 
unity  into  the  manifold. 


Formation  of  our  globe. 
Webkbb. 


A.  V.  Httmboldt, 
L.  V.  Buch. 


Genesis  of  th«  globe. 


The  earth's  history  re- 
peats itself  in  histoiy 
proper;  but  no  further 
than  what  human 
biology  is  involved  in 
the  nascency  of  nature. 


The  globe  firm,  its  sur- 
face still  changing. 
BiTTEB,  Ltxll. 


Changes  of  even  the  sur- 
face in  the  second  and 
through  the  fourth  or 
Glacial  period  up  to  the 
"stone  age." 


or  protrude  from  the  gaseous  mass  according  to  their  more  liquid  or  more  solid  shapes. 
The  first  heterogeneity  signifies  the  beginning  of  the  formative  process,  that  is,  of 
differentiation.  It  becomes  the  fixed  tendency  of  nature  to  develop  out  of  the  oneness 
into  the  manifold. 

Gases  moving  into  new  relations  generate  what  now  is  discovered  to  be  "liquid  air." 
The  fluids,  being  heavier,  gravitate  to  the  center  of  the  spheroid.    The  gaseous  remain- 
der escapes  from  the  nucleus,  which  cools  off  and  contracts.    Chemical  affinities  are  on  the 
inc'rease.    Sidereal  changes  occasion  upheavals,  ruptures ;  and  torrents  of  the  liquids  rush  to 
and  fro,  especially  when  mountains  rise  and  immense  areas  of  oceanic  bottoms  suddenly  sink. 

Such  are  the  rudimentary  premises  of  the  generally  accepted  or,  at  least,  most  popular 
geogonic  interpretations.  From  this  stage  of  geognosy  let  us  follow  the  course  of  Werner's 
arguments,  which  were  but  little  modified  by  those  of  A.  v.  Humboldt  and  Leop.  v.  Buch.  It 
describes  a  mode  of  slower  formation. 

At  the  bottom  of  the  liquid  which  covea-s  the  nucleus,  the  promiscuous  mass  of  a  stony 
precipitate-stretches  forth.  New  driftings  form  upper  strata  whose  pressure  upon  the  lower 
causes  them  to  harden  into  crystalline  stratifications.  The  flowing  waters  carry  together 
homogeneous  matter.  The  elements  find  and  bind,  flee  and  free,  and  amalgamate  with,  each 
other. 

Intermingled  matter  is  gradually  transformed  into  solid  combinations.  A  kind  of  fer- 
mentation agitates  the  masses.  Pressure,  then  counterpressure  is  exerted.  The  granite  crust 
warps,  it  bursts.  Furrows  open,  folds  double  up.  Mountain  ridges  are  lifted  up,  whilst  below 
the  labor  of  stretching  and  rising  continues.  Transverse  folds  ensue  so  that  the  backs  of 
mountains  are  broken  and  cross- ridges,  passes,  and  gorges,  and  valleys  are  formed  thereby. 
The  steepest  peaks  and  wildest  ravines  alternate  where  tbe  most  primeval  layers  are  lifted 
highest  and  do  not  furnish  loose  material  enough  to  fill  up  the  gaps. 

The  gases  and  tvaters  also  continue  their  transitions.  Rains  and  floods  wash  out  water- 
courses. For  many  centuries  glaciers  convey  and  deposit  moraines,  which  are  now  high  pla- 
teaus. The  movintain  chains  stretch  away  from  east  to  west  on  the  eastern,  and  from  north  to 
south  on  the  western  hemisphere.  The  austere  ''Rockies"  and  the  Alpine  systems,  owe  their 
origin  to  the  mechanical  and  subtile  movements  of  crystalline  formation ;  while  the  rugged 
Cascades  owe  theirs  to  sudden  and  more  recent  eruptions. 

The  fact  is,  that  water  and  ice  had  more  to  do  with  the  formation  of  the  present  surface 
of  the  earth  than  subterranean  fires ;  that  the  expansion  and  warping  of  the  crust  was  a  more 
indirect  result ;  and  that  sudden  volcanic  eruptions  are  not  the  rule,  being  as  a  general  thing 
of  rather  local  occurrence,  as,  for  instance,  those  convulsions  which  must  have  taken  place 
around  the  Pacific  Ocean. 

Thus  we  see  the  ground  coming  forth  into  daylight,  preparatory  to  higher  and 
ever  more  self  differentiating  forms  of  being.  We  refrain,  however,  from  tracing  out 
the  formation  of  human  history  as  if  it  were  analogous  to  that  of  the  structural  uni- 
verse. The  earth's  history  repeats  itself  no  further  in  history  proper,  than  human  bi- 
ology is  involved  in  the  nascency  of  nature. 

Such  construction  has  been  tried  and  history  trifled  with.  Here  and  there  we  shall  not 
hesitate  to  allude  to  the  analogies,  whenever  the  process  of  natural  development  bears  upon 
both  nature  and  history,  with  sufficient  importance  or  real  congruity  as  to  justify  their  being 
noted. 

§  29.  The  foundation  of  the  theatre  of  history  is  laid  deep  and  stands  firm.  The 
great  partitions,  those  mountain  ranges  between  which  the  life  of  the  nations  is  to 
move,  the  coulisses  from  which  the  actors  enter,  are  erected. 

But  the  earth  is,  to  say  with  Carl  Ritter,  "  a  cosmic  individual  designed  for  pro- 
gressive development."  Hence  we,  too,  proceed.  After  the  main  formations  were 
completed  and  the  continents  delineated,  a  series  of  finishing  touches  are  discernible. 

Lyell  (taking  Europe  alone  into  consideration !)  speaks  of  a  "First  Continental  Period" 
when  the  mainlands  were  higher  and  extended  farther  into  the  seas.  A  period  of  general 
sinking  seems  demonstrable  in  which  many  islands  were  separated  from  continents.  The  de- 
pression was,  however,  more  general  than  Lyell  thought ;  and  it  must  have  taken  place  even 
at  the  ocean  bottoms.  The  very  large  basins  of  greatest  depth  must  have  sunk  so  abruptly  as 
to  suddenly  drain  the  continents  by  roaring  floods  and  thus  considerably  tear  them  up. 

This  must  have  happened  before  the  "Glacial  period,"  i.  e.  Lyell's  " Second  Continental 
Period,"  set  in.  New  elevations  cause  the  reunion  of  some  islands  with  their  mainlands.  Isth- 
muses emerge  from  the  floods  and  connect  continents.  Glaciers  spread  themselves  here  and 
recede  there ;  one-half  of  what  are  now  the  United  States  is  buried  under  moving  ice-fields. 
It  seems  strange,  but  it  has  been  ascertained  even  in  America,  that  the  traces  of  the  elephant 
and  the  hippopotamus,  and  even  man,  are  to  be  assigned  to  this  period.  Up  to  the  fourth  pe- 
riod various  detachments  of  islands,  climatic  changes,  etc.,  are  caused  by  the  sea-currents  be- 
ing changed,  the  sea-bottoms  subsiding  and  the  sea-coasts  being  submerged.  Tranquil  and 
slow  as  such  changes  continue,  and  little  as  the  present  condition  difPers  from  that  of  the  lake 
dwellers  in  the  pile-villages — who  are  said  to  have  had  their  time  in  the  ".stone  age,"  at  least 
five  thousand  years  ago— the  quiet  procedure  of  similar  changes  is  still  observable. 


n.  A.  CH.  n.  §  29.  TELEOLOGY  AND  GEOGRAPHY.  7* 

Let  those  whom  it  pleases  not  seek  other  explanations  for  paleontolo&ical  or  paleonto- 
graphical  and  geog^raphical  problems.  Let  the  question  be  discussed  whether  water  or  fire 
took  the  most  important  part  in  preparing  our  scenery.  Answers  to  these  inquiries  are  of 
little  consequence  to  the  problem  now  before  us. 

All  that  we  are  concerned  with  is  a  definite  cognition  of  the  labor  of  progressive  the  ubor^of  progrewiT« 
differentiation.    If  we  may  compare  the  body  of  the  earth,  as  it  surmounts  the  level 
of  the  ocean  covering  two-thirds  of  the  surface  and  articulating  the  continents,  with  SJÄmltion  Lnd 
the  organism  of  the  human  body,  then  we  are  justified  to  speak  of  continents  as  eSSrl^Trface,  so^far 
members  and  organs  by  means  of  which  the  earth-body  performs  its  part  in  the  task  human  me'lri""^  ° 

of  universal  history.  detennmed  thereby. 

The  formative  or  constructive  principle,  i.  e.  the  thought  underlying  our  cor- 
poreal structure,  can  not  be  understood,  unless  we  learn  for  what  purpose  and  func-  J^^fte^arth-rsur- 
tions  the  parts  or  organs  are  intended.    So  the  thought  which  underlies  the  formation  body/oni?«piicabie'^ 
of  our  globe  becomes  intelligible  as  soon  as  we  learn  to  appreciate  the  historical  Si°^,S^ce*''**°"°*^ 
significance  which  the  continents  bear  by  virtue  of  their  position  and  natural  char- 
acteristics. ,   . 

Teleological  view 

Hence  we  now  contemplate  the  teleological  significance  of  our  terrestrial  scene  ^p^°  *J^if^o^'J§^the^ 

of  action.  earths  surface. 

According  to  Ritter,  again,  the  course  of  history  is  prescribed  by  the  given  situa- 
tions and  relations  to  geographically  divided  space.    He  undertook  to  prove  "the  pos- 
sibility of  predicting  the  progress  of  every  nation  as  modified  by  the  reg^ion  it  in- 
habits."   "Only  upon  the  appointed  soil  is  that  welfare  obtainable  which  fate,  eternal 
and  just,  has  put  in  store  for  every  loyal  people".     So  much  for  the  teleology  teK^H^  "'" 
of  the  geographer.     The  fallacy  of  such  sanctimonious  effusion  results   from  a  *'''°^*  "'°^ 
lack  of  insight.    The  fact  is  overlooked,  that  the  natural  grounds  of  national  develop- 
ment are  nowhere  and  no  longer  the  original  and  normal  conditions.    And  it  is  just  geoSph^cai^conditions. 
this  difference  between  original  and  present  geographical  conditions  which  we  ought 
to  consider,  for  it  is  indicated  on  every  side.    Teleological  contemplation  is  valuable 
only  in  proportion  to  the  modesty  of  its  expectations.    Thought  (and  the  wish  father- 
ing it)  must  not  undertake  to  prove  too  much. 

Asia  at  one  time  extended  a  great  distance  farther  east,  and  was  also  more  closely  con-  original  ship«  of  Asia, 
tiguous  to  Malayan  India  than  at  present ;  for  the  South  Sea  of  China  seems  to  be  a  more  re- 
cent depression.    A  series  of  open  questions  startles  us  at  the  very  beginning  of  our  inquiry 
for  original  conditions.    We  see  that  we  must  reckon  with,  at  the  least,  variable  quantities, 
tho  we  thought  the  basis  of  the  earth's  history  to  stand  so  firm. 

Capeland  was  by  Hooker  recognised  as  a  primeval  and  independent  island,  annexed  to  *       «       # 

Africa  only  by  the  subsequent  alluvions  which  made  the  continent  grow  toward  the  south.  Africa. 
We  have,  on  the  other  hand,  a  number  of  main-lands,  the  greater  Antilles  for  instance,  which 
become  islands  by  the  subsiding  and  receding  coast  of  their  continent,  the  very  coast  which 
previously  had  been  the  interior  country  of  South  America.    The  Po  and  the  Adigo  have,  in 
almost  imperceptible  manner  transformed  the  old  sound  between  the  Alps  and  Apennines  into 
very  fertile  lowlands.    So    have     Volga,  Nile  and  Mississippi  created  large  plains  for  pastoral 
tribes  and  for  organised  and  powerful  nations.    The  coasts  of  the  Scandinavian  peninsula  are 
perceptibly  rising  whilst  the  opposite  Prussian  low-lands  are  sinking  into  the  Baltic.    The 
symmetrical  arrangement  of  circles  of  volcanic  islands  under  tho  very  remarkable  circum- 
stance, that  most  of  the  volcanoes  are  situated  in  rows  which  often  exactly  correspond  to  the 
curves  of  eruptive  quakes ;  the  Cordillera-like  chains  of  atolls;  and  many  other  phenomena  Conundrums  of  teleo« 
indicating  method  in  their  occurrence,  present  perplexing  conundrums  to  a  teleological  view  ^°8>cai  geograp  y. 
of  geography. 

§  30.    Teleology  thus  stands  with  us  before  an  incessant  restlessness  and  trans- 
formation.   It  is  self  evident  that  symmetrical  shape  in  the  articulation  of  continents  ly^^^^  ?*  gerg"ph?-* 
attracts  the  attention  and  incites  speculation  as  to  the  import  upon  the  life  of  their  not be*pSs'ed  '"'^ 
inhabitants.    Let  us  look  upon  some  of  the  most  striking  features  of  this  kind.  teieoiogicaiiy. 

A  diagonal  line  drawn  through  the  Isthmus  of  Suez  across  the  middle  of  both 
the  African  and  Asiatic  continents,  forms  a  very  suggestive  axis  for  both  of  these  African-Asiatic  axi». 
grand  parts  of  the  world,  which,  because  of  their  connection  by  the  narrow  strip 
between  the  two  great  gulfs,  may  well  be  considered  as  one  continent  like  the  two 
Americas.    And  a  line  cutting  the  latter  lengthways  will  show  a  similar  division  two  AmerilM^" " 
into  equal  parts  of  area  on  both  sides. 

Now  both  of  these  lines  may  have  a  bearing  upon  the  condition  of  the  inhabi-  JounthlgS^^wcti 
tants;  but  their  significance  does  not  lie  in  their  symmetry.  symmetry. 


80 


Axis  of  the  Asiatic- 
European  mountain 
system. 


In  the  north,  barbarians, 
south  of  them  nations  of 
culture. 


Series  of  deserts. 


Common  axis  poising 
upon  Bolor  Tagh. 


Far  reaching  effects  of 
sands  drifted  from  the 
"walls"  by  the  winds. 


System  of  the  Oceans. 


Three  Oceans.    Buffoh. 


Three  Mediterranean 
gulfs.  Sec.  196. 


Conditions  modifying. 


Tariegation  of  fauna 
and  flora. 


GEOGRAPHICAL  ARTICULATION  OF  THE  EARTH'S  SURFACE.  II.  Ch.  II.  §  30 

What  in  these  geographical  profiles  we  fancy  to  find  as  being  symmetrical,  we 
rather  ought  to  conceive  as  such  ingenious  strokes  which  we  notice  in  the  sketch  of 
an  artist,  who  does  not  care  for  details,  but  is  certain  of  thus  representing  the  charac- 
ter of  the  whole,  and  who  is  sure  of  his  success  in  expressing  the  ideal  conception 
which  stands  out  plastic  before  his  mind. 

Under  this  proviso  we  admit  that  geographical  import  is  unquestionable,  especi- 
ally with  that  other  axis  formed  by  the  portentous  Asiatic-European  mountain- 
system  from  the  Biscayan  gulf  to  the  Amoor  river  separating  the  countries  north  and 
south.  Posterior  events  render  this  axis  of  so  great  significance  as  to  convey  the  idea, 
that  it  had  been  predestined  as  a  means  for  very  definite  ends. 

To  the  north  of  this  mountain-axis  there  camps  and  wanders  in  the  east,  up  to  recent 
times  in  the  west,  too,  a  great  variety  of  peoples,  of  barbarians,  which  history  has  passed  by 
nearly  unnoticed.  To  the  south  we  clearly  observe  from  the  earliest  times  organical  differen- 
tiations of  one  civilised  people  after  an  other.  In  the  several  well  articulated  countries  on 
this  side  we  admire  now  the  ancient  Asiatic  culture,  and  then  the  all-controlling  civilisation  in 
the  Mediterranean  basin.  And  both  of  these  have  not  ceased  as  yet  to  partake  of  the  very  per- 
ceptible polar  tension,  which  seems  to  poise  in  this  axis  and  which  makes  the  heirs  of  these 
cultures  divide  among  themselves  the  task  of  enlightening  the  world. 

Equally  important  is  that  row  of  almost  contiguous  deserts,  which  stretches  from  the 
western  coast  of  Africa  far  into  China,  running,  in  the  main,  south  of,  and  parallel  with,  these 
mountains  which  cut  the  world  in  two.  Bolor  Tagh,  the  "Roof  of  the  World",  intersects  that 
catena  of  deserts,  which  begins  at  Cape  Blanco  and  extends  to  the  steppes  of  the  Obi,  through 
the  Gobi  desert  as  far  as  the  Amoor.  Those  deserts  lie  under  zones  of  distinct  and  regular  at- 
mospheric currents.  From  the  barren  slopes  of  the  gigantic  partition- wall  drifts  of  sanrl  were 
carried  away  by  the  prevailing  north-eastern  trade-winds.  Thus  the  plains  were  changed  into 
desolate  wastes,  impressing  their  sterile  nature  upon  the  character  of  the  people  who  also 
had  drifted  thither. 

These  natural  conditions,  caused  by  the  wall  and  the  winds,  gave  rise  to  those 
migrations,  which  like  tornadoes,  more  than  once,  in  a  mad  rush  devastated  countries 
and  buried  cultures  under  ruins. 

The  lofty  crests  and  windy  sand-oceans  are  of  greater  importance  than  merely  to 
serve  in  dividing  and  differentiating  nations  or  to  form  "dead"  ethnical  substrata. 
Such  mountain  heights  possess  a  power  of  exerting  not  only  direct  infiuences,  but 
also  to  cause  and  to  control  far-reaching  effects. 

The  clefts  into  which  they  are  torn,  the  storms  and  rains  which  they  attract  and 
curb,  the  waters  which  they  send  down  in  specific  river-systems— all  must  help  to 
create  nations,  to  locate  cities,  to  found  or  destroy  empires,  to  stimulate  national 
prosperity,  to  propel  history.  As  in  the  case  of  mountains  and  deserts,  so  it  is  with 
the  oceans.  It  will  be  advisable  to  adopt  a  division  of  the  world's  waters  into  three 
great  basins  with  their  annexes  of  seas,  gulfs,  and  sounds,  viz:  the  Atlantic,  the  Pa- 
cific, and  the  South  Sea,  each  maintaining  its  more  or  less  peculiar  character.  The 
other  adjoining  or  surrounding  waters  are  but  inlets  of  these  oceans.  The  Mediter- 
ranean for  instance  is  an  inlet  of  the  Atlantic;  nothing  else  is  its  other,  the  American 
Mediterranean,  as  Buffon  named  the  Gulf  of  Mexico.  With  equal  propriety  may  the 
third  one,  between  Asia  and  Australia,  be  considered  as  a  part  of  the  South  Sea.  Each 
of  these  gulfs  separates  the  main-lands  of  its  vicinity  in  such  a  manner,  that  these 
countries  severally  seem  to  have  been  necessary  p.s  ethnographic  mediums  for  both 
differentiations  and  connections. 

There  are  reasons,  indeed,  to  believe,  that  with  the  changes  wrought  upon  the 
earth's  surface,  with  the  formation  of  coastlines,  and  with  the  increase  of  local  modi- 
fications, there  went  on,  simultaneously,  the  variegaticm  of  the  fauna  and  the  flora, 
together  with  the  formation  of  the  ethnical  peculiarities  of  the  inhabitants.  The 
more  historic  coeflicients,  bound  up  in  confined  life,  were  set  free,  the  more  was  this 
increasing  variety  enabled  to  further  the  independent  development  of  specific  na- 
tionalities, and  to  afford  them  bases  and  places  for  operation. 

At  this  stage  of  the  formation  of  the  surface,  when  it  is  finally  fixed  so  that  the 
map  of  the  earth  presents  its  modem  geographical  accuracy,  the  geologist  started  in 
with  his  investigations. 

To  the  historian  the  task  begins  when,  upon  the  fundamental  substructure  for 
the  theatre  of  history,  the  first  man  enters  the  scene.  The  further  work,  the  rearing 
up  of  the  historical  superstructure,  is  given  intp  his  charge. 


n.  A.  Ch.  III.  §  31.  'FOSSIL  MAN.  81 

CH.  III.    REMNANTS  OF  PREHISTORIC  MAN— LOCALITY  OF  HIS  ORIGIN. 

§  31.    Preceding  considerations  of  the  theme  of  history  induced  us  to  symbolise  Man  based  upon  earth, 
our  synopsis  of  man's  natural  appearance  by  the  figure  of  a  pyramid  resting  with  its  ^^^"'"'^  ^^^'"""^^  ^^""""^ 
base  broadly  upon  the  earth  and  its  apex  leaning  against  the  sky.    Equally  descrip-  pyramid. 
live  will  be  the  hollow,  carved  ivory  ball  of  the  Chinese  which  contains  a  number  of        ^*"'" ''  ^^'  ^^'  '^^ 
other  involuted  spheroid  shells,  and  by  which  they  symbolise  their  conception  of  the 
universe  and  all  that  is  going  on  in  it.    We  may  for  once  adopt  the  metaphor  of  faSnÄfchine^e''" 
three  hollow,  concentric  or  rather  involuted  spheroids  of  which  the  largest  represents  u'^";;^^;^^'"  °*  *^^ 
the  astral,  the  narrower  the  mundane  world,  whilst  the  third  and  innermost  repre-  ^, 

'  ,  .  .  .  Three  spheroids  repre- 

sents  man  as  the  essence  and  center  of  both  ;  or,  what  is  equivalent  to  it,  the  historic  renting  the  astrai,  the 

,  mundane,  and  the 

world,  which  is  man  unfolded,  forms  the  third  spheroid.    We  averred  that  man  is  the  i^istoric  worlds. 

Sec.  221,  234. 

final  and  visible  issue  of  both  our  external  spheroids,  under  the  proviso  that  his 
spiritual  essence  belongs  to  still  another  world,  which,  invisibly,  and  from  an  inner- 
most and  central  source,  pervades,  transcends,  and  embraces  all  our  spheroids. 
•     For  the  present,  however,  we  descend  from  these  heights  of  ideal  apperception    S'l^an.''^  investigation 
and  lay  aside  the  crutches  of  metaphoric  representation    in  order  to  resume  the  in- 
ductive method  of  viewing  man  as  he  really  appears. 

Geology  presents  us  with  fossil  man.    Here  history  finds  the  starting  point.  "Fossii  man.- 

As  early  (or  as  late)  as  1863  Lyell  made  an  index  of  the  remnants  of  men  found  in  the  de- 

.  Index  of  the  remains 

luvian  drittingS.  found;  made  by  Ly»ll. 

They  lie  in  the  caves  of  Languedoc,  firmly  imbedded  among'  the  bones  of  hyenas  and 
rhinocerotidse.  They  lie  in  the  caverns  of  Lieg-e  together  with  the  remains  of  various  extinct 
species  of  the  fauna.  Parts  of  the  skeletons  of  seventy  men  are  found  in  the  cave  of  Aurignac 
together  with  flint-knives  and  tools  made  of  bones  of  the  cave-bear  and  the  reindeer.  All 
these  and  other  circumstances  indicate  an  exceedingly  remote  antiquity.  The  fact  is  corro-  history. 
borated,  that  man  lived  in  Europe  and  perhaps  in  North  America,  too,  contemporaneously 
with  the  elephant  and  rhinoceros,  animals  extinct  long  ago  in  those  parts  of  the  world. 

There  was  a  time,  when  the  Vosges.  the  Peaks  and  Grampian  groups  were  covered 
with  glaciers.  "Fossil  man,"  so  Fahlroth  designated  the  find  in  the  Neander-glen,  may  then 
have  lived  in  proximity  to  these  glaciers.  Nobody  can  decide  for  or  against  this.  But  so  much 
is  certain  that  despite  these  late  discoveries  the  search  after  the  "connecting  link"  was  in  vain. 
It  only  became  the  more  evident  thereby  that  scientists  made  a  poor  show  with  the  labored 
proofs  deduced,  rather  inferred  from  cephalic  measurements.  That  skull  of  Cannstadt,  so 
much  "monkeyed"  with,  has  become  valueless  as  regards  the  desiderata  of  extreme  evolu-  Schottkt,  J.  Rakm, 
tionists,  since  it  was  sent  from  Stuttgart  to  Paris.  The  renowned  "Neander  skull"  has  been  on^'^ercent  of  man." 
demonstrated  by  Virchow  to  be  a  malformation,  an  object  of  pathology  of  the  same  sort  as  the 
Shipka  jaw-bone.  On  that  score  the  investigators  have  good  reason  to  coincide  with  Schottky : 
"Man's  origin  remains  an  unsolved  riddle.  Yea,  the  further  we  follow  the  earliest  trace  of 
the  existence  of  our  race,  the  less  can  the  veil  be  lifted  which  obscures  our  view  as  to  the 
descent  of  man." 

Joh.  Ranke  affirms:  "Among  all  the  known  parts  of  humanity  of  present  times  not  one  • 

tribe,  not  an  individual  even,  exists  which,  zoologically  considered,  could  fairly  be  designated 
as  the  mean  between  man  and  monkey."  If  some  would  deem  a  witness  like  Virchow  more 
authoritative,  he  too,  may  be  quoted:  "Man's  existence  looms  up  at  the  beginning  of  the  qua-  tertiary'^perlod^not 
ternary  (diluvial)  period— for  his  existence  in  the  tertiary  (glacial)  is  not  yet  established,  established. 
The  oldest  skulls  extant  show  features  of  men,  who,  taking  the  lowest  estimate,  were  in  that 
stage  of  development  in  which  we  find  the  Papua  or  the  Peshara  upon  Tierra  delFuego.  But 
however  brutal  the  propensities  of  these  lowest  of  our  species,  man  is  still  man  and  never  be- 
comes an  ape"— which  according  to  the  law  of  relapse  into  the  original  type  of  a  genus  would 
have  to  be  the  case.— All  seeming  transitory  formations,  those  interesting  digressions  inside  of 
the  human  type,  are  easil.v  accounted  for  by  science.  They  are  either  individual  variations,  or 
results  of  interbreeding"  (of  "natural  selection  "). 

With  concessions  like  these  we  may  content  ourselves.  They  will  remain  in 
force  altho  the  man  of  the  glacial  or  tertiary  era  should  be  unearthed,  whereby  self- 
knowledge  would  be  neither  advanced  nor  thrown  back.  For  the  whole  argument 
proceeds  from  the  unproved  supposition  that  man  gradually  evolved  in  a  rather  sub- 
natural  than  supernatural  way  from  below;  otherwise  the  controversy  has  no  mean- 
ing. No  other  science  would  have  dared  to  jump  at  such  conclusions  from  a  basis 
of  evidence  so  meagre. 

It  is  now  denounced  as  an  act  of  scientific  violence,  if  a  few  utterly  mutilated  Rather  think  of  destinj 

than  thus  argue  about 

pieces  are  made  to  prove  such  a  portentous    assumption  as  the  transition  from  ape  the  descent  of  man. 
to  man,  in  exhibiting  his  descent. 

Upon  the  whole,  would  it  not  be  better  to  become  interested  in  the  destiny  of  man 
rather  than  thus  to  argue  upon  that  sort  of  a  "descent  of  man?" 


82 


LAKE-DWELLERS. 


n.  A.  ch.  m.  §  32. 


'Lake-Dwellers.' 


Stone— pine, 
bronze— oak, 
iron—birch, 
»ges. 


Lake-dwellers  and  the 
commercial  relations  at 
3000  B.  C.  Sec.  6( 


A  definite  chronolof^  of 
!histori( 
»levant. 


prehistoric  periods  is 
frrel 


E-  Y.  Baib  curtailing 
the  millenniums  of 
eYoluttoniati. 


Origin  in  a  place  of 
most  favorable  con- 
ditions for  evolution 
not  tenable. 


One  common  origin. 


Pure  fountain  head  of 
the  human  family. 


Changes  accounted  for. 


The  results  of  paleontological  investigations  become  more  marked  as  we  ap- 
proach the  "lake-dwellers."  It  is  known  that  the  first  discovery  of  this  kind  of  evi- 
dence was  made  in  Zuerich  in  the  spring  of  '54.  Seven  years  later  Keller  described 
the  Celtic  "pile-villages."  Shortly  after  similar  remnants  were  found  everywhere; 
the  "stone-age  had  been  hit  upon." 

Stone  weapons  and  utensils  were,  however,  found  only  in  the  deepest  layers  "kjoekken- 
moedding."  Above  them  bronze  objects,  and  in  the  last  layer  on  top  of  all  iron  tools  were 
found. 

It  was  a  little  preposterous  to  classify  all  culture  in  these  three  successive  periods ;  but 
for  central  and  northern  Europe  its  prehistoric  significance  was  clearly  shown.  The  Danish 
explorers  divided  that  age  into  pine,  oak,  and  birch  periods,  as  the  layers  seemed  thus  to  con- 
cur with  the  stone,  bronze  and  iron  discoveries.  Of  course  all  of  this  systematising  does  not 
take  away  the  difficulty  of  reconstructing  distinct  eras  of  universal  culture  with  such  spuri- 
ous material  as  the  kitchen-offal  of  the  lake  dwellers. 

The  one  fact  seems  to  be  established  by  these  discoveries  that  the  lake  dwellers 
were  emigrants  who  imported  ornamental  objects  from  Asia.  If  we  are  allowed  to 
utilise  this,  then  we  are  justified  in  asserting  that  the  mud-covered  layers  of  the 
"kitten-mittens "of  about  ten  feet  of  thickness  originated  in  Abraham's  time,  and 
that  at  that  time  already  commercial  relations  had  been  established  between  Ur  on 
the  Euphrates  and  the  markets  on  the  Thames  and  Clyde.  There  is  no  special  ethno- 
logical reason  why  we  should  desire  a  definite  era  for  the  age  of  our  race  upon  earth. 
It  is  scarcely  worth  while  to  mention  that  some  scientists,  for  some  reason  or  other, 
have  very  gratuitously  thrown  in  millennia  with  liberal  hands,  where  there  was  no 
demand  for  them.  Unwittingly  enough  they  imitated  the  childlike  naivete  of  the 
ancients  in  pretending  to  be  very,  very  old. 

When  the  durations  of  -äJgyptian  dynasties  were  to  be  ascertained,  we  had  occasion  to 
find  out  how  chronologists  blundered  in  putting  contemporaneous  reigns  into  successive  in- 
stead of  parallel  series.    We  expect  some  more  sobering  up  of  chronological  calculations. 

Taking  all  facts  together  we  will  not  be  to  blame  for  our  satisfaction  with  the 
impartial  judgment  of  E.  v.  Baer,  who  greatly  limits  the  prehistoric  age. 

§  32.  Of  far  weightier  import  than  chronological  computations  is  the  settle- 
ment of  another  question.  A  very  limited  space  of  time  is  at  our  disposal  from 
which  to  determine  the  earliest  history  of  mankind.  The  localities  first  occupied  by 
the  Oriental  nations  are  almost  unexplored  as  yet ;  so  are  the  countries  inhabited 
before  the  age  and  culture  of  the  Aztecs. 

Let  us  suppose  that  thousands  of  human  skulls  should  be  found  at  a  thousand  dif- 
ferent places  all  over  the  earth;  suppose  that  in  a  thousand  other  localities  lake- 
dwellings  should  be  discovered.  What  would  it  avail?  Would  it  follow  that  many 
periods  of  cultural  development  independent  of  each  other  must  be  fixed?  Would  it 
follow  that  they  corroborate  the  supposition,  that  the  origin  of  man  took  place 
wherever  the  most  favorable  conditions  existed,  necessary  for  a  very  gradual  evolu- 
tion of  animate  life  to  such  a  degree?  We  can  not  understand  the  necessity  of  such 
an  induction.  At  least  we  cannot  see,  that  such  a  length  of  time  and  precisely  such 
circumstances  as  the  present,  and  such  evolving  as  is  inferred,  are  found  in  the  na- 
ture of  the  case.  Nor  does  this  view  explain  a  number  of  circumstances,  as  for  in- 
stance, that  we  find  people  nearly  void  of  any  culture  just  where  the  most  favorable 
conditions  possible  would  lead  us  to  expect  the  highest  grade. 

A  much  simpler  explanation  of  the  conditions  and  circumstances  of  man's  origin 
would  be  obtained»by  inverting  the  case. 

We  would  then  propose,  for  argument's  sake,  instead  of  one  thousand  localities  of 
such  discoveries,  or  instead  of  five— one  single  fountain-head  for  the  whole  flow  of 
human  existence.  From  this  single  point  we  may,  perhaps,  be  enabled  easily  to  trace 
the  courses,  by  which  companies  of  people  started  out  into  the  rounds  of  the  earth. 
The  elements  take  their  rise  from  a  single,  clear  source,  then  flow  off  and  branch  out 
in  every  direction;  and  each  on  its  way,  we  are  at  liberty  to  think,  partakes  of  so 
much  of  the  peculiarities  of  the  soil  as  to  assume  various  tempers,  various  qualities 
and  tastes,  and  even  to  change  its  color  —all  in  accord  with  the  various  channels, 
basins  and  pools  in  which  they  run,  appearing  quite  different  from  what  each  was  at 
or  near  the  pure,  common  fountain  head.  The  problem  of  man's  origin  virtually 
stands  as  thus  indicated,  especially  with  reference  to  his  first  home.    Altho  much 


n.  A.  CH.  III.  §  33.  HUMANITY  AS  A  UNIT.  83 

disfigured  and  decried,  and  in  spite  of  all  the  learned  efforts  to  discredit  this  aspect 
of  the  problem,  it  still  stands  in  the  midst  of  all  the  search  for  the  data  of  the  unity 
of  humanity. 

The  main-land  of  "Lemuria",  situated  on  the  imaginary  line  from  Madag^ascar  to  Suma-  Place  of  origin. 
tra,  seems  to  have  once  been  invented  merely  for  the  purpose  of  substantiating  the  hypothesis, 
that  the  primitive  home  of  the  Lemuridae  (those  "ghost-like  moving"  semi-monkeys)  may  ''^e™"»"!»"  »nd  descent 
come  handy  to  be  utilised  for  the  original  home  of  man.    Hence  the  Dravida,  Papua,  and  Af- 
rican dwarfs  were  enlarged  upon  as  being  the  lowest  creatures   in  the  human  scale.    By  a 
turn  of  the  hand  the  dexterous  manipulator  then  patches  together  a  fraternity  of  Lemurs, 
gorillas  and  men.    It  need  not  be  demonstrated,  that  mental  efforts  like  these  are  nothing  but 
plays  of  fancy,  which  never  ought  to  have  been  taken  in  earnest,  and  cannot  be  ranked  with  one  central' common 
scientific  hypotheses.     This  phantasm  inadvertently  reveals  the  feeling    (and  but   for  this  *»ome  a  scientific 
reason  we  took  notice  of  it)  that  a  common  center  would  be  very  welcome,  from  which  the  va-  p***  "  * 
riety  of  species  could  be  established,  if  such  a  center  could  be  gotten    up  with  some  seien-  ^'*'  ^^"• 
tific  decorum. 

At  a  conclusion  much  like  ours  did  Waitz  arrive,  when  in  his  "Anthropology 
of  Nature-bound  Nations'*  he  speculated  on  the  generic  unity  of  all  human  races. 
He  admits  that  a  proposition  like  ours  of  one  single  fountain-head  "  presents  less  dif- 
ficulties and  has  a  greater  inner  consistency  in  its  favor,  than  the  opposite  view  of 
different  originals". 

Such  corroboration  is  not  necessary,  however.    We  only  need  to  follow  the  natu-    * 
ral  impulse  of  the  human  mind,  which  subordinates  single  facts  in  order  to  correctly 
understand  them,  to  the  concept  of  the  whole,  and  whenever  through  this  method  in- 
consistencies are  discovered,  the  mind  is  in  doubt  at  once  as  to  the  truth  of  inferen- 
tial judgments.    The  results  of  experience,  moreover,  do  not  offer  any  serious  objec-  Jo^tTcouerttoi^'**'** 
tion  to  our  premise.    We  are  confirmed  in  the  truth  that  humanity  is  an  oneness. 

§  33.  The  next  question  is  :  How  can  humanity  be  reduced  to  a  unit?  If  one 
should  answer :  from  below,  by  way  of  several  evolutions  ;  or  by  creations,  either 
successive  at  different  places,  or  simultaneous  ;  then  we  would  have  a  mere  collec- 
tion instead  of  an  organic  connection — and  this  view  would  throw  us  back  to  the 
time  before  the  guess  at  the  abode  of  the  Lemuridae  was  made.  Under  this  aspect 
an  ^Egyptian's  idea  of  an  Israelite  being  kindred  to  unclean  beasts  could  scarcely  be 
taken  as  an  insult. 

The  oneness  of  our  race,  which  humanitarianism  needs  as  its  first  postulate,  can  sprung  from  a  comnun 
not  be  maintained  unless  we  answer  :  from  above  ! 

The  unit  is  warranted  solely,  if  humanity  is  conceived  as  having  sprung  from  a 
common  source  of  a  generic  vitality,  altho  this  central  starting  point  may  have  to  be  This  proposition 
sought  for.    Until  it  is  found  we  accept  humanity  as  originally  connected  with  such  humSrunism  and 
a  center.    In  doing  this  we  have,  notwithstanding  the  various  modifications  of  hu-  Si'iSlnÄreitJf  **' 
man  nature,  that  unity  in  diversity  which  explains  them  all. 

Our  very  method  of  induction  compels  us  to  proceed  by  drawing  inferences  from  defin« 
ite  empiric  results.  Combined  correctly  they  place  before  us  the  secret  of  the  locked  synthe- 
sis. Thus  we  may  be  sure  to  have  found  the  right  key  to  the  problem  at  the  same  time,  as 
lock  and  key  ever  belong  together.  If  by  way  of  analysis  and  syllogising  we  arrive  at  the 
correct  conclusion,  then  this  conclusion  will  fit  the  keyhole.  The  lock,  which  contains  the 
simple  but  ingenious  and  hidden  lockwork  of  the  full  synthesis,  and  to  which  our  key— i.e.  the 
correct  conclusion  formed  from  the  analytical  judgments— belongs,  will  then  easily  open. 
The  conclusion  will  prove  the  right  key— that  is,  it  will  prove  whether  analysis  and  syllogism 
were  correctly  executed— if  a  slight  touch  of  the  key— 1.  e.  a  legitimate  application  of  the  con- 
clusion—will disclose  the  secret  of  the  locked  synthesis.  Whoever  has  come  to  know  the  com- 
bination, to  him  the  synthesis  proves  to  be  the  treasury  contained  in  the  safe  which  is  found 
,  when  disclosed    to  be  filled  with  wealth  and  wisdom  in  which  he  is  to  share. 

To  restate  the  relation  between  induction  and  deduction,  between  analytical  and  syn- 
thetical syllogising  in  our  philosophy  without  metaphor,  we  repeat :  All  the  analytical  data 
properly  combined  or  generalised,  either  affirm  or  disprove  the  consistency  of  arguments  and 
judgments  derived  from  the  special  findings.  Their  true  interpretation  depends  upon  render- 
ing their  proper  correlative  bearing  upon  each  other,  and  upon  the  general  conclusion  so  co-  m'^hod  ta  th/searoh  for 
gent,  that  each  judgment  explicitly  and  without  any  contradiction  yields  a  clear  understand-  THE  SYNTHESIS, 
ing  of  the  adduced  phenomena  and  incidents.    The  proof  of  their  correctness  lies  in  their  '     '      ' 

common  agreement  with  the  synthesis,  i.  e.  the  formula  and  figure  implying  the  ideality  and 
reality  of  the  facts  and  truths  under  consideration.  This  synthesis  in  turn  yields  adequate 
explanation  and  proves  the  soundness  of  the  theory. 

Unless  we  can  thus  reduce  facts  and  reasons  to  plain  unsophisticated  and  practical 
knowledge,  enabling  us  to  engage  in  making  the  experiments  and  tests,  our  final  conclusion 
is  wrong,  and  the  syllogising  needs  a  revision  along  the  whole  line  of  phenomenal  empirics 
and  logical  comprehension. 


84 


PROOFS  FOR  THE  UNITY  OF  HUMANITY. 


II.  A.  Ch.  IV.  §  34. 


Axiomatic  nnity  of  the 
human  race  is  the  con- 
clusion of  our  induction. 


To  be  proved  also  by 
deduction. 


Full  selfknowledge  is 
possible, 


Hamilton 
notwithstanding. 


As  the  legitimate  conclusion  derived  from  all  the  premises  we  posited  the  unity 
of  the  race.  The  binding  force  of  this  conclusion  awakens  the  anticipation  that  it 
will  also  serve  as  a  resolvent.  Our  conclusion  will  show  how  it  unites  the  results  of 
analysis  and  induction  into  a  round  synthesis  which  under  the  process  of  resolving 
analysis  by  way  of  <leduction  will  stand  the-  test.  In  order  to  become  assured  of  the 
unchangeable  truth  and  demonstrative  force  of  our  syllogisation  we  must  be  sure  of 
its  correct  method.  Then  our  science  stands  fortified,  and  the  truth  for  which  it 
contends  will  be  proved  both  ways.  To  say  that  such  comprehensive  knowledge  and 
convincing  exposition  of  the  subject  under  discussion  were  impossible— as  Hamilton 
might  be  understood  to  advocate  such  affected  modesty— betrays  a  desire  to  keep 
certain  phenomena  out  of  sight,  or  else  an  inclination  to  mental  inertia.  In  the 
knowledge  of  what  man  is,  all  other  knowledge  is  at  stake.  He  is  the  key  to  history. 
Hence  our  zeal  to  arrive  at  a  full  understanding  of  man,  which  amounts  to  nothing , 
more  than  true  selfknowledge.  The  disclosure  of  history  by  the  use  of  this  key,  i.  e.  the 
knowledge  of  man  unfolded,  means  nothing  less  than  the  correct  comprehension  of 
the  times  in  which  we  live.  And  such  comprehension  is  the  requisite  for  obtaining 
the  proper  world-consciousness,  and  for  the  adjustment  of  conduct  accordingly,  that 
Is,  for  future  wisdom,  for  "Applied  Ethics." 


Proofs  of  the  unity  of 

humanity. 

On  common  origin  of 

languages.    Sec.10,41,111 

After  nature  had 
reached  its  present  form 
of  development  It  con- 
'  tinues  solely  in  the 
invisible  world  of  mind- 
life. 


Language  the  divide. 
LxiBNiTZ.  Sec.  111. 


Three  groups  of  lan- 
guages for  three  r-ces. 


Refuted  by 

W.  and  A.  v.  Humboldt. 


Importance  of  philology 
upon  our  problem. 


M.  MiTKLLKH  on  softening 
of  consonants. 


flABKLXUTZ  on  phonetic 

metamorphotic  and 
and  syntactic  factors 
and  mental  common 
endowments. 


CH.  IV.    ORIGINAL  MAN.     ONE  COMMON  SOURCE  OF  LANGUAGE,  RIGHT,  RELIGION. 

§  34.  Our  method  compels  us  to  found  our  reasoning  upon  the  basis  of  assured 
empiric  results.  Aside  from  the  previous  consideration  of  the  common  origin,  we  are 
driven  to  the  same  conclusion  of  the  unity  of  the  race  by  some  other  premises  and 
postulates  which  analysis  furnishes.  For  as  soon  as  we  leave  the  field  of  paleon- 
tological  discoveries  we  meet  with  new  facts  commanding  our  attention.  The  pro- 
gressive development,  attained  when  the  present  form  of  the  earth  was  completed, 
now  continues  solely  in  the  inner  life  of  man.  All  development  is  now  transferred 
to  the  invisible  world  of  consciousness. 

It  is  not  within  the  range  of  our  disquisition  to  prove  language  to  be  the  divid- 
ing line  between  the  brute  world  and  the  human.  What  is  necessary  concerning 
this,  has  been  mentioned  in  histories.  We  now  take  language  under  the  aspect  of  its 
cardinal  importance  to  the  history  of  mankind.  Leibnitz  was  the  first  to  call  atten- 
tion to  this  importance.  It  was  thought  that  the  classification  of  all  languages  into 
isolating,  agglutinating,  and  flexible  groups  would  explain  the  different  descent  of 
the  three  races,  the  white,  the  yellow  and  the  black.  But  it  became  evident  that  the 
peculiarities  of  the  three  chief  families  of  languages  indicated  more  than  different 
degrees  of  mental  training.  A.v.  Humboldt  had  already  remarked,  that  the  grammatical 
aptitudes  for  construction  are  signs  of  certain  stages  of  culture  ratlier  than  of  kin- 
ship. Right  here  we  may  insert  what  lies  near  and  what  A.  v.  Humboldt  mentioned: 
"As  incomplete  as  (isolated)  languages  at  first  glance  seem  to  be  when  cut  off  from 
outside  influenqes,  or  as  odd  and  capricious  their  structure  may  appear,  they  have  cer- 
tain analogies  in  common,  nevertheless.  These  characteristics  will  be  seen  more 
clearly  as  philosophical  insight  and  comparative  philology  approach  perfection." 
Thus  it  was  formally  pointed  out  which  way  philological  investigation  is  directed 
and,  associated  with  competent  philosophical  scholarship,  is  bound  to  go. 

In  the  latter  part  of  our  century  Max  Mueller's  studies  of  the  isolating  languages  follow- 
ed in  this  direction  and  widely  opened  the  way  for  the  future  labor  in  the  field  of  comparative 
philology.  In  one  of  his  Cambridge  Lectures  on  the  shifting  relations  of  languages,  after  ad- 
ducing examples  of  the  softening  of  consonants,  he  emphasises  the  fact:  "In  proportion  as 
we  appreciate  such  changes  of  words  we  will  become  more  competent  to  judge,  whether  we 
shall  hereafter  have  a  greater  mass  of  testimony  for  the  common  origin  of  language." 

We  on  our  part  are  convinced  of  this  common  origin  by  force  of  the  monosyllabic  lan- 
guages from  which  the  others  evolved,  of  these  very  isolating  languages  which  only  lately 
become  known  to  us  after  they  had  attained  their  high  state  of  inflections.  Hence  we  are  of 
the  opinion  that  we  only  stand  at  the  threshold  of  this  new  field  of  exploration. 

"In  order  to  understand  language,  says  G.  v.  d.  Gabelentz,  in  all  its  wealth  of  possible 
formations,  we  must  take  into  the  scope  of  our  observation  phonetic,  metamorphologic  and 
syntactic  factors  of  all  languages,  besides  the  relation  of  each  to  the  logical  and  psychological 
requisites  of  the  mind  in  general." 

Jaquet  thinks  as  we  do,  that  "the  tendency  toward  concluding  the  unity  of  the  race  marks 
the  present  really  philosophical  method  of  ethnology."  Ratzel  ("Anthropo-geographie,  Stutt- 
gart '93.)  says:  "Every  consideration  again  and  again  returns  to  the  sapiens  homo,"  and  adds: 


n.  A.  CH.  IV.  §  34.  LANGUAGE,  RIGHT,  RELIGION.  85 

"If  we  succeed  in  proving  the  identity  of  the  American  Indians  with  the  Asiatics,  ratzkl. 
then  tlie  question  of  the  unity  or  diversity  of  humanity  is  solved  in  favor  of  unity." 

This  is  now  well  nigh  accomplished.  identity  of  American 

®  ^  Indians  with  Asiatics. 

With  reference  to  the  requisites  of  the  mind  which  Gabelentz  alluded  to,    Hein  lately 
spoke    (in   Vienna    '91)   about  ''Mseander  crosses."       Senf,   in  his  review  of  the  discourse,  Heik  and  Senp,  on^^ 
aeknowledg'es  their  concurrence  in  all  nations  as  shown  for  instance  in  the  sun-sig'ns  and       ^^^  ^^  crosses. 
especially  in  the  symbols  of  "life-giving,"— the  Ankh  in  Rawlinson's  -älgypt,— and  he  concludes:  "Ankh"  of  Rawunsok. 
"The  sameness  of  symbolism  in  all  those  nations  of  earliest  culture  is  founded  in  the  unity  Sense  of  symmetry: 
of  the  human  race".    We  add  that  their  common  sense  of  symmetry  points  the  same  way.  Common  mental 
From  the  fact  that  the  same  mode  of  forming  new  words  by  prefixes,  suffixes  and  affixes  ap-  ?"*  «wments 
pears  in  all  groups  of  languages,  Prof.  Fisk  reasons,  that  such  lingual  idiomacy  points  to  an  "  ^"^  ^  °" 

essential  oneness  of  the  original  language  which  is  not  explained  by  the  mere  participation  of  fuffl^esflffl^es.' 
all  men  in  the  common  mental  endowments. 

It  concerns  us  to  comprehend  the  various  expressions  of  the  one  faculty  of  speech,  comprehension  of 
This  will  not  be  possible  before  all  the  typical  and  most  important  languages  have  the'»««  STy  Speech 
been  fully  indexed  or  "invoiced"  as  it  were,  and  grammatically  compared.    Then  only  chiefllnlürges' are 
may  we  fix  to  a  certainty  that  unitary  original  language  into  which  the  nine  hun-  ''"^^*^'* 
dred  languages  enumerated  by  M.  Mueller  seem  to  be  reducible.    But  here  as  every- 
where formative  thought  is  swifter  than  the  analytical  treatment  of  the  necessary 
material.    Thought  runs  ahead  of  a  piece-meal  collection  of  the  material  to  be  inves- 
tigated. With  the  certitude  which  from  the  sum  of  two  ascertained  angles  determines 
the  adjacent  third,  do  we  from  the  ascertained  empirical  data  anticipate  a  common  fan*i^^*e!°°  °*  °^c.  22». 
and  central  source  of  languages. 

It  has  been  stated  that  the  "rediscovery  of  Sanskrit  had  a  resuscitating  effect."  As 
one  electric  discharge  may  isolate,  combine  or  crystalise  a  chemical  composition,  so 
did  the  knowledge  of  Sanskrit  bind  its  twenty-nine  derivative  languages  together. 
Sanskrit  became  the  center  of  affinity  and  the  standard  for  systematising  the  mean, 
ing  of  roots;  and  was  the  thread  which  led  out  of  the  labyrinth. 

With  the  deciphering  of  Sanskrit  that  composite  synthesis  was  completed  to  which  many 
antecedent  facts  had  pointed  as  upon  the  binding  key-stone.  Because  of  thi  s  fact  we  feel  jus- 
tified to  syllogise  still  further  and  to  postulate  that  central  mean  of  communication  upon 
which  the  understanding  of  the  chorus  of  lingual  expressions  depends.  We  anticipate  a  re- 
union meeting  at  a  common  source  in  which  all  misunderstandings  and  harsh  dissonances 
shall  be  solved.  We  expect  to  hear  some  day,  how  all  the  discordant  tones  shall  unite  into  a 
final  harmonious  accord.  Then  all  the  differentiations  shall  be  reduced  to  the  seven  notes  of 
the  scale  and  the  few  letters  of  the  alphabet,  as  it  were,  that  is,  to  the  simplified  unity  of  the 
spiritual  mode  of  converse.  As  from  the  composite  thought  of  the  synthesis  we  can  interpret 
the  particulars,  so  all  languages  receive  their  due  significance  as  units  of  the  lingual  oneness, 
altho  the  latter  is  concealed  as  yet.  M.  Mueller  somewhere  dates  the  birth  of  the  true  idea  of  m.  Muklu»  on  Pentecost. 
humanism  together  with  the  birth  of  philosophy  as  a  science  from  Pentecost,  where  the  rup- 
tures began  to  heal,  which  the  confusion  of  tongues  had  occasioned. 

Since  that  time  comparative  philology,  largely  assisted  by  the  Missionaries  whose 
zeal  was  ridiculed  only  a  hundred  years  ago,  and  along  with  missionary  activity  in  SFvi^yupÄeSy 
general,  made  such  strides,  that  Klaproth  can  now  declare:  "universal  kinship  of  Kii^S^^'      sec.12. 
languages  is  set  in  such  clear  light  that  we  are  compelled  to  accept  their  common 
source  as  an  approved  axiom." 

The  feeling  of  right  is,  no  less  than  language,  the  common  possession  of  all  men,  universality  of  the 
and  a  witness  for  our  right  to  take  humanity  as  a  oneness,  notwithstanding  the  fact  right""  ° 
that  justice  in  the  concrete  nowhere  exists  ;  at  least  nowhere  does  it  appear  as  a  witnessing  the  unity  of 
unitary  whole.    Like  language  and  unlike  mathematics,  justice  never  could  embody  ^''°'^'*^ 
itself  so  as  to  stand  above  the  liability  to  err.    Altho  the  idea  of  right  has  assumed 
the  shape  of  a  "  practice  ",  and  realises  itself  everywhere  in  tangible  and  very  em- 
piric forms,  yet  it  is  not  found  anywhere,  not  even  in  an  abstract  form,  as  of  world- 
wide and  equally  recognised  authority.    Forms  of  speech  and  tribunals  of  justice 
have  both  grown  and  become  differentiated  to  a  nicety  in  organisms  of  tribes,  castes 
and  states  and  in  the  midst  of  emerging  and  submerging  events. 

Right  in  the  concrete  exists  nowhere  on  earth,  yet  it  is  present  in  the  most  di- 
verse and  modified  constructions  of  the  law  everywhere  as  the  same  definite  reality,  universality  of 

Religion  will  be  found  of  equal  weight  with  language  and  justice  upon  the  fpfalf fe^umanity as 
problem  of  the  unity  of  our  race.    We  are  not  intent  upon  establishing  a  dogma  as  *  unitary  whole. 
to  the  origin  of  religion,  tho  M.  Mueller  once  thought  he  had  a  call  to  do  something  m.mtteujib  on  its  origin. 
in  that  direction.    It  behooves  history  simply  to  reckon  with  the  fact  of  its  existence 


GENESIS  OF  RELIGION. 


n.  A.  Ch.  IV.  §  34. 


Refutations  of  a  few 
errors  as  to  its  origin. 


Hkkman  on  childlikeness 
AS  origin  of  religiousness. 


Phantasy  never  sur- 
passes tlie  compass  of 
perception.  Sec.  15 


Want  does  not  create 
consciousness  of  the 
divine. 


Reminiscence  of  the 
Ck)od. 


Prayer  in  earnest. 

Religion  not  the  product 
of  want,  ignorance,  fear 
or  selfishness. 

Selfmade  religions. 

"Dog-philosophy"  in 
"Hypatia"  of  Kikoslet. 
Sec.  95. 


Religion  the  funda- 
mental basis  of  every 
culture  and  our  own 
civilisation. 

Sec.  43,  54,  56,  58,  59, 
71,  78,  95. 


According  to  all  indications  every  detail  in  the  life  of  the  ancients  was  bound  up 
in  religion  no  less  than  parts  of  the  life  of  modern  nations.  To  explain  its  origin 
in  this  connection  is  only  possible  by  venturing  upon  the  way  of  hypothetical  rea= 
soning.  Should  we  enter  into  the  merits  of  the  problem  we  would  soon  become  con- 
vinced of  the  insufficiency  of  a  theory  which  lets  religion  evolve  from  a  defective 
intellect  and  from  natural  wants  or  fears,  for  the  gratification  or  pacification  of 
which  "  primitive  "  man  should  have  conjectured  higher  beings  or  projected  them 
from  his  own  self.  It  is  repeated  (as  if  mere  repetition  were  needed  to  strengthen 
the  assertion)  that  man  created  the  deity  in  the  abstract  out  of  his  concrete  gods, 
as  if  this  were  a  matter  too  well  settled  and  too  antiquated  as  to  go  to  the  bottom 
of  it.  The  matter  was  represented  in  such  a  manner,  as  that  man  thus  overreached 
himself,  outwitted  himself,  dreamt  of  a  world  of  poetry  and  phantasy,  and,  if  he  did 
not  lose  himself  in  more  abject  superstition,  gradually  transferred  the  concept  of  his 
multiplying  relations  from  the  sensuous  into  the  supernatural  sphere.  This  is  easily 
said  and  may  all  sound  very  rational.  But  a  religion  grown  or  built  up  in  that  way 
must  be  a  frail  thing,  and  would  surely  have  disappeared  entirely  as  soon  as  people 
had  outgrown  their  childish  notions  ;  it  would  have  vanished  with  the  very  stage  of 
culture  which  produced  it. 

It  is  rather  questionable,  moreover,  whether  childlikeness,  if  it  ever  existed  in 
the  quality  required  by  the  argument,  would  have  created  gods.  Heman  is  right 
when  he  says  :  "  Childlike  it  is  of  the  negroes  to  shoot  arrows  against  the  eclipsed 
sun.  But  they  do  this  not  in  order  to  please  any  higher  powers,  but  to  drive  ofiE  the 
snake  which,  according  to  their  phantasy,  is  trying  to  devour  the  sun".  This,  rather, 
is  childlike. 

To  call  upon  the  artist  phantasy  for  assistance  in  explaining  the  origin  of  re- 
ligion would  be  of  little  avail.  Imagination  can  put  together  only  such  things  of 
which  it  knows  something  beforehand.  Imagination  never  surpasses  the  compass  of 
perception.  This  goes  no  further  than  the  visible  world  from  which  alone  phantasy 
can  draw  the  material  for  the  patterns  it  weaves  into  its  projections. 

To  aver  that  destitution  was  the  cause  of  creating  gods,  would  sadly  reverse  mat- 
ters. The  effect  would  be  taken  as  the  cause.  Absence  of  resources  of  itself  does 
not  lead  to  any  consciousness  of  the  divine.  On  the  contrary,  it  is  simply  the  remin- 
iscence of  plenty  which  connects  the  idea  of  the  Good  with  the  giver,  hence  the 
thought  of  the  Good  must  have  preceded  the  need.  Destitution  does  not  create  con- 
sciousness and  what  is  contained  therein.  Thirst  in  itself  does  not  create  the  fata 
morgana.  But  because  a  deity  is  present  to  consciousness,  it  is  the  most  natural 
thing  to  take  refuge  there. 

Indigence      teaches  to  call  for  help,  that  is,  to  pray. 

If  the  Roman  soldier  was  in  extreme  distress  he  would  forget  the  command  to 
pray  with  face  turned  Rome-ward,  but  involuntarily  would  wring  his  hands  above 
his  head. 

No.  Religion  is  not  the  product  of  ignorance,  fear,  want  or  selfishness.  This 
phenomenon  so  unique  and  universal,  which  alone  escapes  the  "dog-philosophy"  of 
old  which  Kingsley  pictured  in  "Hypatia";  this  grandest  of  all  ideas,  confounding 
natural  explanation,  cannot  be  made  to  depend  upon  childishness  in  any  respect; 
nor  upon  imaginary  or  perhaps  peevish  and  capricious  desires;  nor  upon  the  inability 
to  endure  the  calamities  of  life  in  silent  grief.  The  ideal  of  "pure  reason"  can  not 
be  a  selfmade  collective  conception;  the  idea  of  that  which  is  necessary  can  not  be 
reasoned  out  of  a  heap  of  negatives,  or  of  fatal  accidents  and  circumstances;  neither 
can  it  be  reasoned  away.  What  breaks  forth  from  the  depths  of  the  human  mind 
everywhere  and  irresistibly  must  rest  in  the  mind  as  its  most  indestructible 
element. 

This  being  a  fundamental  fact,  let  us  be  induced  to  exercise  some  such  profound  think- 
ing wherein  the  Germans  delight,  in  keeping  with  their  habit  "den  Dingen  auf  den  Grund  zu 
sehen,"  altho  some  of  them  find  as  many  religions  at  the  bottom  as  they  put  in  themselves. 
The  subject  deserves  a  thorough  consideration— for  tlie  religious  thought  has  ever  been  the 
most  powerful  undercurrent  in  the  stream  of  history,  the  chief  factor  in  every  culture,  and 
the  cardinal  principle  of  our  own  civilisation.  Let  us  try,  as  we  have  done  in  other  instances, 
to  work  up  the  problem  by  reversing  the  customary  mode  of  its  treatment. 


n.  A.  Ch.  IV.  §  35.  GOD-CONSCIOUSNESS— CONSCIENCE.  87 

§  35.  Let  us  modestly  state  the  first  premise  of  our  disquisition  in  the  form  of  Hypothetical 
the  hypothesis  that— God  is.  God^is?' 

If  so,  He  planted  at  the  creation  a  consciousness  of  Himself  into  the  human  "'  ^®*''   ^^' 

creature— and  not  only  into  the  small  part  of  the  intellect.    This  imparted  thought  of 
God  reveals  itself  in  the  expectation  of  the  creature  to  receive  something  from  its 
Creator,  and  in  feeling  itself  drawn  to  Him  in  all  circumstances,  so  as  to  open  itself 
for  Him  and  to  remain  susceptible  of  Him.    The  Creator  sees  in  this  human  creature  Kge^ '°  °""^*^  *"^ 
the  reflection  of  His  own  image,  and  man,  the  creature,  feels  that  he  is  thought  of  and  ^*®' "®'  "*'  *^*- 

looked  upon.    All  this,  at  the  least,  is  understood  by  the  term  God-consciousness.  S^rm^T^posiSl*'"'^  ° 
Thus  the  "Idea  of  God,"  as  the  creature  circumscribes  its  concept  of  the  thought-rep-  thought  being 
resentation  of  Him,  is  the  ingrained  part  of  man's  potential  consciousness,  framed  of  the  ontogeneity  of 
into  the  mind  at  that  center  where  all  its  relations  are  focused.    It  is  man's  most 
direct  recollection  and  reminder,  because  it  is  his  innermost  and  most  essential  capa- 
bility of  intimate  converse  and  communion  with  the  Creator.    If  in  some  way  the 
development  of  this  consciousness  becomes  disturbed  or  arrested,  the  "Name  of  God" 
is  forgotten.    Under  this  estrangement  the  thought  of  Him  becomes  the  opposite  of 
intimate.      But  tho  the  distinct  feeling  of  God's  friendship  recedes  and  becomes 
obtuse  and  indescribable,  yet  a  reminiscence  of  former  beatitude  is  felt  to  assert  Founded  on 

empirics. 

itself.  It  reappears  to  awaken  man's  consciousness,  because  it  remains  the  insoluble 
ingredient  of  his  being.  God— by  way  of  this  lasting  endowment  implanted  into  the 
frame  of  the  mind  in  its  entirety  and  not  only,  we  emphasise  it,  into  the  small  intel-  meÄteutct.""'**^'**' 
lectual  spot— ever  keeps  in  touch  with  man;  and  at  every  manifestation  of  this  fact 
which  often  seems  to  occur  in  a  very  indirect  manner,  the  consciousness  of  this  fact 
becomes  vividly  revived.  This  is  all  very  empiric.  The  human  mind  is  ever  ready 
to  meet  the  thought  of  God,  and  even  to  seek  Him.  It  possesses  within  itself  an  in- 
stinctive, almost  determining  presentiment  of  bfeing  created  for  the  sake  of  that 
thought. 

To  be  sure,  this  feeling,  this  "voice  so  weak  and  still"  within  us,  seems  to  be  caused  by  ex- 
ternal impressions.    Even  the  internal  impulses  seem  to  come  from  without,  often  in  spite  of  ingsTot^an  miFgrovrth 
our  attempts  to  avoid  them,  and  against  man's  natural  will.    This  feeling  of  the  divine  touch  P/^  "entrffu^al  tendenc^ 
announces  itself  as  distinctly  separate  from,  altho  along  with,  or  before,  or  after  those  other  (§  H)  in  man. 
impressions  and  sensations  which  the  environments  call  forth  in  the  mind.    Usually  it  is  felt  God  keeps  on 
just  because  of  its  conflict  with  the  world  and  self  consciousness.  It  wants  to  tell  us  that  God  is  "sp^^^ing  terms"  with 
still  on  speaking  terms  with  man.    This  feeling  intercedes  in  this  manner,  because  of  our  liv- 
ing in  a  world  with  which  we  are  so  intrinsically  connected,  as  tho  we  were  entirely  bound  up 
with  it.    The  mind  indeed  would  be  suffocated  in  the  coils  of  worldliness,  if  it  were  not  for  this 
gift,  through  which  it  remains  in  immediate  connection  with  its  purely  spiritual  sphere.    It  «    ,        ^    . 
awakens  one  in  such  manner,  because  thereby  alone  man  begins  to  emancipate  himself  from  sense* of^moral  duty,  to 
this  mere  natural  intricacy  to  become  a  real  selfconscious  ego.    Altho  we  find  ourselves  as  if  n™tu°''*^**'*"*  *'"'" 
lost,  at  the  moment  when  the  touch  from  above  on  the  one  side,  and  the  contact  with  the  di- 
verting world  on  the  other,  sets  our  faculties  free  one  after  and  with  the  other :  yet  only  thus 
do  we  learn  by  degrees  to  adjust  ourselves  to  obligations,  to  cause  other  conditions  and  cir- 
cumstances, and  try  to  control  them.    We  then  and  thus  feel  ourselves  as  subjects,  and  it  gen- 
erally takes  some  time  until  many  of  us  can  understand  ourselves  as  being  subject-objects.  * 
And  even  then  we  have  not  learned  to  know  ourselves  thoroughly,  because  we  can  not  under- 
stand the  single  object  apart  from  the  sum  of  its  relations  to  the  whole.    We  have  to  learn  for  SSurbutÄhe 
instance,  that  conscience,  i.  e.  the  knowledge  that  we  are  known,  is  not '  the"  religious,  but  in  fir«*  pi^ce,  the  moral 
the  first  place'the  moral  sense,  since  it  forbids  man  to  retire  to  a  private  orbit  of  his  own  from  ^  ^®  ° 
his  duties  to  nature  and  fellow-men.    We  cannot  come  to  a  clear  definition  of  what  conscience 
is,  unless  we  see  that  it  is  not  congruous  with  the  religious  sense,  but  that  both  must  discrimi- 
nately  be  kept  asunder  in  our  reflection    as  long  as  God  -  and  world-consciousness  are  not 
ethically  harmonised  and  consummated  within  us. 

Morally  we  really  and  solely  find  ourselves,  if,  under  the  process  of  emancipation 
from  natural  necessity,  we  "come  to"  again  from  the  moral  stun  of  the  fall.    Religi-  ReTigioul*c'S*ve?sion. 
ously  we  find  ourselves  in  higher  connections  and  sacred  relations,  if  we  recognise 
the  "image"  within  us,  altho  with  sorrow  for  its  being  so  distorted.     The  recognition 
must  once  have  been  a  cognition.    This  finding,  now  the  result  and  goal  of  a  retro-  J/iKmageT^"""* 
spective  way  of  reflecting— a  re-ligere,  as  the  Romans  inadvertently  coined  the  word  ^  ^'  ^'  ^"'  ^^'  ^^'  "^'  ^^^ 
for  us,— is  a  re-collection.  This  is  awakened  by  the  very  same  incitements  from  with- 
out, from  the  sphere  in  which  consciousness  had  diverted  and  scattered  its  thoughts,  sewknowiedge  possible 
In  this  mood  the  mind  remembers  its  relations,  that  is,  reconstructs  them  into  a  state  "f  ÄfaÄs  to'ihe*** 
of  unity  and  permanency.    Under  reminding  conditions  the  attention  returns  to  and  one. 
gathers  around  the  central  starting  point.    The  mind  gets  to  be  converted.    Such  is 
the  origin,  the  sum  and  substance  of  incipient  religion  under  our  supposition. 


88 


BELIGION— EVOLVED  OR  REVEALED? 


n.  A.  Ch.  IV.  §  35. 


Whilst  revealed 
religion  starts  from  a 
central  source  the 
other  starts  from  the 
circumference. 


DifFerence  between 

evolved  or  natural  and 
given  religion. 


Pacts  defying 

naturalistic 

explanation. 

g40,  58,  110,  112,  302, 
212. 


Self  made  religion  reveals 
but  aversion  to 

the  one  thing 
necessary. 


False  premises  of  the 
religion  of  evolutionism, 
and  its  lack  of  results. 


Religion  made  a  means 
for  certain  irreligious 
purposes. 


True  religious  organisa- 
tion above  an  unbinding 
social  contract. 


It  conveys  the  purpose 
in  itself  for  certain 
ends. 

Religion  to  make  its 
way  through  history  up- 
on the  principle  of 
independence  f  ronj 
natural  development 


In  the  direction  of  con- 
centric intensification. 


Humanity 

an  ethnical  organism,  a 

connection  not 
collection. 

Postulate  of  one 
typical  person  as 
the  center  of 
human  unity. 


Illustration : 

Key-Stone  bear- 
ing all  the  strain 
of  the 
cross-arch. 


We  found  the  essence  of  all  religion  in  the  tendency  of  man's  consciousness 
toward  the  central  starting  point,  the  reunion  with  God.  We  only  reversed  the  order 
of  that  theory  which  starts  from  the  circumference  into  which  the  ego,— after  detach- 
ing itself  from  the  center  and  after  having  become  eccentric  in  its  natural  inclina- 
tions,—had  scattered  its  thoughts  and  desires. 

The  course  by  which  man  is  conducted  from  the  uncouth  circumference  of  Fet- 
ishism up  to  the  mental  postulate  of  Monism,  and  further  up  to  the  consciousness  of 
Monotheism,  leads  into  the  most  perplexing  difficulties.  Wherever  this  method  is 
used,  it  seems  to  be  done  for  the  purpose  of  ignoring  some  inconvenient,  yea  annoy- 
ing empirical  facts  which  defy  explanation  by  any  natural  process.  That  method  of 
demonstrating  the  origin  of  religion  from  frenzy  and  fetishism  explains  nothing 
but  a  greater,  because  more  conscious,  estrangement  from  the  Creator  ;  reveals  noth- 
ing but  aggravated  guilt  of  selfincurred,  selfcontracted  incapacity  to  obtain  self- 
knowledge  ;  and  a  more  contemptible  moral  dissipation,  if  not  willful  aversion  to 
the  one  thing  necessary— the  Supreme  Good.  The  perversion  of  the  true  relation  of 
God  to  man  by  way  of  a  selfconstituted  religion  gets  entangled  into  insolvable  diffi- 
culties. 

Theoretically  such  a  course  can  only  be  chosen  under  a  onesided  conception  and  false 
definition  of  "personality"  or  from  its  denial.  If  a  person  is  taken  for  a  mere  blank  of  an 
ego,  the  latter  route  may  be  taken.  If  this  blank  is  filling^  out  according  to  the  spontaneity 
by  which  physical  development  evolves,  and  by  which  the  inner  life  of  man  is  imagined  to  be- 
come mind  by  way  of  secretion,  reflex  nerve  action  and  the  like,  passing  from  the  lower 
sphere  of  pictorial  thinking  to  the  higher  of  associated  ideas  and  purged  conceptions,  going 
on  in  reason  alone  and  ignoring  the  feeling  of  qualitative  value :  then  the  way  may  be  passa- 
ble, but  not  without  denying  the  ultimate  purpose  of  all  that.  The  "telos"  must  be  either  ig- 
nored or  denied  before  religion  can  be  said  to  originate  like  any  other  natural  product,  to  be 
used  for  certain  purposes  like  other  products— nobody  knowing  where  it  will  end  or  how. 
Then  religion  is  levelled  indeed  to  that  kind  of  misconstrued  evolution  which  works  itself  out 
of  the  food  furnished  by  climate  and  the  soil. 

If  on  the  contrary,  mind  is  conceived  as  a  wealth  of  originally  innate  and  latent 
potentialities,  then  the  opposite  direction  is  indicated.  We  then  arrive  not  at  a  re^ 
ligion  from  below,  issuing  from  the  diversity  of  radii  which  originate  upon  the  per- 
iphery and  converge  toward  a  center  ;  not  at  a  religion  derived  from  atoms,  mythical 
nomads  and  erratic  parts  ;  not  at  a  religion  growing  up  wild  and  haphazard  in  ordei 
to  become  a  socially  stipulated  but  unbinding  contract.  But  we  come  to  *•  the"  re- 
ligion from  above,  from  that  central  source  which  is  above  arbitrariness  and  not  sub- 
mitted to  human  sanction.  It  lies  there,  where  mind  and  God-consciousness  are 
simply  given.  They  are  given  for  the  purpose  of  a  more  or  less  free,  ethical  selfde- 
velopment ;  that  is,  given  in  order  to  make  its  way  through  history  aside  from  and 
independent  of  natural  necessity.  True  religion  is  protected  against  being  rendered 
subject  to  either  arbitrary  inventiveness  or  physical  growth  and  decline. 

For  this  reason  we  reversed,  by  way  of  a  new  departure,  the  method  of  treating  this 
subject  (end  of  §  13)  and  did  not  begin  our  explanation  of  religion  on  the  periphery.  Every 
attempt  at  reducing  religion  to  eccentricities  must  raise  the  suspicion  of  being  an  abortive 
effort  to  explain  its  purpose  away.  Hence  our  starting  point  is  the  center  of  unity,  and  our 
procedure  of  demonstrating  its  true  import  passes  on  in  the  direction  of  concentric  intensifi- 
cation. The  English,  or  rather  Latin  prefix,  re,  the  same  as  er  in  German,  in  such  words  as 
re-ligion,  re-minding,  re-cognition,  re-collection,  re-velation,  re-generation,  re-demption,  is 
thus  reduced  to  its  intelligible  meaning  and  to  the  religious  bearing  upon  the  inner  life. 

We  set  out  from  the  proposition,  implying  all  which  we  thus  far  wanted  to  dem- 
onstrate, that  humanity  is  not  a  collection.  Considering  all  its  connections  we  take 
it  as  a  unity,  as  an  ethical  organism,  as  a  oneness  ("  Einheit"). 

Forms  of  speech,  of  laws  and  religion  lie  dispersed  throughout  the  length  and 
breadth  of  the  earth  like  broken  relics.  In  their  dismembered  condition  they  are  in- 
explicable. 

The  problem  which  they  present  to  us  may  be  illustrated  by  the  construction  of  a  cross- 
vault,  a  double  arch.  The  hewn  stones  lying  around  on  the  ground  are  known  to  the  archi- 
tect alone  who  values  them  on  account  of  the  purpose  they  are  to  serve,  with  regard  to  their 
destiny  which  he  has  in  mind.  He  determined  their  different  angles  according  to  his  plan  of 
the  building  for  which  they  are  intended,  and  in  which  they  are  to  occupy  unostentatious  but 
very  important  positions.  Our  understanding  of  their  shai^es  clears  up  as  soon  as  we  see 
them  joined  in  their  order,  resting  upon  the  centering  frame  as  the  arch  is  sprung  from  both 
sides.    The  entire  structure,  however,  the  significance  of  all  the  converging  angles  is  not  fully 


iL  A.  CH.  V.  §  36.         PROTOTYPE  OF  HUMANITY.  89 

appreciated  until  the  keystone  is  inserted.    This  gives  the  equipoise  to  the  whole  by  taking  p  ,»  •     tt, 

upon  itself  all  the  strain,  so  thijt  the  bearing  tension  of  the  whole  is  bound  up  in  it.    Then  the  each  part  in  its  relation 

parts  as  one  whole  depend  upon  and  lean  against  it.    The  whole  is  rendered  selfsupporting  *°  *'*®  whole. 

since  the  keystone  carries  all,  explains  the  intent  of  the  builder,  explains  the  import  of  the 

cross-arch  to  the  building  and  the  value  of  each  single  stone. 

Oppert  needed  such  a  binding  insertion  in  order  to  demonstrate  the  existence  of  a  primi-  Turarüan  Tanguages. 
tive  Turanian  stock.     He  had  studied  the  Mongolians,  the  Finns,  Tatars,  Turks,  and  Hungari- 
ans in  all  their  bearings  upon  his  science.    The  essential  characteristics  common  to  them  all, 
underlying  all  their  differences,  were  pronounced  enough,  still  the  cause  of  their  similtude  LienUflc  r?ght*o/the 
seemed  inexplicable.    They  severally  presented  many  definite  circumstances,  each  demanding  postuhite  of  the 
special  explanation.  This  could  not  be  made  by  supposing  a  probable  analogous  development  humanity 
going  on  contemporaneously  in  different  localities.       Nothing  would  answer  but  the  sup- 
position of  an  original  primitive  stock  of  Turanians.       Original   unity  became  more  than 
hypothetical,  it  became  a  demand,  an  absolute  postulate. 

In  this  very  manner  do  we  insist  upon  the  scientific  demand  of  the  unity  of  the  q^^  j,. ^.^^  ^^^ 
human  family.  We  take  it  for  granted,  that  with  a  first  man  as  a  proto-type  there  is  the  proto-type! 
given  such  an  original  unit  of  central  potentiality  as  represents  the  nucleus  of  true  lös.'uV,  120,232'. 

humanism  and  affords  equilibrium  to  all  the  strains  under  which  our  race  writhes.  If 
mankind  is  not  only  a  whole,  constituted  of  agglomerated  parts,  not  a  mere  mechani- 
cal collection  but  an  ethical  connection  and  interrelated  unity,  then  the  mind  is  con- 
strained to  find  the  center  of  tension  which  "bears  the  strain  of  the  polarity  between 
the  two  worlds,  even  if  it  is  to  be  looked  for  in  depths  far  beyond  the  efforts  of  delib- 
erating reason.    This  center,  or  fountain-head,  or  proto-type  must  be  the  starting 
point  as  well  as  the  final  focus  of  all  the  indicative  rays  which  in  direct  lines  not  only 
radiate  through  the  spheres,  but  also  penetrate  the  spheroids  of  natural  and  spiritual  He  is  to  be  what  the 
life  in  all  directions.    This  center  must  be  what  we  demanded  when  speaking  of  the  mS'^'^"*^^'''" 
key  and  knowledge  of  the  secret  to  unlock  the  combination;  it  must  be  what  the  key-  and  the  keystone  in  the 
stone  is  to  the  cross-vault.    The  formula  pressing  this  axiomatic  problem  is:  Homo-  ^'°'*;^^"" 

^  '=>  ^  Conclusion  from  induc- 

geneity  in  the  concrete,  that  is,  the  organic  unity  of  the  human  race,  must  lie  in  a  *'°'*  ***  ^«  p'^»^«*^- 
first  man. 

CH.  V.    A  FIRST  MAN.     THE  HIEROGLYPH  OF  HISTORY. 

§  36.    By  correct  analysis,  we  trust,  based  upon,  and  guided  by,  historic  facts,  we  Humanit 
have  ascended  to  our  conclusion.    The  facts  became  propositions  from  which,  bv  the  *  »""ness, 
necessity  of  logic,  we  had  to  start  in  search  of  the  composite  synthesis,  and  to  carry  its  proto-type, 
on  our  disjunctive  and  conditional  syllogising. 

After  extending  the  lines  of  thought  consistent  with  the  data,  in  the  direction  to 
which  the  proper  inferences  pointed,  and  where  the  lines  converged,  we  came  to  the   .   .. 

.,.,,,  „  =>'  "^    standing  out  from 

conclusion  that  the  human  race  forms  a  oneness.    And  as  the  result  of  combined  ^eiestiai  spheres  in 

.  ,  .     .        J      ,         r.  ,   .    ■.  v^vt    contrast  to  the  realm 

syllogisms,  we  anticipated  a  figure  which  alone  can  save  us  from  the  dilemma,  we  J^^'®  "^*"''*^  necessity 

,  »         ^    holds  sway, 

posited  the  postulate  of  a  primary  representative  person. 

If  our  conclusion  can  be  substantiated,  it  promises  to  prove  humanity  a  unity 
and  to  render  its  doings  an  intelligible  fabric.    The  figure  will  represent  that  compre- 
hensive whole,  which  will  answer  all  the  requirements  demanded  for  the  explanation 
and  interpretation  of  history.    For  only  when  taken  as  a  whole  does  "human  nature" 
stand  out  prominent  and  lucid  from  the  background  where  the  mere  natural  forces  dLo*uti^n  fs^evJr**' 
hold  their  sway,  and  where,  in  contrast  to  the  realm  of   light,  love  and  freedom,  the  ™^'"  ^' 
tendency  toward  diversity  and  dissolution  is  ever  manifest.    In  no  other  way  is  it       . 
possible  to  understand  humanity,  and  to  make  it  the  object  of  an  ingeniously  pro-  tiÄife problem's; 
jected  and  intentionally  perpetuated  history.    Here  man  is  mirrored  so  that  he  can  two  wÄ'*'^^^'' *^^ 
observe  his  own  life  as  truly  reflected.    In  no  other  way  is  it  possible  to  studv  historv  Necessity  and  feasibility 

.  iTj.  XI  1  ....,,,,  ,,  •'of  one  first  man. 

to  any  real  advantage,  than  by  conceiving  in  it  that  grand  web  to  which  history  has  §  10, 12, 13,  is. 

been  so  fitly  compared,  in  which  necessity  forms  the  warp  and  freedom  the  woof.  iatu^re  S^enceVi  a 

perfect  right  to 


For  a  successful  pursuance  of  this  study  the  original  man  is  postulated.    He  Suiate' 
bears  within  him  the  theme  of  the  opera  and  carries  through  the  fundamental  note,  protolSSm 
the  motif  of  the  grand  fugue.      He  is  the  keystone  in  the  arch  of  the  bridge  connect-  §  26, 52. 

ing  both  the  worlds  to  which  he  belongs.    The  solution  of  the  problems  of  history  and 
human  life  can  lie  only  in  one  person.    For  only  oneness  can  be  organic,  can  be  an  m  the  interest  of 
idea,  can  furnish  the  systematic  knowledge  of  the  organism  of  history.  That  organism  oSeffit  man' °' 
needs  but  the  typical  germ  from  which  to  sprout,  and  into  which,  analogous  to  plant-  jfoHn  unsctentit!*' 
life,  to  concentrate  again  in  order  to  bloom,  to  bear  fruit  and  seed.    History  needs  demand'^^l'il^iWie. 


90 


The  one  man  requisite, 
how  to  be  conceived. 


Symbol  of  the 
hypothesis  at  the 
entrance  of  each 
nation '»history. 


Tama  In  Rig-veda; 
in  Chinese  etc., 


and  German  myths 
Gkuui. 


First  man's'spiritual 
nature : 

the  microcosm  1 
of  the  invisible 
world 


into  which  man  reaches. 


Dim  light  in  the 
treasury-vault: 

F0BTLA«B. 


THE  FIGURE  OF  FIRST  MAN  IN  MYTHOLOGIES.  11.  A.  CH.  V.  §  37. 

only  this  one  man,  in  order  to  become  intelligible  throughout  just  as  science  needs 
but  one  protoplasm  which  potentially  comprises  the  whole  fabric  of  development 
rooted  therein. 

Scientists  have  always  been  very  willing  to  derive  the  whole  living  world— not  excepting 
a  single  thing,  because  that  would  have  opened  the  door  for  a  miracle — from  a  single  primary 
protoplasm,  Why,  then,  with  so  flagrant  prejudice  and  a  very  suspicious  aversion  do  they 
persistently  rebuke  the  much  nearer  proposition  of  one  first  man  for  explaining  language, 
history,  etc.  ?  But  such  are  the  inconsistencies  of  human  nature,  materialistically  speaking, 
that  one  denies  privileges  to  others,  which  he  claims  for  himself.  Or  may  it  be  an  inconsist- 
ency like  that  according  to  which  the  motion  of  brain  matter  within  my  skull  has  brought 
about  the  conviction  that  materialism  is  a  poor  subterfuge  for  a  certain  simulation  of  willful 
ignorance?  It  is  at  this  point  that  the  difficulty  of  the  matter  lies.  But  discrepancies  of  this 
sort  need  be  cleared  up  with  tender  care. 

The  question  brought  up  in  the  first  book  of  this  Philosophy,  must  now  be  faced 
viz:  How  shall  we  conceive  the  all-sufiicient,  all-embracing,  all-explaining  mind, 
which  so  delineates  this  real  first  man  as  to  be  easily  understood  by  all. 

In  the  countries  of  the  rising  as  in  those  of  the  setting  sun,  history  meets  with 
evidences  everywhere  that  nian  possesses  intuitive  knowledge  of  his  microcosmical 
significance,  of  his  cosmical  position. 

Chinese  myths  have  it,  that  out  of  chaos  man  emerged  as  the  ghost  of  earth  and  as  the 
Pure  One  in  Heaven  in  the  same  person.  His  head  became  the  mountain ;  the  sun  and  moon 
were  his  eyes,  rivulets  his  arteries  and  veins,  the  trees  his  hair.  Thus  the  members  of  man 
stretch  forth  in  the  universe.  The  primitive  man  of  the  Japanese  creates  the  waters,  standing 
upon  the  rainbow.  Weeping  for  his  broken  lance,  the  splinters  of  which  became  islands,  the 
tears  out  of  his  left  eye  became  the  sun,  those  out  of  the  right  eye  the  moon  — both  his 
daughters. 

The  deity  Yama,  the  first  man  of  the  Rig-veda  is  the  first  who  died  and  showed  his  de- 
scendants the  way  to  the  place  of  the  spirits. 

The  German  god-legends,  according  to  Grimm,  are  full  of  such  stories  in  which 
man's  corporeal  parts  are  conceived  as  a  miniature  world. 

The  body  is  the  center  in  which  the  image  of  the  whole  universe  is  reflected  [and  recog- 
nises itself.  The  flesh  is  made  of  loam ;  the  drops  of  perspiration  and  his  tears  are  his  share  of 
the  dews  of  heaven.  The  blood  was  taken  out  of  the  sea ;  the  arteries  from  the  herbs  of  the 
woods  and  the  fields,  the  hair  from  the  grass.  Man's  eye,  so  much  like  the  sun,  originated  in 
that  orb.  Thus  heaven  and  earth,  flowing  through  man,  bloom  forth  and  sparkle  through 
him,  their  child.  Mythology  contributes  hundreds  of  similar  reflections  of  nature  in  the  mind. 
We  see  in  them  more  than  childish  fancies,  for  which  some  have  only  the  smile  of  superiority. 

In  these  poetical  expressions  there  is  clearly  to  be  seen  the  intuitive  insight 
of  these  natural  peoples  into  the  connection  of  things,  as  into  the  living  organism 
which  everywhere  reflects,  conceals,  and  reveals  the  whole  in  all  its  parts.  The  en- 
tire universe  is  concentrated  in  man,  who  is  its  quintessence.  A  standing  conundrum 
is  this  figure  of  man  as  he  appears  in  every  nation  at  the  entrance-gate  of  its  history 
—much  like  the  sphinx,  keeping  watch  over  desert  and  tomb  and  temple,  taciturn. 
In  that  figure  the  world's  riddle  is  symbolised,  whose  hidden  ends  run  out  in  the 
meaning  of  man.  This  sphinx  seems  to  have  been  given  to  history  for  interpretation 
as  the  object  lesson  of  its  development.  Its  symbolism  includes  our  postulate  even, 
which  from  time  immemorial  everywhere  stood  before  the  human  mind. 

§  37  Man  as  he  stands  upon  the  earth,  is  the  allegory  of  the  visible  world,  sym- 
bolically containing  all  its  truth  and  virtually  all  its  reality.  With  his  head  erect 
toward  the  starry  heavens,  his  figure  intermediates  between  the  highest  and  lowest 
formations;  whilst  spiritually  he  surpasses  all.  Transcending  the  visible  he  reaches 
into  the  invisible  world  As  the  representative  of  the  visible  he,  in  a  microcosmical 
manner  as  it  were,  unites  within  himself  at  the  same  time  also  the  invisible  world. 
Here  however  we  come  to  a  halt.  We  are  not  allowed  to  penetrate  even  thus  far 
unless  accompanied  by  facts.  We  will  not  proceed  any  further  until  we  have  adduc- 
ed them  so  as  to  carry  our  credentials  with  us.  But  from  this  point  on,  we  have  to 
draw  on  the  psychical  life  of  the  race  for  such  facts  as  are  at  hand  and  well  authenti- 
cated.   Let  us  find,  then,  and  consider  such  data: 

Fortlage  paints  this  impressive  picture :  "Our  soul  is  like  unto  the  vaults  of  a  national 
treasury.  In  its  guarded  recesses  a  flickering  flame  lightens  up  a  small  portion  of  the  num- 
berless treasures— small  in  contrast  to  the  enormous  wealth  covered  by  the  ghostly  shadows  of 
the  subterranean  storage-rooms."  The  meaning  is  this :  The  greatest  component  part  of  our 
mind  is  asleep,  even  in  our  waking  state.  What  is  awake  within  us  is  never  the  ego  in  its  en- 
tirety ;  it  is  but  that  small  part  of  it  which  is  brought  to  our  consciousness  by  the  concentra- 


II.  A.  CH.  V.  §  37.  SUB-  (OB  "UNREFLECTED")  CONSCIOUSNESS.  91 

ting  function  of  the  mind,  called  attention.  It  is  this  attention  which  sug'grested  the  analogy 
of  the  lamp  in  the  cellar  vaults.  We  are  told  of  states  of  the  soul  in  exultation,  after  the  us© 
of  opium  for  instance,  in  which  the  intoxicated  victims  have  panorama-views  as  of  landscapes 
under  sunshine. 

The  writer  knows  from  his  own  experience  of  the  rather  trance-like  "central"  vision  jungj^^^j 
which  has  been  described  by  many  others,  whose  souls  in  extreme  perils  were  at  the  brink  of  The  unreflected 
separation  from  the  body  and  had  before  them  all  they  had  ever  experienced,  done  or  seen,  part  of  the  mind ; 
except  the  bad ;  whatever  sceneries  they  had  beheld  or  things  they  had  known.  It  is  a  moment 
of  beatitude;    a  condition  of  youth  and  ideality.   In  delirium  tremens  quite  different  pictures, 
but  on  the  same  grounds,  unfold  to  the  pitiable  sufferer. 

We  leave  these  pictures  to  rest  on  their  own  merits,  altho  we  know  of  very  well  authen- 
ticated facts  of  similar  nature  in  large  number,  not  sequent  to  intoxication  but  always  to  an 
abnormal  condition  of  the  organism  in  dangerous  situations,  where  sudden  death  seemed  un-  ^^^^^^  because  it  is 

^  .  ,11  J  1  •    1      ,,,,..  ,  beyond  observation  of 

avoidable.  Experiences  were  had  and  are  on  record,  upon  which  the  hallucination  theory  can  reflecting  reason, 
cast  no  suspicion  as  being  illusive  because  physiological  psychology  can  offer  no  explanation 
therefor.— "The  state  of  our  psychical  being  which  we  call  awake  is  never  awake  in  the  full 
sense ;  it  is  rather  a  permanent  daze.  Still  more  humiliating  is  the  fact,  that  under  the  con- 
dition of  things  this  half-sleep  must  regularly  change  off  with  full  sleep,  when  the  dim  light 
in  the  treasury  becomes  almost  extinct." 

Fortlage's  view  is  corroborated  by  many  such  psychologists  as  Fichte,  Jr.,  Kerner,  Krey-  Psychologists  taking 

„,  -,,,,  ^  i.  o.,      ,  ,^.,  subconsciousness  into 

her,  Erdmann,  etc.,  and  why  should  we  not  mention  Shakespeare  and  Goethe  along  with  account. 
them?  These  views  are  further  supported  by  hosts  of  witnesses  who  were,  and  are,  competent  * 

to  judge  scientifically  of  their  own  experiences. 

Zschokke,  the  extreme  rationalist,  tells  us  in  his  "Contemplations  upon  Myself"  about 
his  gift  of  the  "central  vision".  He  could  read  the  inner  life  of  such  as  were  strangers  to  him  ^ceitraf  viS^"'^*'*^''''' 
at  the  first  occasion  of  coming  in  contact  with  them.  Face  and  voice  of  such  a  one  addressing 
him,  would  make  scarcely  any  impression  upon  him ;  externals  he  perceived  very  indistinctly. 
But  the  mind  of  a  stranger  he  saw  clearly  before  him,  often  to  the  greatest  surprise  of  those 
who  were  witnesses,  and  always  to  his  own  annoyance.  Such  facts  are  amazing  only  to  those, 
who  pay  no  attention  to  phases  of  the  mind  or  moods  of  the  soul.  Even  among  psychologists 
some  feign  to  ignore  the  facts.  Altho  such  phenomena  may  not  be  explicable,  and  can  not  be 
housed  with  certain  pet  theories,  they  are  undeniable ;  they  may  be  troublesome  but  can  not 
be  evaded. 

Reason  builds  systematic  knowledge  in  the  conscious  state  of  the  mind  upon  the 
basis  of  facts.  But  this  does  not  say  that  judgments  are  reliable  in  all  cases,  nor 
does  it  deny  that  a  great  deal  of  wisdom  was  received  independent  of  reason.  We 
dare  not  lightly  ignore  such  data  of  psychical  life,  neither  do  we  need  to  despair  of 
their  explicability.  Much  more  important  than  the  precocious  construction  of  a  sys- 
tem into  which  these  unknown  quantities  will  fit,  is  to  us  the  weighing  and  consider- 
ing of  phenomena  which  ever  and  anon  intrude  upon  our  theories.  Attempts  to  put 
them  to  derision  are  unbecoming  to  serious  science. 

The  conclusion  drawn  from  the  observation  of  these  facts  under  this  topic  may  conclusion:   Thesouns 
be  presented  safely  in  this  axiom :    The  soul  in  its  entirety  contains  more  than  we  "now  there2^*  "^^ 
are  aware  of. 

Since  the  largest  and  perhaps  chief  portion  of  our  life  is  concealed  as  by  a  veil  in 
the  innermost  and  almost  impenetrable  recesses  of  the  soul,  then  this  sphere  of  in- 
tensified life  must  be  the  workshop  of  the  mysterious  phenomena  alluded  to. 

We  have  already  noticed  the  duality  of  the  human  soul.  Sind!*^  ""^  ^^^ 

A  misty  veil,  as  it  were,  not  to  say  a  hiatus  or  break,  divides  consciousness  into  ^  ^'  ^'  ^'  ^^'  "^' 

two  departments,  one  of  which  comes  under  control  of  the  mind,  whilst  of  the  other  ''*»*^«  *^°  ^«'«»^  °f 

1  J.    1  •  1      , .  consciousness. 

we  can  only  catch  an  occasional  glimpse. 

Every  one  of  us  has  perceived  some  of  the  latter's  very  energetic  manifestations.  Only  in 
Hegel's  daughter,  as  far  as  has  come  to  the  notice  of  history,  these  manifestations  seem  to 
have  become  abashed  after  her  father  had  peremptorily  told  her :  "Es  wird  von  jetzt  an  nicht 
mehr  getrseumt,"  I  do  not  want  you  to  dream  any  more ! 

"Day-consciousness"  and  "Night-consciousness"  (Tag-und  Nachtseite  des  Seelen-  ;Kf  ^nd  m?*"" 
lebens")  the  Germans  denominated  these  two  sides  of  the  spiritual  constituent  of  our  "  '"*  '""'■'"• 
mind,  whilst  now  the  better  terms  "reflecting"  and  "unreflected'  or  "sub-conscious- 
ness" have  come  into  use. 

"Reflecting"  describes  that  part  of  the  soul  in  which  the  mind  deliberates  upon  its  own  "Reflecting"  and 
acts  and  perceptions ;  reflecting  also  in  the  other  sense,  insomuch  as  the  mind  in  this  state  re-   "unreflected" 
fleets  its  impressions  and  compound  cognitions  upon  the  deeper  background  of  memory  for  defined"^"^^^ 
future  attention  and  reproduction,  where  they  stay,  whether  called  up  before  the  conscious    § «-  is,  a/,  in.  ii3,  221. 
state  or  not. 
9 


92 


These  two  sides  (H,  8, 9) 
generically  different, 
not  mere  moods  of  the 
soul. 


The  soul  par- 
takes of  the  life 
of  two  worlds. 


Dual  form  of  conscious- 
ness compared  with  two 
adjoining  rooms. 
Gill,  ok  la.  TouRsssa. 


THB"HBAD 


engaged  with  things  of 
the  cireumference. 


THE  "heart," 


core  of  physical  as  w^ell 
as  focus  of  spiritual 
life. 


Import  of  the  blood  upon 
physical  life. 

SCBTTBEBT,  QSCK. 


Seat  of  conscience;  of 
"central  vision.'' 


Place  of  contact  with 
the  spiritual  world. 


Equal  cultivation  of 
mental  and  emotional 
potentialities. 

i  12,13,15,6 


SOUL  AND  SPIEIT  IN  INTERRELATION.  H.  A.  Ch.  V.  §  37. 

"Unreflected"  consciousness  on  the  other  hand,  denotes  that  phase  of  the  inner  life 
where  the  mental  capabilities  of  the  mind  can  not  consciously  deliberate  upon  acts,  impres- 
sions and  promptings ;  hence  have  no  control  over  them.  Many  manifestations  of  the  unconsci- 
ous activity  from  that  side  flash  up  before  the  conscious  part,  but  they  are  not  retainable  as  a 
general  thing  and  seldom  reproducible  on  the  part  of  ordinary  reasoning,  remembering  and 
consciousness. 

These  two  phenomenal  spheres,  for  reasons  given,  must  not  be  considered  as  mere 
moods  of  the  soul,  but  pertain  chiefly  to  either  one  of  the  purely  spiritual  or  the 
physico-psychical  constituents  of  the  mind.  Discrimination  between  them  might  be 
more  distinct,  if  it  were  not  for  the  fact  that  the  physico-psychical  part  of  the  mind 
largely  contributed  and  deposited  its  reminiscences  of  its  preexistence  also  in  the 
"unreflected,"  or  "subconscious,"  department  of  the  mind. 

One  who  comes  to  himself  from  a  state  of  ecstasy  or  from  hypnotic  sleep  can  not 
remember  anything  he  thought  or  did  in  this  condition.  In  a  succeeding  repetition, 
however,  the  soul  is  able  to  recall  the  doings  in  the  previous  hypnotic  state.  "A 
duality  of  formal  existence  like  two  adjoining  rooms  with  different  contents"  was 
what  Gillers  de  la  Touresse  demonstrated  in  1889  for  Medical  Jurisprudence. 

Nothing  but  this  duality  of  reflecting  and  unreflected  consciousness  in  the  mind 
— i.  e.  soul  and  spirit  in  their  combination — explains  the  discrepancies  between 
"faith  and  science",  between  immediate,  intuitive  cognition  and  deliberate  reasoning, 
between  intuition  and  instinct,  between  genius  and  talent,  musing  and  thinking, 
between  the  "head  and  the  heart." 

Both  these  latter  appellations  are  not  philosophical.  But  inasmuch  as  McCosh  says,  that 
common  sense  possesses  the  truth  before  the  thinkers  arrange  it  scientifically,  we  must  make 
the  best  of  both  of  them. 

The  heart,  in  this  empirical  sense,  is  understood  to  be  the  central  seat  of  personal  life,  of 
mind  and  emotional  sentiency  (Gemuethsleben). 

In  the  head  this  life  becomes  apparent  by  way  of  the  reflecting  functions  of  the  mental 
faculties  in  the  form  of  awakened  thought.  This  is  the  reason  why  the  intellect  is  prone  to 
claim  consciousness  and  discursive  thought  only  for  itself;  and  that  we  grant  the  claim,  un- 
aware of  the  fact  that  all  the  other  faculties  and  even  the  physical  conditions  in  their  quiet 
way  cooperate  with  "pure  reason." 

The  head  is  the  acknowledged  seat  of  mediated  or  secondary,  of  discursive  and  reflecting 
thought— the  opposite  of  "central  vision."  It  is  generally  occupied  by  the  multiplicity  of 
things  on  the  circumference ;  is  often  bribed  by  base  promptings,  gets  easily  confused  and 
sometimes  altogether  prepossessed  by  the  world  of  glitter  and  sham.  In  the  heart  (of  course 
not  in  the  mere  physiological  sense)  we  see  not  only  the  core  of  all  physical,  that  is,  unconsci- 
ous soul-life,  but  also,  and  primarily,  the  center  and  focus  of  the  psychico-spiritual  life.  It 
bears  along  all  spiritual  and  ethical  movements,  all  sentiments.  And  not  only  this  emotional 
activity  as  caused  by  man  himself  pertains  to  it,  but  it  represents  moreover,  the  sphere  where 
finite  life  is  stimulated  by  the  infinite. 

With  reference  to  the  physico-psychical  side  Schubert  and  Beck  pointed  out  years  ago, 
the  necessity  of  considering  the  blood  in  conjunction  with  the  nerves  in  explanation  of  psy- 
chological experiences.  When  this  is  done  our  statements  will  be  acknowledged  as  more  than 
feasible.  So  much  is  certain,  that,the  dry,  i.  e.  onesided  psychology  with  its  nerve-fluids  not- 
withstanding, the  heart  does  not  cease  to  show  "cordial"  feelings,  to  believe,  to  love,  and— to 
"break,"  is  not  simply  a  thing  of  poetry  altho  it  is  true  even  in  this  respect  that  "the 
heart  speaks  most  when  the  lips  move  not." 

Here  is  the  seat  of  conscience,  independent  of  will,reason  and  sense-perceptions,  but  with 
its  direct  influences  upon  the  circulation  of  the  blood.  Hence  the  heart  is  said  to  possess  im- 
mediate knowledge  and  certainty  and  is  deemed  the  medium  through  which  the  Absolute 
Good  is  represented,  and  its  reality  and  presence  announced.  Here  is  the  form  where  the 
right  and  the  valiie  of  the  Good  is  manifested  and  vindicated. 

Here  the  verdict  of  what  is  worthy  is  rendered,  and  the  feeling  of  appreciation  of  the  one 
thing  necessary  is  preserved.  Here  intuition,  divination,  faith,  vision,  contrition  and  consola- 
tion stand  connected  with  all  those  virtues  which  are  the  flavor  of  genuine  religion,  histori- 
cally known  as  the  "fruits  of  the  spirit." 

Here  is  to  be  located— not,  however,  in  a  spatial  sense,  since  all  that  pertains  to  the  spir- 
itual part  of  the  mind  lies  above  space  and  time— the  deep-lying  seat  of  "unreflected"  or  sub- 
consciousness, the  point  of  contact  and  intercourse  with  the  allsurpassing  and  allcomprising 
order  of  a  higher  world— and  with  the  "underworld,"  too. 

Neither  of  these  chief  constituents  of  personal  life  should  unduly  preponderate 
over,  or  be  cultivated  at  the  expense  of,  the  other,  and  ethical  culture  alone  can  tend 
to  the  happy  mean.  Whatever  may  be  accepted  or  rejected  of  these  statements,  so 
much  is  certain,  that  physiological  psychology  will  not  overthrow  their  truth  in  or- 
der to  replace  them  by  materialistic  or  agnostic  dogmas.  "Natural  science  (espe- 
cially as  far  as  it  is  materialistic)  treats  of  the  conditions  of  world  consciousness. 


n.  A.  Ch.  V.  §  38.  OCCULTISM.  93 

But  if  it  seeks  to  forestall  spiritual  truths  which  stand  equal  to  empiric  facts,  then," 
says  Zoellner,  "as  is  known  to  everybody  today,  it  will  not  succeed"  (not  even  with  its  Nat.  science 
present  apparatus  of  forty  odd  classified  nerves,  each  under  so  much  pressure  per  pi"^n^re*flecting 
inch,  we  add)— "in  demonstrating  pain  and  pleasure  as  the  first  principles  of  con-  consciousness, 
eciousness  or  of  ethics." 

Nobody  will  successfully  object  to  these  words  of  the  great  scientist.    But  neither  Hist,  science  is 
will  we  succeed  in  explaining  the  "  unreflected  "  consciousness  in  a  scientific  and  scientifically^  *** 
unchallengeable  manner.    We  simply  wanted  to  call  the  attention  to  the  need  of  J^P|g^"  unre- 
recognising  and  investigating  such  phenomena  as  deserve  it.    We  will  spare  our-  consciousness, 
selves  the  effort  to  find  the  connections  between  them  and  to  classify  them,  for  rea- 
sons which  will  appear  later  on.  subject  postponed. 

Before  leaving  tiiis  fascinating  subject  for  the  present,  notwithstanding  our  incomplete  ^      * 

view  of  it,  we  can  not  refrain  from  pointing  to  the  "  Anthropologie"  of  the  "  younger  "  Fichte.  Fichte's  Anthropology. 
A  few  thoughts  suggested  by  this  keen  observer  and  clear  thinker  may  be  profitably  added  ' 

when  this  whole  matter  will  receive  more  light,  when  we  behold  the  figure  of  the  first  man. 

§  38.  There  exists  a  horrid  magic  art,  through  which  uncultured  hordes  influ- 
ence the  animal  world.  Among  them  we  find  occult  powers  at  work,  which  need  not 
be,  and  have  not  been,  acquired  by  studies  in  sorcery,  but  which  have  broken  forth  ^ 

from  the  depths  of  "  unreflected  "  consciousness. 

"In  the   performances   of   sorcery,    spiritism,   mesmerism,  etc.,  the    amount  ftateorne^r^i.*^""""*^ 
of  demonstrated  fraud  is  so  great  as  to  cast  suspicion  over  the  whole.    In  general 
there  is  a  very  strong  presumption  against  any  alleged  fact  which  stands  apart  from 
the  established  order  of  life.    The  uttermost  care  must  be  taken  in  determining  the  \ 

facts  before  placing  any  faith  in  them ;  a  certain  lukewarmness  is  highly  to  be  rec-  phenoraena*^f*tXkiii(i; 
ommended."    This  advice  of  Bordon  Bowne  is  appropriate:  but  may  not  lukewarm- 
ness in  religious  matters  take  umbrage  and  justify  itself  on  the  same  grounds  ?     To 
omit  the  mention  of  these  facts  does  not  remove  them  from  history. 

He  insists  upon  the  necessity  that  such  psychological  phenomena  and  occurrences  recelvo 
their  due  share  of  observation  and  that  they  be  subjected  to  the  most  rigid  examination  as   being  of  great  historir^ 

,  -    ,  .  ,  ,  rr,,  ,  .  ,  ■.,.,.  »  .    I      import,  the  necessity  o£ 

the  facts  of  hypnotism  have  been.    Then  things  may  be  made  plain  and  innocuous  which   their  recognition 
heretofore   were  pushed  aside  as  uncanny  mysteries  and  upon  which,  nevertheless,  supersti-   ''1*'^*«*^  "P"'»- 
tion  was  feeding.     Those  psychological  phenomena  have  exerted  decided  influences  in  epochal 
events;    and  in  general,  their  historical  import  has  not  received  that  attention  which    it 
demands. 

We  keep  in  mind  that  they  are  to  be  designated  as  abnormal  with  reference  to  Man  passive  under 

.  ,    ,  mysterious  powers — a 

the  ordinary  course  of  things,  as  symptoms  of  an  unhealthy  condition  under  the  patient. 
power  of  which  man  is  passive,  is  a  patient! 

The  effects  of  these  powers,  and  the  wily,  mystifying  and  baffling  manner  in 
which  they  assert  themselves,  lead  us  to  surmise  an  organ  or  a  potentiality  in  the 
nature  of  man  which  in  the  normal  state  lies  dormant.    This  "rudimentary"  and  f ac-  facuMe?  ^^^ 
ultative  organ,  coming  nearer  to  the  surface  in  proportion  of  more  or  less  debility  of  humin  naTu^. '" 
the  nervous  system,  shows  its  susceptibility  in  the  sphere  of  central  vision  as  well  as 
in  that  of  reflex  nerve  action. 

It  shows  itself  now  at  an  occasion  of  a  visionary  flash,  and  then  as  an  ecstatic  visionary  flash. 
grasp.  The  capability  of  perceiving  such  a  flash  or  glance  is  perceptible  in  the  Ecstatic  grasp. 
milder  and  nearer  forms  of  forebodings:  it  rises  to  the  state  of  second  sight,  to  the 
ecstacy  of  a  trance,  to  mind-reading,  and  up  to  the  eccentricities  of  clairvoyant  vis- 
ions into  immeasurable  distances  of  space  and  time.  Manifestations  of  this  kind  in- 
dicate a  faculty  of  central  vision  a  potentiality  which  everybody  carries  within  him- 
self. 

The  capability  of  the  grasp  touches,  in  spite  of  distances,  other  souls  and  bodies^ 
in  a  depth  and  by  means  which  to  us  are  sealed  up.  Of  course  we  have  a  scientific  Telepathy 
name  for  it :  Telepathy.  But  what  becomes  of  its  diagnosis  ?  Surmise  magnetism  ? 
Too  clumsy;  perhaps  there  is  some  power  analogous  to  it  at  the  bottom.  Certain  it  is, 
that  it  is  there  and  at  work.  We  can  notice  it  in  the  way  that  people  passing  on  the 
street  will  simultaneously  turn  and  look  at  each  other.  Nobody  will  deny  that  such 
a  rapport  exists,  and  has  revealed  itself  by  instantaneous  monitions  in  cases  of  ex- 
treme peril  between  friends,  notwithstanding  the  oceans  between  them. 

We  were  reminded  of  the  rudimentary  organs  as  analogous  to  what  we  suppose  to  be  ii^djnjentary  orrans  in 
•dormant  capabilities  of  the  inner  life.    Perhaps  we  may  find  more  in  them  than  mere  illus-  the  animal  world 
trations.    A  whale's  skeleton,  they  say,  plainly  shows  excrescences  in  the  place  where  the  or- 
gans of  locomotion  grow  on  quadrupeds.    The  horse  carries  in  its  hoofs  the  crippled  bones  of 


94 


RUDIMENTAEY  ORGANS  AS  ANALOGIES. 


n.  A.  Ch.  V.  §  38. 


either  retardations,  or 
adaptabilities  designed 


for  use  in  the  higher 
sphere  of  existence.. 


Physical  analogy:  the 
butterfly. 


Suppositions  drawn 
from  above  facts: 
hidden  faculties  in  man 
to  become  developed  for 
use  in  the  higher  form 
of  existence. 


Man's  outfit  for  , 
attaining  his 
destiny  as  to 
earthly  life, 


under  the  strain 
of  his  dual 
nature. 

In  what  sense  he  is 
created  perfect. 


Duality  of  consciousness 
necessary  for  causing 
the  polarity  which 
stimulates  and  restrains 
aspirations. 

Gifts 

delineate  the  ethical 
process,  prescribe  the 
scope  of  his 

ethical  task. 

§177. 


Elevation  of  nature 
through  man.  §  9. 


Nature  ceased  to  de- 
velop at  man's 
appearance, 


who  Is  to  set  free 
nature's  potentialities. 


five  toes.  Such  retarded  growths  we  recognise  as  remnants  of  original  adaptabilities.  If  the 
animals  had  relapsed  from  a  higher  state,  then  these  undeveloped  members  would  have  to  be 
explained  as  checked  growths,  since  the  organism  of  the  animal  adapted  itself  to  environ- 
ments aÄd  modes  of  life,  where  the  member  was  not  brought  into  exercise  and  its  growth 
stopped. 

Or  we  notice  on  the  other  hand  the  hidden  probabilities  which  could  have  obtained  their 
full  development  only  in  a  higher  sphere,  where  the  use  of  such  incipient  organs  will  tend  to 
their  unfolding.  The  metamorphosis  of  the  butterfly  will  serve  most  adequately  in  illustrat- 
ing this.  From  whatever  side  we  look  at  this  matter,  we  will  agree  that  such  physical  predis- 
positions can  not  be  understood  from  the  present  condition  of  the  species  showing  such 
rudimentary  organs.  Alone  by  comparison  with,  and  in  reference  to,  other  species  can  we 
comprehend  these  peculiarities. 

We  may  consider  them  purposeless ;  whilst  in  fact  we  have  hidden  organs  before 
us  which  were  not  used,  or  will  come  to  be  used.  Would  it  be  unreasonable,  then,  to 
conjecture  upon  the  presence  of  similar  rudimentary  faculties  in  man?  In  the  com- 
bination of  his  nature  we  have  observed  aptitudes  which  we  think  to  be  intended  for 
use  in  another  form  of  existence.  Being  not  in  use  for  the  present,  they  are  taken 
out  of  his  hands  :  at  the  proper  occasion  we  expect  to  see  them  developed,  and  to  be 
restored  for  free  use. 

They  may  indicate,  too,  how  many  potentialities,  generally  hidden  from  view, 
may  have  been  in  possession  of  the  first  man.  We  shall  find  some  more  facts  to 
strengthen  such  a  supposition. 

Should  this  supposition  be  proven  by  other  and  palpable  indications,  then  the 
first  man  stood  like  a  king,  having  powers  at  his  command  which  we  can  only  guess 
at  from  what  is  left ;  then  he  possessed  within  himself  the  pledges  for  a  develop- 
ment short  only  of  absolute  perfection.  And  in  this  fifst  man  the  theme  of  history 
is  enwrapped.  History  is  but  the  development  of  the  wealth  of  potentialities  where- 
with the  representative  of  mankind  is  endowed.  In  him  are  deposited  in  concen- 
trated form  the  means  with  which  history  works.  In  him  lie  the  contrasts  or  anti- 
thetical principles  in  an  undifferentiated,  promiscuous  bundle  of  possibilities  and 
dispositions  which,  after  having  been  set  free  and  applied,  will  mold  individual  and 
social  life  under  tensions  and  equations. 

The  opposites  united  in  man  run  in  the  direction  of  two  strongly  antagonistic 
principles  which  by  their  conflict  stimulate  and  restrain  each  other. 

In  the  first  place  man,  owing  to  the  finiteness  of  personal  life,  finds  himself  a  de- 
pendent entity  which  once  was  not,  but  has  become  such.  Hence  finite  man  has  him- 
self not  entirely  in  his  own  power;  he  does  not  control  his  beginning  and  cannot  pen- 
etrate into  the  depths  of  his  own  nature.  Altho  the  first  man  doubtless  did,  probably 
involuntarily  to  some  extent,  apply  the  wealth  of  gifts  in  a  manner  of  which  we  can 
have  no  experience.  Notwithstanding  his  relative  perfection,  there  must  have  been 
incipient  in  him  even  the  duality  of  consciousness.  For  he  ever  represented  the 
unity  of  the  natural  and  the  spiritual  world,  combining  both  in  the  form  of  his  exis- 
tence, while  not  even  the  depths  of  his  natural  parts,  consisting  of  an  epitome  of  the 
universe,  were  altogether  comprehended  with  conscious  intelligence.  Man  had  to 
learn  to  know  the  world  and  his  relations  to  it  by  the  use  of  his  incipient  faculties 
which  he  thus  had  to  develop  himself.  What  he  possessed  were  gifts,  bestowed  upon 
him  in  such  a  manner  as  to  render  their  application  and  elaboration  his  duty,  to 
serve  him  as  the  outline  of  what  he  had  to  learn.  Seine  Gaben  wurden  seine  AufgabeUo 

Next  to  the  task  of  self  culture,  that  is  of  developing  and  adjusting,  balancing  and 
controlling  the  harmonious  interactions  of  the  faculties  themselves  in  order  to  fit 
him  for  the  work  appointed  to  him  by  the  opportunities  which  the  world  affords  him, 
was  the  improvement  of  his  estate,  the  elevation  of  his  world. 

This  task,  concurrent  with  the  first  duty  of  keeping  up  the  union  between  body 
and  soul,  consists  in  cultivating  the  natural  world  which,  at  his  appearance,  ceased 
to  develop.  It  became  man's  duty  to  elevate  nature  to  his  own  exalted  state,  to  define, 
direct,  and  rule  over  its  unceasing  movements.  In  doing  this,  he  was  to  begin  with 
his  nearest  environment— his  own  body  in  its  then  simplest  relation.  Nature's  forces 
through  him  were  to  be  set  free  for  his  own  benefit,  just  as  the  faculties  of  his  own 
mind  were  to  be  set  free,  subject  to  the  condition  of  their  proper  exercise  at  the  ap- 
paratus, and  their  engagement  in  due  order.  This  is  the  part  of  obligation    assigned 


IL  A.  CH.  V.  §  39.    THE  IMAGE  DEVELOPING  IN  MAN  :  THE  APPARATUS.  95 

to  him— to  cultivate  himself  by  cultivating  nature.  To  be  thus  engaged  is  to  his  own  This  conditions 
advantage;  his  fortune  is  given  entirely  into  his  hands.    In  pursuance  of  this  work  ™teiie™Sai^^"'^ 
his  own  dispositions  and  potentialities  are  to  be  set  free  by  way  of  self  determination,  progress, 
since  the  process  of  man's  development  can  only  be  ethical.    It  can  only  prosper  as  it  since  only  thus 
concurs  with  the  plan  of  glorification  and  personal  communication— in  freedom  and  ow^f  ^^^  man's 

i^vA  potentialities 

»  ,  ,...  «         ,    .        XI  .  are  set  free. 

§  39.    Man's  faculties  are  set  free  under  condition  of  applying  them  in  proper  co- 
operation, hence  they  become  differentiated  under  the  progressive  division  of  labor,  j^^^^^.^^^^^^y^^ 
whereby  all  development    is    to  proceed  harmoniously.    Especially  his  own  gifts  apparatus^  ^  ^^  ^^  ^^^ 
are    to  develop  according  to  the  "image"  within  himself  and  in  concert  with  nature. 
Toil,  woe,  and  strife  are  not  necessary  for  development  under  these  conditions.    Nec- 
essary is  nothing  but  the  voluntary,  joyful  concurrence  with  the  Absolute  Good  which 
reigns  supreme,  and  which  has  its  representative  in  man  for  his  own  good,  securing  SfX'piana'Iid*'*^' 
its  own  value  and  preserving  man's  dignity  under  all  circumstances.   The  entire  ere-  o°Ser  o7  thL'^s!*' **'^ 
ation  is  arranged  to  this  end.    Man  from  his  own  resources  is  to  liberate  the  possibil-      §  s«  '^' »'  i^'  "ß-  220. 
ities  latent  in  things  and  in  persons.  He  is  to  redeem  the  retarded  life  of  nature,  which  pifferentiation  of  man-. 

°  ^  ,.  «,.ij.  1,,         faculties  under  division 

became  arrested  life  on  his  account,  in  order  that  this  work  of  liberation  should  be-  of  labor. 
come  his  task  for  his  own  advantage  and  progress;  to  deliver  the  life  confined  in 
nature  so  as  to  elevate  it  to  his  own  level  and  lead  it  up  with  himself  to  spiritual  „    ,  , ,. 

.^  «i  ■«,  Man  to  deliver  confined 

perpetuity  and  reality.  This  is  the  ethical  task  and  significance  of  true  culture.    Man  ^^*;^*°^;^'^'^^  °^ 

is  to  keep  himself  ahead,  abreast  at  least,  in  this  line  of  advance,  and  to  conduct  all 

in  harmony  with  himself,  and  himself  in  harmony  with  all,  to  the  goal  of  a  glorious 

and  complete  transformation.    This  must  be  the  procedure  of  civilisation,  and  nothing  T^®  ethical  goal. 

short  of  it.    It  is  the  method  according  to  which  history  follows  its  course. 

The  duality  and  consequent  polarity  of  human  nature  was  adapted  to  the  normal  JX're\°ldl"pTed°to  th« 
exercise  of  man's  spiritual  and  natural  obligations;  the  tension  and  duality  were  history  purlSts 
Intended  to  bring  about  a  complete  and  happy  union  in  perfect  conformity  with  the  *"''''^'®* 
supreme  purpose— if  it  had  not  been  for  a  certain  great  calamity.    That  it  occurred  faii^ncS'to^be * 
was  not,  however,  the  fault  of  the  necessary  and  beneficial  polarity  and  duality,  blamed  upon 
But  after  the  event  had  happened,  advance  not  only  stopped  abruptly,  it  is  even     ^^    "^  *  ^* 
made  almost  impossible.    Advance  would  have  been  rendered  altogether  impossible  natuSnÄSu 
had  it  not  been  for  the  polarity  which  keeps  up  its  work  in  full  force.  benSÄ""" 

For  notwithstanding  the  calamity,  nature  and  history  kept  their  course,  as  de- 
lineated in  the  first  man  once  and  forever. 

One  more  coincidence  in  the  polarisation  of  human  nature  must  not  be  lost 
sight  of.    It  is  an  essential  part  of  finite  personal  life  to  become  effective  under  the  S^eandfem^ninf''"' 
polarity  of  the  masculine  and  feminine  principles,  under  the  polarity  of  activity  and  I^S  mS/^**''*  '°  *^* 
receptivity. 

As  a  potentiality  at  least,  the  tension  of  this  polarity  must  have  been  latent  in 
the  first  man  already,  tho  concealed  and  undifferentiated  as  yet.  This  principle  of  a 
peculiar  strain  is  growing  the  more  intense,  and  is  balanced  the  better,  too,  the  more 
forces  are  differentiated  and  come  into  play.  We  believe  we  have  found  the  secret  of 
this  emulative  principle  expressed  in  both  the  reflecting  and  unreflected  forms  of 
consciousness. 

Thus  alone  the  deep  problems,  high  aspirations  and  sad  failures  in  the  lives  of 
individuals  and  nations  may  be  understood.    Unless  the  occult  powers  pervading  and 
agitating  human  life  receive  due  consideration,  history  remains  unintelligible.    The  Poiarity  of  active  and 
tension  caused  by  this  duality  of  human  nature  as  now  pointed  out,  the  polarity  natural  development 
manifesting  itself  between  the  active  and  passive  tempers,continues  even  to  predomi-  ws'torytL  means ^f or 
nate  through  the  entire  course  of  history.    It  lies  at  the  root  of  that  all-pervading 
and  portentous    strain  between  the  oriental  and  occidental  parts  of  humanity.    It  is 
just  this  strain  which  furnishes  history  most  of  its  means  and  instrumentalities. 

Such  is  man,  standing  before  us  at  the  beginning  of  history  as  its  prophesying 
figure.    He  is  not  quite  that  "embellished  initial"  of  a  mediaeval  manuscript,  which  Jorenaturluhln"* 
Lotze's  philosophy  would  make  him.    He  is  more  natural  and  less  perfect,  and  less  ^z«  imagined. 
sophisticated.    It  was  not  the  "strive  for  existence"  in  accord  with  the  law  of  the 
"survival  of  the  fittest,  which  forced  him  to  assume  his  erect  posture,"  as  Dierks 
wrote  as  late  as  A.  D.  1881. 


96  THAT  WHICH  "OUGHT  NOT  TO  BE."  II.  A.  Ch.  VI.  §  40. 

On  the  contrary.  It  was  his  inner  value,  the  incognito  majesty  of  his  spirit 
which  exalted  man;  because  this  alone  does  not  come  from  below.  But  how  came 
this  hieroglyphic  figure  to  stand  at  the  gate  of  history  containing  the  theme  of  it  and 
also  the  means  for  it  in  himself?  And  how  does  it  correspond  with  all  the  dark  de- 
signs substantiating  themselves  in  the  miseries  of  real  life?  These  questions  have 
scarcely  been  touclied  upon  as  yet.  If  it  seemed  as  tho  the  deciphering  of  the  hiero- 
^     .•         u-  u    glyph  should  be  evaded  in  this  work  as  was  done  in  others  of  its  kind,  then  it  is  time 

Questions  which     f  ^  xv      •  •  t^    x  x   ,       •      x  x.  x- 

cannot  be  solved    to  correct  the  impressiou.    But  we  can  not  begin  to  answer  these  questions,  until 
kilowledgelhas      ^6  have  the  phenomena  before  us  in  all  their  bearings.    In  the  phantom-like  appear- 
been  gained.         ance  of  the  first  man  as  he  stands  before  our  expectations,  all  contrasts  are  com- 
pounded and  equalised  in  the  simple  concurrence  of  motion,  mere  emotion  in  his 
case— because  the  tensions  are  all  as  yet  under  the  regulating  pendulum  of  the  God- 
consciousness  pure  and  simple. 

It  is  only  when  man  becomes  aware  that  this  is  disturbed,  when  by  the  break  of 
the  order  of  duality  connections  are  severed,  when  the  contrasts  become  conflicts,  and 
the  natural  strains  alone  have  their  sway;  when  the  God-consciousness  expires,  as  it 
the  confciouYness  were,  under  the  prevailing  symptoms  of  rupture,  detachment,  departure,  dispersion, 
the^faii^^i^Se'-^     dissolution— that  the  sinking  and  precipitous  descent  begins  to  be  conceivable— not 
comes  complete     until  then.    It  is  after  man  has  lost  the  best  part  of  his  life,  after  the  true  and  vital 
of  fhe*conSic^^     core  of  cousciousness,  namely  love  and  peace  have  receded,  that  he,  collectively  as 
become  apparent,  -^^jj  ^g  individually,  becomes  conscious  of  his  selfhood,  is  concerned  about,  and  en- 
ii!  d'.  Ch".  2.  gaged  with,  himself.   Unless  he  becomes  aware  of  these  sad  facts,  he  does  not  become 
Conditions  of  self-        kuowu  to  hlmself .    It  Is  thus  that  man  as  a  person  or  as  a  nation  may  find  himself 
knowledge:  ^^  ^^  Impoverlshed  condition  and  feel  his  great  losses;  under  the  vicissitudes  which 

ment^cS^the^Bad  ^^^^^  trom  the  multiplicity,  where  unity  ought  to  be  maintained;  which  originate  in 
J^sire^for  restitution  of'  quautltes  slukiug  by  their  own  weight,  where  quality  should  preponderate.  A  mul- 
tiplicity in  conflict— this  is  the  distress  of  consciousness  with  which  new  knowledge 
and^quaiity*l  "^^  ^  Is  to  beglu,  uuder  which  the  mind  is  to  be  awakened.  Not  before  this  consciousness 
oonflictr^*^  *"  ^*  sinking  into  the  abyss  of  self  abandonment  is  recognised,  can  we  begin  to  under- 
^  ,.,.   \  ^.    ^       stand  the  first  man.    We  are  unable  to  realise  the  decadence  with  all  its  wretched- 

Quantities  sinking  by 

their  own  weight.  ness;  we  are  too  much  disabled  to  endure  a  single  glance  into  the  chasm  yawning  be- 

Fuii  recognition  of        tweeu  destluy  and  reality;  and  if  we  could,  our  seeing  would  be  of  no  avail,  for  we 
^^lyp^sTbiewheTit     wouM  become  completely  terrorised,  until  the  cause  of  the  misery  and  the  conse- 

appears  in  its  own  «j,        »,,  -i,.  ,, 

whole  compass.  qucuces  of  the  fall  appear  in  their  whole  compass. 

S  40,  U,  56,  109,  112,  115.    ^  ^^  ^ 

CH.  VI.    THE  GREAT  CALAMITY  AND  THE  CATASTROPHES. 

§  40.  The  proofs  adduced  for  the  quality  and  high  position  of  the  Ideal  man  (not- 
withstanding the  questionable  and  unsatisfactory  "achievements",  that  is,  notwith- 
standing the  ideal  which  man  would  improvise  on  the  spur  of  his  lamentable  condi- 
tion, his  present  reality)  and  the  vouchers  for  the  permanent  significance  of  the  first 
real  man  justifying  our  position:  bring  us  face  to  face  with  the  most  vexatious  of  all 
problems. 
Bastian  on  confined  life  "lu  the  drcamy  exlsteuce  of  uature-bouud,  uucultured  people,  the  night  side  of 
of  nature-bound  people,  j^^j^^n  life  (our  uureflectcd  consciousness)  constantly  reaches  up,  or  is  extended  into 
their  day's  work"  (Bastian,  Volks-und  Menschenkunde,  Berlin,  1888.) 

This  is  an  important  observation.  For  what  is  meant  by  "dream-life?"  In  the 
preceding  chapter  we  had  to  utilise  such  proofs  as  are  found  in  man's  actual  condi- 
tion. In  the  realities  of  life  surrounding  us,  we  met  something  irrational  which 
marred  the  understanding  of  the  first  man.  Burdened  with  incomprehensibilities  we 
stand  before  the  great  question. 
SeT'^whÄes^in  Looklug  upou  the  suiu  aud  substance  of  the  world's  doings  as  unbiased  as  pos- 

'Xht^'Stobe"        sible,  we  find  to  our  dismay  at  every  step  what  Schelling  called  "das  Nicht-sein-sol- 
^"«""si, 202, 204, 238.  ^^^^de,"  that  whlch  ought  not  to  be.    Does  that  cause  all  this  trouble? 

We  have  endeavored  to  show,  how  even  in  the  so-called  dead  geological  mass  there  are 
imponderable  forces  interrelated  and  at  work,  and  how  they  on  their  part  are  instrumental 
to,  and  in  all  their  movements  cooperative  with,  the  historic  purpose.  But  this  was  saying  very 
little  as  regards  matter  itself.    We  merely  hinted  at  the  idea  that  matter  may  be  taken  for 
^  substantiated  power  and  purpose,  as  compressed,  arrested  life,  perhaps.  This  we  did  under  the 

conviction  that  there  is  a  life  of  a  higher  nature,  the  principles  or  elements  of  which  interact 


n.  A.  CH.  VI.  §  40.  THE  BAD  ANTAGONISES  THE  PURPOSE.  97 

with  that  of  the  lower  order  in  free  motion,  substantiating  themselves  and  complementing' 
each  other  in  form  of  opposites,  without  limit  and  without  conflict,  We  only  refer  to  the 
"Monads"  of  Leibnitz  in  their  blind  confusion,  despite  their  "pre-established  harmony,"  altho 
they  have  been  put  up  again  in  array  against  our  axiom  of  the  invisible  reality  of  the  spiritual 
world. 

Whatever  theory  is  set  up  does  not  forbid  us  to  see  forces  in  what  is  called  matter,  Matter  not  the 
which,  (under  the  auspices  of  a  thought,  combining  them  in  systematic  and  mutual  cause  of  the 
equation  as  complements  to  each  other)— substantiated  themselves  and  moved  in 
perfect  equilibrium  and  serenity.    Hence  we  can  not  charge  either  force  or  its  sub- 
stance with  being  the  cause  of  the  troubles  under  discussion. 

It  was  from  some  other  cause  that  the  gladsome  and  harmonious  immanency  of  immanency  of  thought 

,        ,  ,  .  11  substance  thrown  out 

thought,  or  of  life,  or  force  in  matter  became  severed.    The  intimate  relation  sustain-  of  baunee. 
ed  a  rupture,  it  broke  into  separable  relations.    Force-substance  realised  the  possibi- 
lity of  standing  outside  of,  and  opposite  to  each  other.    Elements  became  loosened,  ^at^"'«  iniubordmate  u> 
detached  themselves,  asserted  independence,  and  pushed  on  in  setting  up  separate  re- 
lations of  existence  of  their  own. 

This  insubordinate  attitude  of  the  forces  in  nature  is  due  to  the  unbridled  propen-  The  rend 
sities  and  distorted  inclinations  and  dissipated  appetites  of  the  human  soul,  so  impo-  h^fmaS^^oui 
tent  and  yet  so  arrogant.    For  the  human  soul  is  the  focus  of  all  principles  and  extends  through 
forces  and  elements  in  the  life  of  nature.   Hence  the  loss  of  equilibrium  in  the  human 
soul  must  of  necessity  affect  all  natural  life. 

Many  speculatists  have  tried  to  describe  nature  as  thoroughly  purposive  in  all 
its  formations.    Doubts  about  it  were  taken  for  ignorance.    Never  can  we  be  convinc-  ^^hjchonthis  account  is 

*=*  uot  thoroughly 

edthat  all  the  destruction  going  on  in  nature  and  history  is  necessary  for  any  purposive. 
natural  or  moral  purpose. 

If  billions  of  tender  and  harmless  molluscs  are  thrown  by  a  single  wave  upon  the  hot 
sands  to  perish,  it  will  always  be  difficult  to  establish  any  purpose  in  their  death.  Likewise  will 
it  be  in  vain  to  reduce  the  sensations  of  abhorrence  or  disgust,  caused  by  monstrosities  or  _  . 

nauseous  objects,  to  the  variety  of  taste  or  to  the  lack  of  information,  as  to  their  necessity  for  ^'^ 

a  purpose.  And  as  it  is  in  regard  to  nature,  so  it  is  with  respect  to  nations.  There  too,  the 
waste  of  forces  is  appalling.  How  incomprehensible  is  the  contrast  between  exertions  and 
successes.  With  all  the  impetuosity  of  propagation  how  few  of  the  products  are  well  qualified 
specimens  and  fit  for  the  world.  What  swarms  of  people  crowd  some  poor  quarters  of  the  every  idea  of  "'^ 
globe,  whilst  finer  regions  are  not  appreciated  by  the  few  occupants.  Beside  the  proportion-  P«rposeness. 
ally  narrow  strip  of  the  northern  temperate  zone,  not  many  other  parts  of  the  globe's  surface 
seem  adapted  for  raising  that  superior  quality  of  human  beings  which  is  of  value  to  the  cul- 
tural life  of  the  rest  of  the  world. 

A  feeling  of  gloom  seizes  one  at  reading  of  the  uncouth  peoples  which  roam  over  the 
dreary  steppes,  or  swarm  in  the  thickly  settled  portions  of  Asia.  The  wretchedness  of  hu- 
manity there  is  so  disheartening  as  to  make  the  value  of  man  almost  vanish.  It  is  similar  to 
the  awe  oppressing  the  mind  at  the  sight  of  the  wild  vegetation  of  swamps,  or  the  barren 
monotony  of  such  vast  tracts  of  "bad  lands"  as  those  of  the  Dakotas.  It  bewilders  us  to  behold 
such  environments,  because  we  can  not  comprehend  why  there  is  so  much  of  the  distressing 
and  the  crude  around  us,  ever  reproducing  itself  so  rapidly,  whilst  the  good  and  that  which  is 
noble  is  augmenting  so  slowly.  There  seems  no  system  nor  even  picturesqueness  in  such 
dreary  vastnesses  which  defy  any  idea  of  plan  or  purpose.  And  besides,  such  views  fill  us  with  «Jre^ho^oTthe*  ^^^^' 
gioom  because  there  is  something  within  ourselves  which  inadvertently  finds  the  inner  con-  reproachful  sighing  at 
dition  of  the  mind  reflected  in  nature.  Our  gloomy  moods  are  generally  the  echo  of  selfre- 
proach  which  nature  calls  forth  by  its  physical  analogies. 

In  addition  to  the  sighs  of  the  creature  audible  in  nature  inexplicable  and  occult  phe- 
nomena have  to  be  considered  of  which  history  speaks,  in  order  to  understand  the  melan- 
choly mood  of  the  mind.    The  Greeks  and  Romans  —notwithstanding  their  natural  hilarity,  Qß^^i* 
their  bravery  and  their  frivolous  attitude  to  their  religion— felt  a  chill  of  horror  in  the  imag-  phenomena, 
inary  presence  of  embuses  and  lamiae  at  the  mysteries  of  Thessalian,  Colchian,  and  Assyrian  Cazottk's  prediction. 
black  arts.    Equally  stultified  by  a  ghastly  dismay  was  that  illustrious  company  of  Paris  in 
1788,   those    scurrilous     merry-makers     assembled     with     Malesherbes,    Condorcet,    Bailly, 
Grammont— La  Harpe,  etc.,  to  whom  Cazotte  predicted  their  fate  of  1793. 

The  witchcraft  of  the  Middle  Ages,  of  which  Solden  gives  full  report  in  his  History,  de- 
monstrates the  terrors  of  old  pagan  rites  and  their  continuance  under  cover  of  Christian  cul- 
ture.   Hidden  depths  of  sinister  and  powerful  inflences  are  opening  and  give  vent  to  an  over-  Moral  darkness:    Orgie» 
flow  of  abominations.    The  combination  of  lust  and  bloodthirst  is  inexplicable  fronfany  or-  of  ''mysteries";  witch- 
der  of  things  or  other  natural  sources.    The  orgiastic  revelries  of  the  Mylitta  cult,  the  frantic 
ecstasies  of  Shamanism  among  the  Jacutes  is  more  than  unnatural.  When  they  become  "mer- 
gaetch,"  Wundt  classifies  them  with  the  hypnotised.    But  what  is  Hypnotism  ?    The  Hametzi-  Hvonotism 
ans  of  Vancouver  in  their  mad  dances  tear  pieces  out  of  the  bodies  of  the  spectators  with  Bastian,  Wundt!      i  &i. 
their  teeth,  presenting,  according  to  Jacobson  and  Bastian,  "  the  most  horrible  spectacle  im- 
aginable."   Bishop  Zumarraga  computed  the  number  of  human  sacrifices  among  the  Aztecs 


95 


THE  BAD  AND  "THE  LIE.' 


U.  A.  Ch.  VI.  §  40. 


Human  sacrifices  etc. 

ZUMABRAOA,  WaITZ, 

Pbsscott. 


The  Bad  in 
history.   §106,110, 

not  explicable  from 
natural  grounds. 

Dboysen  on  sin. 


Cultural  advance  and 
infernal  depravity 
keeping  pace. 


Refutation  of  false 
ideas  concerning  the 
Bad. 


The  Bad  will  not 
disappear  of  its  own 
accord. 


strategy. 


The  lie  (8  38)  is 
the  pliable  in- 
strument of  the 
Bad: 


lives  off  the  Good, 
proving  thereby  its 
own  reality  as  well  as 
that  of  its  opposite  . 


The  shelter  under 
which  nothing  but  the 
Bad  can  prosper.      §110. 


Doctrine  from  Piato  to 

ScHLKIkllACHEB. 

i  39,  41,  10{ 


contriviug  at  another 
than  Christian  cultus ; 


The  Bad  an 
"non-ens."  (?) 

Theories  making  light  of 
the  Bad ; 


at  about  twenty  thousand  annually.  Montezuma,  it  seems,  set  a  horrible  example.  In  his 
city  of  Tlascala  alone  800  victims  were  actually  butchered  at  one  particular  feast  every  year. 
Waitz  has  ascertained  that  the  dedicatory  ceremonies  of  the  main  temple  at  Tenochtitlon  re- 
quired 34,000  victims.  In  the  court-yard  of  the  Mexican  temple  stood  a  pyramid  of  136,000  hu- 
man skulls,  according  to  Prescott. 

Withal  that  the  "  Bad  "  has  scarcely  been  mentioned  as  yet. 

How  are  these  mysterious  phenomena  of  the  dark  sides  of  life  to  be  accounted 
for?    Facts  challenge  thought  which  defy  explanation  from  natural  grounds. 

According  to  Droysen  the  "  excretions  "  of  the  Bad  are  to  be  expected  as  natural 
consequences  of  civilisation.  He  takes  the  Bad,  like  Schiller,  poetically  ;  as  the  un- 
avoidable appendage  of  the  finite  mind ;  as  the  "  shadow  of  the  mind's  transciency, 
indispensable  for  the  appearance  of  the  Good,"  as  that  which  by  virtue  of  the  nature 
of  things  is  destined  to  annihilate  itself  and  to  disappear. 

Whenever  artificial  refinement  is  taken  for  civilisation,  so  that  under  this  self- 
delusion  of  a  period  with  high  literary  culture,  perhaps,  social  abnormities  are  palli- 
ated until  the  smooth  surface  bursts,  it  will  always  be  found  to  have  concealed  a 
more  than  brutal,  an  infernal  depravity.  And  this,  we  claim,  is  really  on  the  in- 
crease, rather  than  showing  a  tendency  to  diminish. 

Inspecting  even  the  praiseworthy  institutions  of  modern  humanitarianism,  all  the  dif- 
ferent asylums,  or  the  long  chain  of  prisons  filled  with  fallen  men  in  numbers  increasing,  we 
find  something  more  than  simply  delinquencies  of  human  nature :  or  when  looking  over  all 
the  misery  which  these  houses  contain,  besides  that  which  they  do  not  contain  and  which  in 
most  cases  is  self  inflicted,  we  find  something  worse  than  the  mere  reverse  side  or  the  foil  of 
the  Good.  In  the  face  of  all  these  dreadful,  dismal  phenomena,  does  it  still  seem  harsh  to  go 
to  the  bottom  of  the  matter  and  call  the  deficiency  by  its  right  name?  Or  are  those  men  to 
blame  and  to  be  gibed,  who  in  their  way  counteract  the  dark  powers  which  will  not  disappear 
of  their  own  accord?  Are  we  to  be  rebuked  if  we  find  something  infernal  working  under- 
neath history,  which  we  denounce  and  hate,  and  with  which,  because  of  the  havoc  wrought  by 
it,  to  compromise  in  any  form  we  indignantly  decline? 

The  single  true  phase  of  such  philosophy  as  that  of  Droysen  is  the  fact  that  the 
Bad  lives  by  its  opposition  to  the  Good.  The  Bad  is  something  which  is  ever  ready  to 
annihilate  anything  else  in  order  to  save  itself.  It  tries  at  least  to  maintain  itself  by 
blackening  what  is  noble,  if  it  can  imitate  it  no  longer;  or  by  palliating  its  ownob- 
noxiousness  in  order  to  justify  its  clamor  for  tolerance.  It  is  the  practice  of  those 
who  countenance  the  Bad,  to  calumniate  the  Good  under  the  hypocritical  garb  of 
moral  indignation  or  intellectual  seriousness:  it  is  the  strategy  of  the  Bad  thus  to 
mystify  the  unwary  and  inexperienced,  and  to  intimidate  and  scoff  at  those  who  will 
not  make  "allowances"  for  it.  There  is  always  that  shrewdness  connected  with  the 
Bad,  which  calls  superstitious  what  is  really  good  and  sacred,  and  calls  those  hypo- 
crites who  combat  it.  Thus  the  lie  is  the  pliable  instrument  of  the  Bad,  made  strong  by 
intermixing  some  truth  so  as  to  assume  to  itself  the  appearance  of  the  Good.  The  Bad 
lives  by  sapping  out  the  Good,  acting  as  tho  it  were  not  in  opposition  to,  but  in  uni- 
son and  sympathy  with  it.  Now  when  we  recognise  that  the  Bad  is  a  parasite,  which 
maintains  itself  at  the  expense  of  the  Good  by  sapping,  falsifying,  mystifying,  calum- 
niating and  denying  the  Good— then  we  acknowledge  the  reality  and  heterogeneity  of 
both  principles.  In  other  words  the  Bad  thereby  proves  what  it  intends  to  deny, 
namely,  its  own  existence  and  at  the  same  time  the  reality  and  life  of  its  opposite 
and  superior. 

Let  us  summarise.  From  Plato  to  Schleiermacher  it  has  been  taught  that  the 
Bad  was  something  which  had  no  reality,  a  nonentity:  or  something  which  is  merely 
not  good  as  yet.  It  was  regarded  as  something  which  would  disappear  as  soon  as  a 
new  form  of  culture,  other  than  the  Christian,  were  once  established,  as  Socialism 
makes  its  adherents  believe. 

If  this  were  the  case  the  Bad  would  be  innocent  enough  to  be  left  alone,  and  allowances 
might  be  made  for  it.  Then  it  would  be  wise  and  convenient  indeed,  to  become  reconciled  to 
the  Bad.  Then  the  partisan  of  the  Bad  might  be  excused  without  the  asking;  he  would  be  jus- 
tified in  following  his  own  inclinations,  under  the  pretense  that  such  was  his  religion ;  and 
the  Christian  moralist  would  be  the  most  contemptible  fanatic ;  Christianity,  in  fact,  would  be 
superfluous ;  to  provoke  the  revenge  of  the  Bad  would  not  only  be  folly,  but  a  downright  sin— 
and  thus,  they  claim,  all  the  depths  of  which  we  speak  would  be  shut  up.  The  energy  of  the 
Bad  would  then  be  only  imaginary,  a  theoretical  nuisance ;  it  would  lose  its  terror  by  the 
spreading  of  intelligence;   illumining  progress  and  progressive   prosperity  would  be  the 


n.  A.  CH.  VI.  §  41.  FALSE  PHILOSOPHY  REFUTED.  99 

natural  result.  It  was  a  French  philosopher  who  was  allowed  to  expound  this  philosophy  be- 
fore Frederic  the  Great.  ''Old  Fritz  •'  merely  answered:  "You  do  not  know  the  'canaille," 
and  the  philosophy  of  the  advocates  of  the  Bad  soon  after  was  realised  in  a  place  near  Ver- 
sailles with  a  vengeance.  Again  it  revives  under  the  fostering  care  of  such  as  overestimate 
popularity  and  who  certainly  must  have  an  interest  in  covering  up  rather  than  unmasking 
the  Bad,  or  of  such  as  utilise  it  by  dishing  it  out  in  spicy  and  sensational  reading  matter.  To 
all  such  sophistry  we  simply  give  the  lie. 

Others  ararue  that  the  Bad  originates  in  the  finiteness  or  sensuality  of  the  human  ascribed  to  man's 

°  "^  .  .  "^  sensuous,  or  to  bis 

being  as  sucli.    Then  it  would  have  to  be  considered  as  something  essentially  neces-  finite  nature, 
sary  for  every  individual  being,  because  everything  continues  to  be  finite.    Or  should 
the  Bad  be  identical  with  the  sensual  appetites?   It  then  would  be  as  necessary  as  in 
the  other  case,  since  man  continues  to  be  a  corporeal  being.    Under  both  of  these 
suppositions  the  Bad  would  have  to  be  recognised  as  a  necessary  momentum  in  the 
order  of  the  physical  and  ethical  cosmos.    It  would  have  to  be  explained  as  a  means 
designed  for  the  good  purpose  ;  as  the  principle  by  which  forces,  through  opposition, 
are  to  be  incited  to  higher  development,  that  is,  it  would  have  to  be  thought  identical  toXJorde^/oAngs^ 
with  the  great  natural  polarity,  and  would  be  "  THE  "  motive,  the  corresponding  pole 
of  the  Good  I    But  the  polar  tension  necessary  to  realise  progress  is  not  thinkable  as  t^  Bad  not  to  be 
something  contradictory  or  refractory.    The  stigmatic  mark  of  the  Bad  is  not  sim-  phTsicafpoiari'ties;* 
ply  a  derogatory  negation  ;  neither  does  the  concept  of  the  sensuous  or  of  the  finite 
indicate  anything  bad  on  account  of  its  limitation.  In  contrast  to  finiteness  it  is  one 
of  the  chief  characteristics  of  the  Bad  that  it  maintains  the  most  stubborn  persist- 
ence.   It  ever  tends  to  detriment,  destruction,  annihilation.    It  never  "  does  any  .^  ^^^  ^^^  ^^.^ , 
good."    Hence  we  repudiate  the  schemes  which  dare  to  render  the  Bad  the  mere  re-  which  the  Good 
verse  side  of  the  Good,  or  the  foil  which  is  to  give  the  Good  its  brilliancy.    We  de-  bri^ifSnt^^ 
nounce  the  allegory  which  is  to  represent  the  Bad  as  merely  the  shadow  of  the  paint- 
ing, necessary  for  making  the  figures  appear  plastic  ;  for  if  the  painting  of  history,  out,*by  w^^/Tco^nÄ, 
that  is  to  say,  its  true  reality,  would  depend  upon  the  Bad,  then  this  would  have  to  be  featuresAlstlry. 
taken  for  the  plastic  principle  of  personality  also.    Then  the  monstrosities  and  cari- 
catures, in  their  particular  instances,  would  have  to  be  adopted  as  the  good  products 
of  the  Bad,  to  which  the  normal  formations  were  owing  their  significance.    Abnorm- 
ities would  be  prerequisites  of  history,  and  essential  premises  for  its  explanation. 

Leibnitz  made  use  of  all  that  shadow-philosophy,  absurd  as  it  seems,  in  the  construction 
of  his  "best  of  all  the  worlds."    He  needed  that  mixture  to  a  degree  almost  of  identifying  madeo^fThe*'foii''and" 
the  Good  with  the  Bad,  insomuch  as  the  discords  are  needed  in  the  composition  of  musical  shadow  theory. 
colors— as  much  as  Rothe  needed  it  for  the  definition  of  morality. 

It  is  odd,  when  after  all,  one  becomes  almost  persuaded  even  by  Schopenhauer,  that  the 
Bad  is  founded  in  the  order  of  yonder  world,  just  as  Schelling  made  it  ascend  from  the  ob-   pg^f"  °f  *^®  ^*'* ''^  **** 
scure  chasm  which  yawns  in  the  nature  of  the  deity  !  Scheluno,  Schopknhatob 

§  41.  The  Bad  is  now  acknowledged  as  that  which  detached  itself  from  universal 
order  and  which,  in  opposition  to  it,  hides  and  seeks  to  maintain  itself.  Despite  its 
subterfuges  it  stands  convicted  as  something  very  real.  It  is  unmasked  as  a  power 
which  unfolds  itself  and  had  no  need  of  being  especially  revealed  because  it  reveals, 
or  rather  betrays,  itself  in  the  sphere  of  personal  life,  and  in  the  form  of  evils  throws 
Its  shadows  also  upon  nature.  Its  shadows  are  darkest  in  that  portion  of  nature  and  of 
history  which  is  nearest  to  its  light  and  crown.  It  is  a  power  which  presses  so  hard  upon 
consciousness,  and  which  leaves  traces  upon  it  and  all  pertaining  to  it  so  deep,  that  it  "veTifiteeir^^^**'"'** 
can  not  be  laughed  or  sung  away,  nor  stifled  by  ignoring  it. 

That  "anxious  suspense   resulting  from  the  Bad,  Lotze  observes,    is  rendered  the 
more  distinct,  the  more  the  consciousness  disowns  guilt  under  excuse  of  natural  de- 
ficiencies. Denial  oppresses  so  much  the  worse,  because  man  becomes  the  more  vivid- 
ly conscious  that  the  excuse  is  not  true,  since  mere  deficiency  can  be  overcome  "Anxious^ 
through  the  superiority  of  the  mental  part  by  education  and  selfculture,  whilst  guilt  L^zi*^"^^* 
and  fear  can  only  be  taken  away  by  a  higher  liberation  of  the  mind".    This  emanci- 
pation will  have  to  proceed  in  accord  with  the  truth,  and  on  the  strength  of  the 
spirit's  reaction  against  the  suspense  by  ceasing  to  submit  to  selfdeception,  by  ceas-  SSäto'SflJ^ttie®* 
ing  to  identify  wickedness  with  weakness,  and  by  earnestly  seeking  that  which  sets  consdenc*e,\ut  only 
consciousness  at  peace.    Thus  the  proper  discrimination  is  formulated  which  must  be  shS/the  d?ffTrence 
made  between  natural  deficiencies  and  the  tendencies  of  pseudo-culture.  SedSels!**^^''  *''* 

It  is  chiefly  through  the  latter  that  the  power  of  the  Bad  endeavors,  and  at  great  lengths 
succeeds,  to  maintain  itself  by  establishing  subterfuges  of  its  being  necessary,  or  convenient, 


100 


THE  "  ANXIOUS  SUSPENSE.  "—LOTZE. 


n  A.  Ch.  VI.  §  41. 


Denial 

makes  sin  the  more 
flagrant  and  aggravates 
guilt.  g  11.  12,  109. 


Conscience  is  but 
manifesting"  the 
right  of  the  Good 
to  reclaim  man 
for  the  enjoy- 
ment of  its 
reality. 


It  arises  from  unreflect- 
ed  consciousness, 
awakens  the  sleeping 
soul,  reclaims  man  for 
the  pursuit  of  his 
destiny,  demands 
expiation.  §  11. 

WuTTW.  8  108,  157. 


Drotsen  and  Buckle  on 

physical  origin 

of  the  Bad ;    Rothe's 
referring  it  to  the  moral 
realm. 


Indestructibility 
of  the  moral 
element. 


Materialistic 
attempts  to 
destroy  the  ideals 
and  to  supplant 
them  by  other 
regulatives,  only 
serve  the  firmer 
to  establish 
the  Good,  the 
True  and  the 
Beautiful. 


What  the  Bad  is 
not. 


It  is  a  will. 


Ethical  conduct  not  to 
be  based  on  mere 
intellectualism. 


What  the  Good  is. 


or  indifferent,  or  insignificant;  if  it  does  not  even  with  an  affected  naivete  insist  upon  its  util- 
ity. But  the  lie  is  nailed  fast  tho  it  ever  more  tightly  encoils  the  very  person  who  seeks  the 
false  excuse,  or  who  tries  to  shift  the  fault  upon  something  or  somebody  else,  or  who  would 
screen  himself  behind  ignorance.  Such  attempts  only  betray  the  culprit's  consciousness  of 
the  fact,  that  the  guilt  becomes  the  clearer  to  him  the  more  he  dodges  the  inner  reproach,  or 
rejects  the  verdict  which  holds  him  responsible  for  his  clinging  to  the  Bad. 

Innocence  or  excusable  ignorance  become  the  more  distinguishable  from  guilt,  and  re- 
fuse to  be  mixed  up  with  it,  or  to  serve  as  screens,  the  more  emphatically  the  denial  of  the 
wrong  manifests  its  wickedness. 

If  now  an  "emancipated  mind",  which  describes  conscience  as  a  coward,  would 
call  that  "anxious  suspense"  of  Lotze  imaginary,  or  a  thing  with  which  superstitious 
ignorance  alone  troubles  itself— then  the  questions  arise:  Who  or  what  is  it,  that 
coerces  consciousness  to  institute  an  inspection  of  those  misgivings?  What  is  it  that, 
in  spite  of  philosophical  self  absolution,  conducts  an  objective,  undaunted,  investiga- 
tion? Who  is  that  incorruptible  prosecuting  attorney,  whose  truthful  evidences 
avails  with  the  culprit  to  own  his  guilt?  That  anxious  suspense,  this  despondency  of 
the  mind,  can  not  for  ever  be  tyrannised  by  simulated  courage  of  dissembling  know- 
nothingism.  It  is  such  a  counterforce  as  seems  to  afifect  man  antagonistically, 
whilst  ultimately  it  only  manifests  the  right  of  the  Good  to  reclaim  man  for  partici- 
pating in  the  enjoyment  of  its  reality. 

Whenever  this  witness  of  the  Good  reappears  from  the  realm  of  unrefleeted  con- 
sciousness to  testify  against  the  Bad,  it  stirs  up  dreaming  souls  to  such  awaken- 
ings, that  as  empiric  facts  millions  of  bloody  sacrifices  are  made  in  answer  to  the 
crying  demands  of  expiation  I 

If  Droysen's  assertion  were  correct  that  with  cultural  rearrangement,  or  Buckle's,  that 
with  proper  food,  the  bad  would  disappear  from  history,  then  we  would  have  to  lay  aside  the 
Good  as  the  standard  rule  for  measuring  historic  value ;  and  as  with  the  Good,  so  it  would  be 
with  the  right  and  the  beautiful,  both  implied  therein.  If  these  are  really  ideal  and  not  mere 
PHYSICAL  qualities,  then  the  Bad,  too,  must  be  referred  to  the  department  of  mokal  concepts, 
where  it  is  to  help  us,  by  the  comparison  of  the  contrast,  to  define  the  boundaries  of  morality. 
This  was  the  true  element,  and  most  probably  the  meaning  in  Rothe's  exposition  of  the  Bad 
as  something  moral. 

Into  whatever  fashion  humanity  may  develop,  never  will  it  come  to  pass,  that  a 
tendency  will  gain  the  victory,  which  would  despoil  those  moral  qualities  of  the 
Good,  the  True,  and  the  Beautiful  of  their  ideal  contents. 

Materialism  in  this  as  in  every  other  respect,  signifies  no  more  than  an  interven- 
ing episode,  recurring  in  order  to  remind  the  human  mind  of  the  difficulty  of  ap- 
proaching its  ideals.  Never  can  materialism  for  any  length  of  time  discourage  the 
mind  in  its  aspirations  toward  realising  them.  Ill-tempered  about  the  difficulty, 
man  may  for  a  time  become  so  exasperated  as  to  undertake  the  destruction  of  these 
ideals.  But  soon  he  sobers  down  again,  and  in  turn  begins  anew  to  reconstruct  the 
fabric  of  the  ideal  world,  the  image  of  which  is  profoundly  imprinted  into  his  entire 
being.  After  each  of  such  general  smash-ups  he  searches  for  a  broader,  deeper  and 
more  solid  foundation,  and  for  less  destructible  material  to  complete  the  edifice  of 
social  welfare,  and  to  secure  its  future  safety.  The  structure  becomes  more  firmly 
joined  together  in  proportion  as  the  ideals  of  moral  excellency  are  more  generally 
appreciated  and  taken  hold  of,  and  as  the  ever  threatening  dangers  become  known  the 
better. 

The  Bad  is  to  be  apprehended  as  more  than  the  not-yet-being  of  the  Good;  as  more 
than  a  shadow;  as  more  than  a  discord;  as  worse  than  a  deficiency.  It  is  more  than  a 
"negative  principle."    It  is  a  positive  reality.    The  Bad  is  a  will. 

And  it  is  an  act  of  the  will,  a  manifestation  of  its  freedom,  if  one  has  the  courage 
of  his  conviction,  not  to  shield  this  arbitrariness  of  the  will  by  frivolously  miscon- 
struing the  reality  or  sublimating  the  essence  of  the  Bad.  Of  course,  it  takes  a 
strength  greater  than  the  headstrong  perverseness  of  the  human  empiric  will  to 
unmask  the  Bad  and  to  face  it,  instead  of  yielding  to,  or  compromising  with  it. 

Ethical  conduct  can  not  be  based  upon  intellectualism;  it  must  be  based  upon 
the  will. 

The  Good,  on  the  other  hand,  can  not  be  reduced  to  a  fortuitous  coincidence  of 
happy  circumstances  at  the  beginning,  and  to  subsequent  hereditary  transmission. 
This  would  amount  to  no-  more  than  an   external   correctness  without  any  per-- 


II.  A.  CH.  §  41.  THE  APOSTASY  AND  THE  CATASTROPHE.  •  101 

eonal  merit.  Morality  put  on  from  the  outside  is  but  ä  caricature  of  the  "mos"  of 
the  Romans  which  even  they  conceived  as  containing  an  inner  motive.  Morality  as 
well  as  its  opposite  has  its  source  and  seat  in  the  innermost  depths  of  personal  nature  Morality  put  on  from 

^^  *^  *^  outside  had  no  value 

in  a  pristine  will.    It  can  only  be  determined  upon  by  a  converted,  that  is  by  a  freed  ^»t*»  **>«  Romans. 
will:  audits  contents,  the  Good,  can  only  be  maintained  and  preserved  by  resisting,  and 
conquering  the  Bad. 

The  perverse  will  betrays  itself  by  the  unwillingness  to  engage  in  this  combat.  It  is 
prone  to  do  the  Bad,  or  at  least  to  secretly  adhere  to  it,  to  sympathise  with  it,  or  to  negotiate 
with  it,  that  is,  to  try  the  realisation  of  the  lie.  The  explanation  of  its  origin  and  the  de-  StKerverse  wur** 
monstration  of  its  malicious  intent  must  be  postponed,  until  we  have  found  the  actual  confir- 
mation of  that,  which  at  the  present  stage  of  the  investigation  could  only  be  conjectured,  We 
must  first  gather  up  the  facts  issuing  from  the  bad  will.  In  the  mean  time  each  may  look  origin  to\'e  postponed. 
within  himself  for  the  proofs  of  our  presumed  axiom  concerning  the  will  and  its  entangle-  *  *^'  i"*'  l^^-  ^l^- 

ment  with  the  Bad. 

From  what  has  been  demonstrated  so  far,  we  stand,  to  all  appearances,  before  a 
great  depression,  before  a  deplorable  descension,  a  steep  incline— before  a  veritable 
sink. 

Of  the  proclivity  toward  moral  baseness,  which  pervades  the  combination  of  hu- 
man nature,  abundant  proof  is  extant ;  the  deterioration  of  the  whole  world  of  na- 
tions depicts  the  depravity  of  human  nature  sadly  enough.  The  entanglement  of 
the  evils  with  the  bad  ever  manifests  itself  in  one  way  or  another.  We  hear  com- 
plaints about  it  as  of  a  conflict,  a  discord,  a  turbulence,  a  passion  affecting  all  hu-  essentially 
man  relation  at  every  stage  of  culture  and  in  every  age.  But  the  complaints  also  huma?natu^e. 
divulge  the  truth  that  the  Bad  is  alien  to  human  nature,  that  it  belongs  not  to  its  §  ^^'  200,  '202. 

type. 

Somewhere,  at  some  time,  a  rupture  must  have  happened  that  caused  a  general  originated  in  the 
upsetting,  a  complete  ruination.    There  alone  can  we  seek  for  the  origin  of  all  the  p'^SoÄLtence*''*""'' 
dilemmas  encumbering  our  problem.    Only  from  such  an  occasion  is  it  possible  to  « "®- 

derive  the  disfigurement  of  all  ideals,  to  account  for  the  perversion  of  all  blessings 
destined,  for  man,  and  to  explain  that  incessant  detachment  and  estrangement  which 
tends  to  utter  dissoluteness.  So  humiliating  is  this  degradation  that,  a  few  serious 
thinkers  excepted,  men  would  not  even  touch  upon  this  open  sore  of  humanity.  seifknowiedge  impo«. 

,  sible  until  sin  is  fully 

How  this  sinking  could  have  commenced,  and  why  it  should  have  occurred  in  the  spirit-  known  and  confessed. 
ual  sphere  of  existence,  from  whence  we  become  conscious  of  it  in  the  feeling  of  guilt,  has  ^     •     •     >     •      •  Jj^» 
been  previously  alluded  to  and  will  be  ascertained  more  explicitly  further  on,  when  profound 
seifknowiedge  shall  have  been  rendered  possible. 

Schelling,  with  reference  to  this  problem  and  with  deep  insight  came  to  the  conclusion 
that  "the  human  race  could  not  as  yet  have  left  the  stage  of  its  nearest  family  or  tribal  rela-  Rupture  occurred  prior 
tions  prior  to  the  exceedingly  more  developed  national  relations,  when  it  underwent  that  n°ationaii  r^T^  °* 
crisis."  It  was  a  break  so  portentous»     and  there  ensued  changes  so  thorough-going,  that  we  Schellino. 
can  place  the  disaster  nowhere  else  but  at  that  point  of  the  consciousness  from  whence  all  the 
faculties   emanate   as   their  common  focus.    The  reason  for  this  statement  we  derive  from 
the  fact  that  the  differences  of  nations  cannot  be  thought  of  without  different  languages; 
and  language  is  something  spiritual. 

A  confusion  of  languages  cannot  be  thought  of  unless  considered  as  an  internal  in  the  sphere  of 

,  .  a  '  ».!■.  .  con«!ciousness  as  ] 

event ;  hence  a  distraction  of  consciousness  must  be  acknowledged  as  preceding  the  ^y  the  tongues. 
break  of  human  unity,  the  fractured  condition  of  the  race.    What  preceded  the  es- 
trangement of  the  human  family  and  its  separation  must  have  been  a  violent  upset- 
ting of  the  fundamental  parts  and  vital  principles  of  which  human  nature  consists,  before^the^confu- 
A  historical  catastrophe  must  have  occurred;  a  manifestation  of  preternatural  sionof  language, 
depravity.    A  rebellion,  a  scandal,  a  crime  must  have  been  the  cause  of  the  shock  ^     . 

.  Consciousness  deranged. 

which  deranged  consciousness  to  its  very  foundations,  and  benumbed  the  feelings  to  ^y  the  effects  of  the 

..      .  .  shocking  event. 

their  very  core,  to  that  center  which  was  to  maintain  the  union  of  mankind.    The 

spiritual  relationship  was  torn  asunder.    The  God-consciousness  left  after  the  first  Spiritual  reia- 

great    calamity  must  have   been    utterly  corrupt  ere  the  sense   of  shame  could  asunder.  ^^"* 

have  become  lost  so  far  as  not  to  be  able  any  longer  to  restrain  man  from  the  base 

deed,  and  ere  the  feeling  of  guilt  could  thus  have  been  trifled  with.    No  other  but  this 

hypothesis  explains  the  situation.    After  tearing  up  happy  relations  and  falling 

away  from  a  glorious  destiny,  departure  after  departure  was  taken.    Man  fell  back 

under  the  law  of  inferior  nature  where  detachment  is  the  order.  Faint  recollections  of  nessutteriy*"^' 

a  lost  state  of  blissfulness,  and  faint  conceptions  of  a  glorious  destiny,  now  receded  corrupted. 

into  a  dim  distance.    This  the  fugitives  took  along  with  them,  together  with  a  few 


102 


PRIMITIVE  MONOTHEISM. 


IL  A.  Ch.  VI.  §  42. 


Humanity  fell  to  the 
sphere  where  detach- 
ment is  the  order  of 
things. 


A  catastrophe  previous 
to  the  dispersion. 


The  old  way  of 

explaining 

heathenism. 


Descension  from 
Monotheism         §  54,  53. 


instead  of  evolution 
from  Fetishism. 

BUBNOUF,  EbBARD, 

Bbcqsch,  Cushins. 

Evidence  of 

religious 

degeneracy 

in  Mexico. 
Pbkscoit. 


Savagery  not  the 
primitive  state. 


Catastrophe  broke  up 

the  race. 

W.  V.  Humboldt. 


Indications  as  to 
the  great 
•calamity.       §  109. 


Original  God-conscious- 
'  ness,  overshadowed  by 
•world-consciousness ; 


its  remnant  conscience. 
815. 


Conscience 

overshadowed 


«till  raminds 
returning 

(Erinnerung) 
ft-oni  the  periphery 
■to  the  center. 

(Verinnerung.) 


of 


symbolic  ordinances  as  old  and  sacred  but  fading  family-heirlooms.  Entirely  miscon- 
ceiving their  original  destiny,  they  pursued  the  goal  of  blessedness  in  a  wrong  direc- 
tion. At  their  birth  the  nations  started  down  the  steep  incline.  The  sphere  of 
sinking  expanded,  the  falling  away  into  deeper  demoralisation  accelerated  at  the  rate 
of  geometrical  progression. 

Since  for  good  reasons  we  made  the  fractured  portions  of  humanity  analogous  to 
geological  strata  and  conglomerates,  we  are  justified  to  suppose  the  cause  at  bottom 
of  that  sunken  condition  as  being  analogous  to  a  previous  eruption. 

During  the  last  thirty  years  the  idea  of  a  downward  tendency  of  religious  cognitions, 
instead  of  evolving  Monotheism  from  Fetishism,  has  evidently  gained  ground.  Since  Burnouf 
recommended  to  fall  back  upon  the  old  way  of  explaining  heathenism  (in  the  Revue  du  deux 
mondes,  1864),  many  have  found  it  passable.  Ebrard's  demonstration  of  the  truth  of  religious 
degradation  from  original  purity  (1874)  stands  unchallenged,  despite  M.  Mueller's  attempt  to 
theologise  upon  the  "Origin  of  Religion." 

Brugsch  some  years  ago  established  original  Monotheism  from  .IJgyptology ;  and  subse- 
quently v.  Langegg  brought  out  the  original  Monotheism  of  the  Chinese.  We  hardly  need  refer 
to  the  history  of  the  Church  in  the  fourth  century  as  the  most  striking  example  of  the  quick 
deformation  of  religion  pure  and  simple.  And  another  instance  of  later  date  has  been  averred 
by  Cushing.  His  investigation  warrants  the  supposition  that  the  Zuni-Indians,  showing  traces 
of  Monotheism,  are  descendants  of  that  highly  cultured  Toltec-Aztecian  nation  which  used  to 
rule  from  Chile  to  the  Salt  Lake  regions.  Prescott  already  was  of  the  opinion  that  their  human 
sacrifices  commenced  not  earlier  than  about  two  centuries  before  the  conquest  of  Mexico.  It 
is  now  established  as  a  fact,  that  previous  to  this  period  the  Mexicans  offered  flowers.  The 
fact  of  original  Monotheism  might  be  corroborated  by  hundreds  of  weighty  quotations  but 
the  time  draws  near  when  any  such  defence  of  our  axiom  will  be  antiquated. 

Savagery  was  not  the  pristine  state  of  the  human  family.  Quite  the  contrary  is 
true.  "It  is,"  so  we  say  with  W.  v.  Humboldt,  "the  state  of  a  fast  extinguishing 
society,  resulting  from  a  disastrous  subversion  of  things  in  general.  This  must  have 
been  preceded  by  a  deplorable  catastrophe  which  broke  up  the  race  and  caused  it  to 
weaken  and  to  wander." 

In  what  way  could  this  portentous  and  ruinous  accident,  preceding  the  disaster, 
have  been  wrought? 

§42.  Primitive  God -consciousness  must  have  been  the  same  in  every  person, 
uniting  them  all.  It  was  a  unit  in  itself,  paramount  to  the  unit  of  the  first  man 
whom  we  consider  as  the  common  root  of  the  race  because  of  its  common  God-consci- 
ousness. It  must  have  consisted  in  a  deep  immediate  cognition,  a  vision-like  and 
pure  conception  of  God,  and  it  was  a  gift. 

In  primitive  Monotheism  (Ur-Monotheismus)  which  the  Germans  deem  established 
through  archaeology,  comparative  philology,  and  the  philosophy  of  religions,  man  found  him- 
self enwrapped,  as  it  were,  in  the  enjoyment  of  the  tasks  enjoined  upon  him  together  with 
these  gifts.  That  form  of  consciousness  must  of  necessity  vanish  like  a  sun-set  as  soon  as 
man's  central  vision  is  changed  to  different  views,  to  relative  blindness.  Darkening  is  the 
sight  of  the  would-be-God,  when  for  the  first  time  he  observes  his  condition  and  finds  himself 
much  like  an  animal,  creeping  out  of  sight.  Sequent  to  doubt  and  disobedience  his  cordiality 
to  his  partner,  part  of  himself,  turns  to  brutality,  because  of  his  being  held  responsible  for 
what  is  going  on  in  the  family.  And  with  the  suavity  of  family  affections  his  whole  existence 
becomes  disruptured. 

Of  the  primitive  God-consciousness,  every  man  carries  a  remnant  within  himself 
as  his  conscience,  as  the  point  of  connection  where  union  may  be  re-established.  It 
is  personal,  but  it  holds  equal  sway  over  all,  because  it  partakes  of  the  nature  of  the 
spiritual  world  whose  character  we  found  to  consist  in  formal  unity  under  material 
diversity,  that  is,  personal  multiplicity.  This  great  preservative  gift  remained  with 
man  throughout  all  the  vicissitudes  of  his  progressing  degeneracy.  When  mankind 
entered  into  the  diverse  and  complicated  relations  multiplying  with  the  descending 
stages  of  worldly  life,  world-consciousness  began  to  compress  the  remnant  of 
God-consciousness  to  the  hardness  and  stuntedness  of  a  "rudimentary  organ." 

Yet  that  weak  remnant,  on  the  strength  of  its  belonging  to  the  realm  of  indissolubi- 
lity, proves  ever  strong  enough  to  take  care  of  man's  interest  which  he  neglected.  It 
thus  remains  his  reminder  (die  Er-inne-rung),  the  witness  of  original  and  universal 
revelation,  and  shows  to  him  in  the  darkness  the  way  back  to  clearer  God-conscious- 
ness. One  remembrance  after  another  reviving,  a  cognition  of  reconciliation 
brightens  up,  until  by  way  of  intensifying  religiousness  (Ver-inne-rung)  the  mind  is 
gradually  led  to  return  from  the  manifold  to  the  One. 


II.  A.  Ch.  VL  §  42.       SELFMADE  RELIGIONS— ATTEMPTS  AT  SELFSALVATION.  108 

In  God-consciousness,  what  there  is  left  of  it,  the  unity  of  mankind  is  warranted.  Even 
the  weak  remnant  of  it  prompts  man  to  return  from  diversion  upon  the  periphery  toward  the 
center,  so  that  instead  of  losing^  himself  into  the  manifold,  the  reunion  with  the  One,  conse- 
quently with  all  men,  may  be  established. 

Herein  the  history  of  the  religions  of  mankind  consists,  provided  our  proposition  is  cor- 
rect—which we  still  hold  to  be  hypothetical— that  the  "I  Am"  is. 

In  order  to  fully  appreciate  the  reconstructive  efforts  as  prompted  by  conscience, 
we  must  enlarge  somewhat  on  the  consequences  of  the  apostasy.    The  communion 
with  the  center  of  the  divine  colierency  being  rent  asunder,  affects  not  only  man's  inner 
nature:  For  from  him  as  the  apex  of  nature,  the  disrupture  extends  to  all  that  exter- 
nally belongs  to  him.    Nature,  in  keeping  its  true  course,  seems  to  revolt  against 
him,  because  it  does  not,  on  account  of  man's  eccentricity,  cease  to  revolve  around  its 
great  center,  the  Creator.   Man,  appointed  to  be  the  lord  of  nature,  becomes  its  de- 
pendent and  serf.  Rebellion  is  retaliated  by  rebellion.  It  is  now  felt  to  be  a  great  loss  -vorhat  is  left  of 
what  a  great  lie  had  promised  to  be  a  great  gain.    Man  is  now  conscious  of  being  left  original  God- 
to  his  own  self,  of  being  deprived  of  his  contentment  (the  root  of  which  word  means  alone  warrants 
"to  hold  together")  deprived  of  harmony  within  himself  and  of  communication  with  Jhl  human"race. 
the  deity.    This  deprivation  as  now  held  forth  to  consciousness  proves  the  most  mor- 
tifying of  all  its  loneliness  and  its  losses.    Man  feels  himself  lost  in  an  oppressive  Contentment.  ^^ 
silence,  in  solitude  with  that  still  small  voice  for  his  nearest  companion,  which  now  j^^^  losses 
is  going  to  take  care  of  him  in  a  peculiar  way;  he  finds  himself  alone  under  the  pangs 
of  self  reproach  for  being  at  variance  with  his  destiny. 

Henceforth  man's  self  consciousness  sustains  gradual    changes.     The   eye   of  seifreproach. 
humanity,  open  for  unity  as  long  as  it  was  not  entirely  abnormal,  stares  away  into 
an  empty  distance  as  under  an  epileptic  spasm.    It  opens  to  meet  the  multiplicity  in 
conflict  and  to  seek  diversion  therein,  in  order  to  pacify  the  mind.    And  the  mind 
became  absorbed,  indeed,  by  the  beautiful  things  of  the  realm  of  the  secondary  Good ;  consciousness  diverted 
man  works  hard  for  his   momentary  enjoyment,  regardless  of  the  unsatisfactory  in  the  nmitipucity. 
pleasures  they  yield  ;  he  goes  to  the  eccentricity  of  deifying  these  things. 

Thus  Polytheism  is  created,  wherein  man  instinctively  attempts  to  make  up  for  Deification  of 
godliness  in  his  own  ways.    To  make  up  for  union  lost,  he  will  create  a  world-empire,  g^rts  of  the 
To  make  up  for  lost  dominion  over  nature  and  for  his  loss  of  possessing  the  world,  he 
sets  himself  to  either  rule  or  ruin,  and  to  gain  the  world  in  spite  of  Heaven,  trying,  p^^  ^^  .  ^ 
at  the  same  time,  to  claim  Heaven  his  own  as  a  matter  of  right. 

The  main  feature  of  selfmade  religion  then  becomes  apparent :— the  mixture  of 
true  elements  of  the  religious  sense  with  phantastic  outgrowths  of  a  frightened  imag-  Exertions  in 
ination  and  of  superstitious  ignorance.  seifsawation. 

Memories  of  a  once  blissful  state  are  mingled  with  wrong  aspirations  to  happi- 
ness, the  loss  of  which  man  tries  to  retrieve  by  satisfying  sensual  appetites  and  wild 
passions.    The  sacred  traditions,  rites  and  symbols,  recognised  as  the  old  family-  The  family- 
heirloom  altho  their  meaning  being  lost,  are  mixed  in  with  those  "different  views"  ^^^^i^^"*- 
which  perceive  God  as  being  in  bad  humor  and  needing  to  be  made  good;to  which  relig-  traditinn,  rites  ctc- 

^  "^  .  .  *="  o  7  o      mixed  into  a  selfmade 

ion  seems  to  be  all  wrong  and  man  all  right ;  on  strength  of  which  man  attempts  to  religion 

justify  and  to  save  himself  by  blaming  something  else  with  being  at  fault.  instrumental  in 

Such  is  the  history  of  heathendom,  ancient  and  modern.  ^^^^^"^^l^e^A? "i. 

Man,  stunned  by  the  fall,  wanders  as  in  a  daze  into  exile.    Self  consciousness  sue-  Heathendom  ancient 
cumbs  to  worldliness  and  man  becomes  bewildered  like  a  sheep  lost  in  a  desert;  and  modem. 

Gnosticism  of  old  witnesses  how  the  various  forms  of  idolatry  were  intermixed 
by  minds,  which  had  allowed  themselves  to  become  inveigled  and  put  in  the  fetters  Pantheism.    §  54. 
of  carnal  propensities  from  which  they  were  now  trying  to  extricate  themselves.  The 
result  was  a  compound  of  polytheistic  naturalism  and  Pantheism. 

Of  the  precipitate  of  a  sunken  consciousness; of  the  diversion  of  the  mind'into  ex-  SaJ^b^tween'^poiy*"'^^ 
ternals;  of  the  departure  from  the  center  of  life  toward  the  indistinct  and  hazy  peri-  »i»«'^™ '^'^d  Pantheism. 
phery;  of  inner  estrangement  followed  by  exterior  dissolution  and  dismemberment,  ^t^empt^lt" 
dissipation  and  derangement;  Pantheism,  even  in  the  garb  of  its  aristocratic  and  dis-  restoring  the  lost 
sembling  indifference,  will  ever  be  the  refined  sublimate  and  final  product.  union, 

Pantheism,  always  in  keeping  with  its  precedents,  is  to  be  defined  as  the  ever  re-  JiaJJra^i"^™  ^^ 
iterated  attempt  to  restore  the  lost  union  under  the  form  of  natural  generalness,  that  generainess. 
is,  in  the  sphere  of  "material  unity  with  mere  formal  diversity." 

This  is  the  self  confession  of  humanity  before  the  bar  of  history  as  confided  to  its  &!ifr^li?,".?ti,« 
most  sacred  records.  ba^of  hTstory 


104 


ERRONEOUS  VIEWS  AS  TO  THE  "SECONDARY  GOOD."     II.  A.  CH.  VI.  §  43. 


Empiric  proof  of  the 
centrifugal  downward 
tendency. 


Secondary  Good  not  at 
fault  in  our 
disappointments - 


God -consciousness 
being  deranged,  man 
becomes  inveigled  in 
world-consciousness. 


Tisible  things  seem 
nearer  to  men  and 
more  necessary 


Certain  frightful 
shadows  arise 

from  the  dissolute 
duality  of  the  inner 
man.        §49,54,55,109. 


Demonolatry. 


Idols 

inadvertantly 
established  as 

centers  of 
cohesion. 

§  26,  46,  61,  74,  75,  79, 
114,133,  177. 

Polytheism  instrumental 
in  self  preservation.    §61. 

Reminiscenses  of 
orig-inal  unity, 
dominion,  of  the 
Supreme  Good, 
of  immortality. 

§   47,55. 

Deification  of  the  state 
and  its  representative. 

8  78. 


Cognition  of 
personality  lost 

with  the  consciousness 
of  one  personal  God 

whilst  all  possible 
idiosyncrasies  are 
personified.  g  45 


Superstition 
must  for  the  time 
being  serve  as  a 
preservative. 


§  43.  Our  own  life  affords  plentiful  empirical  evidence  to  prove  the  truth  of  our 
inferential  judgment.  From  the  earliest  awakenings  of  our  own  consciousness — 
hedged  in  by  juvenile  trustfulness,  and  enchanted  by  continual  surprise  and  amaze- 
ment —as  soon  as  the  incipient  intellect  is  set  free  and  thought  becomes  intensified, 
we  may  observe  a  posteriori  how  we  ourselves  take  the  downward  course,  and  how  we 
follow  the  centrifugal  tendency  in  proportion  to  our  consciousness  becoming  distract- 
ed by  the  multitude  of  outside  impressions.  With  the  increase  of  self  made  wants^ 
and  in  spite  of  their  gratification,  dissatisfaction  grows.  The  mind  yearns  for  things 
pleasing,  for  contentment,  bliss  and  rest,  ever  striving  after  something  better.  Seek- 
ing the  Good  in  the  wrong  direction,  seeking  happiness  in  outward  circumstances, 
we  find  fault  with  the  temporal  and  sensuous  objects;  tho  being  good  in  themselves, 
our  disappointments  are  charged  against  them.  Whilst  man  becomes  aware  of  his 
dependency  upon  the  lower  world,  he  begins  to  feel  his  relationship  to  the  higher. 
Yet  he  imagines  the  visible  things  nearer  to  him,  and  they  seem  to  him  more  necessary. 
He  tries  to  court  the  favor  of  his  "good  luck"  and  to  cultivate  more  favorable  circum- 
stances. From  creation  he  selects  surrogates  for  the  almost  forgotten  and  distant 
"higher  being".  He  allows  himself  to  become  inflated  on  account  of  "his"  gifts  and 
ceases  to  be  thankful  to  the  giver.  He  symbolises  the  qualities  of  created  things  and 
then  addresses  his  worship  to  the  symbols.  Devoting  himself  to  the  service  of  what 
was  intended  to  serve  him  as  the  ethical  apparatus,  he  allows  himself  to  become  sub- 
ject to  superstition.  Stricken  with  paralysis,  as  it  were,  he  is  almost  unable  to  use 
the  apparatus,  and  becomes  not  only  nature-bound,  but  finds  himself  under  the  bond- 
age of  strong  appetites,  of  wrong  passions  and  of  demoniac  fears  in  addition.  Man 
then  becomes  frightened,  moreover,  by  certain  shadows  arising  from  the  unknown 
depths  of  his  dual,  and  now  also  dissolute,  nature.  Seeking  in  error,  getting  con- 
fused, terrified  by  inimical  powers,  he  attempts  to  conciliate  or  to  bribe  them.  Poly- 
theism thus  runs  out  into  demonolatry.  And  yet  man's  inner  nature,  tho  entirely  out 
of  joint,  never  ceases  to  reach  out  for  something  above.  Not  knowing  the  meaning  of 
all  that  haunts  him  on  one  side  and  entices  him  on  the  other,  he  is  kept  from  sinking 
below  the  degree  of  recovery. 

Polytheism,  embodying  pantheistical  misconceptions  of  the  ideal  in  symbols  and 
finally  in  idols,  is  to  be  understood  in  every  case  as  that  phase  of  the  dilemma,  when 
people,ia  their  discomfiture  dreaming  and  trembling,  establish  idols  involuntarily  as  centers  of 
coherency,  so  as  not  to  become  lost  entirely  in  the  perpetuating  and  widening  seces- 
sion. 

For  they  all  have  remembrances  of  original  unity,  of  dominion  over  nature,  of 
the  objective  existence  of  the  Supreme  Good,  and  of  immortality.  Guided  as  the 
human  mind  is  as  yet  by  dim  ideas  and  faint  feelings  of  these  truths,  necessity  in- 
duces men  to  united  efforts  for  selfprotection  and  dominion. 

It  is  in  that  stage  of  natural  development  that  state-organisations  are  mistaken 
for  the  Supreme  Good,  and  the  representative  of  the  state  is  made  the  deity.  Erratic 
vestiges  of  the  religious  sentiment  and  its  erroneous  apperceptions  are  objectivised 
in  sacrificial  and  funeral  rites,  in  temple  and  tomb,  in  the  capitol  of  the  world-mon- 
archy. .  The  gods  are  identified  with  the  world  in  its  multiplicity  of  phenomena,  first 
with  heavenly  bodies,  then  with  the  generative  forces,  then  with  the  destructive 
powers  below,  with  beasts  and  demons,  with  guilt  objectivised,  then  with  ancestors 
and  rulers,  revered  as  deliverers  with  beasts  in  their  escutcheons.        ' 

Every  act  and  event  is  brought  into  relation  with  the  idols,  whilst  together  with 
God-consciousness  the  cognition  of  personality  is  lost.  The  traditional  and  inherent 
truths  are  no  longer  understood;  mutilated  they  are  mixed  in  with  a  medley  of  dis- 
torted but  personified  idiosyncrasies,  as  to  exterior  relations  and  inner  promptings,  per- 
sonified in  lieu  of  the  lost  human  personality. 

Thus  the  conglomerate  mass  of  superstition  even  must  serve,  for  the  time  being, 
as  a  means  not  to  save,  but  to  preserve  humanity  from  sinking  below  its  nature  and 
below  the  beasts.  It  must  serve  as  a  means  of  self  culture  by  which  man  is  to  keep 
himself  above  the  line  of  irretrievable  perdition,  just  as  a  shipwrecked  person  will 


n.  A.  CH.  Vn.  §  44.  PRINCIPLES  OF  COMPARATIVE  MYTHOLOGY.  105 

cling  to  a  chance  piece  of  timber.  In  or  rather  behind  the  idols  the  mind  searches 
after  the  center  of  unity  which  was  lost  with  the  God-consciousness,  because  that  loss 
is  most  acutely  felt  and  least  comprehensible  or  describable. 

The  severance  of  self-consciousness  from  God-consciousness  can  only  have  ensued 
from  a  deliberate  act  of  the  mind.  After  this  rupture  disintegration  went  on  not  only  uelTn  theajartu^ 
in  humanity  as  a  whole,  whereby  the  race  crumbled  to  pieces,  but  also  and  primarily  *'""'  God-consciousnew. 
in  the  faculties  of  the  individual  mind.    The  ego  became  distracted.   Wrong  inclina-  origin  of  the  calamity 
tions  and  arbitrariness,  fear  and  perverseness  turn  into  wild  fancies,  insubordinate  '"  ^^^  '«<^'^><i"»^  "»«»dj 
appetites,  passionate  temper  and  utter  dissipation.    The  blessings  of  life  are  turned 
into  curses.     The  promises  of  luck  and  lusts  turn  into  the  loss  of  energy,  of  dignity, 
of  property,  liberty  and  life. 

The  calamity  was  at  first  not  of  a  physical  nor  an  intellectual  nature— it  was  an  j,  „^.^^.^^^  phy^ic^i  „„, 
ethical  apostasy.    And  the  outward  evils  resulting  were  not  bad  in  themselves.    On  ^po^Sy."*  °'°"''~'''* 
the  contrary,  they  were  turned  to  good  purpose  by  inducing  man  to  turn  from  his 
tendency  toward  the  periphery  of  things  and  their  diversion,  and  to  return  to  the  Resulting  Ire  not 
center  of  unity.    The  laws  of  nature,  working  in  unison  with  the  moral  law  and  pur-  bad;  serve  as 

ciisciT)liii&ry 

pose,  inflict  punishment  in  the  way  of  educational  discipline.  The  rupture  could  be  measures, 
brought  to  the  recognition  of  man  in  no  other  way  than  by  its  consequences.  The 
sudden,  and  steep,  and  general  sinking,  the  collapse  of  his  applied  gifts  and  the 
heartrending  distress  of  the  soul,  could  at  first  be  perceived  in  no  other  manner, 
but  in  the  feelings.  It  was  only  afterward,  that  the  rupture  was  perceived  physically, 
in  the  miseries  of  privation  and  that  it  was  conceived  intellectually  by  reflecting  upon 
the  turmoil  of  national  differences,  sequent  to  the  disturbances  of  social  relations. 

CH.  Vll.    THE  MYTHOLOGICAL  PROCESS. 

§  44.    The  series  of  ascending  improvements  of  consciousness,  passing  through  JeTuted?'' "'  ""^**"' 
mythological  phases,  as  "evolution"  was  trying  to  demonstrate  with  reference  to  the 
cultured  nations,  does  not  exist. 

The  spurious  inferences,  upon  which  the  logics  of  Physiological  Psychology  at- 
tempted to  build  its  conjectures,  can  not  be  generalised  and  explained  by  materialis- 
tic monism.  Comparative  philosophy  of  religioji,  now  investigating  this  matter, 
finds  it  not  so  easy  to  construct  God-consciousness  from  fetishism  and  base  it  upon 
cloud-pictures  of  poetry.  The  diverse  strata  forming  the  historic  substructure  must 
be  unearthed,  before  the  cardinal  principles  in  the  formation  of  consciousness  can  be 
rendered  intelligible. 

Such  a  procedure  as  filling  out  gaps  by  borrowing  philosophical  premises,  or  by  the  E'tampie  of  illicit 

...  i».  T  ,.,,  ,  ,..,,  ~,        appropriation  of 

mechanical  mode  of  interpretation  engaged  in  by  those,  who  put  evolution  in  the  place  of  the  principles  alien  to 
manifestation  of  the  spiritual  world,  can  not  claim  that  recognition  which  is  granted  to  em-  »^*"'a^  science.      §  u. 
pirical  science.    The  natural  mind,  insisting  upon  its  liberty,  acts,  in  the  first  place,  not 
simply  by  way  of  accidents,  not  mechanically.     Much  less  will  sound  reason  persist  in  dis- 
honesty, if  it  erroneously  appropriated  metaphysical  arguments  for  the  sake  of  building  a  Natural  knowledge 
consistent  world-theory  irrespective  of  theology.  honest  enough  to 

Comparative  mythology  must  consider  three  principles,  says  Adrian  (in  Bastian  usHf 'iJretaphysicai' 
and  Ranke,  Archives  of  Anthropology,  Oct.,  1891,  page  260.)  viz:  the  faculties  and  reugi^uspr^biemi!'*'^* 
endowments  of  the  mind  common  to  all  men,  and  its  propensities  in  general;  the 
antecedent  traditions;  and  the  derivative  intermixtures,  interpolations,  and  interpre- 
tations indiscriminately  construed  from  both  in  subsequent  times  and  nations. 

In  the  course  of  uninterrupted  development  and  transmission  of  progress  these 
lines  of  discrimination  often  vanish  entirely,  because  of  the  chaotic  state  of  blending 
idiosyncrasies.    Hence  it  is  in  many  cases  very  diflBcult  to  analyse  the  meanings  of  conditions  of 

.  ./  ./  ^  o  formulating  theories  of 

personifications;  for  the  derivation  of  traditional  rites  and  symbolised  ideas  is  not  Mythology, 
always  so  demonstrable  as  in  Greek  and  Roman  mythology.      Golther  even  despaired     '''^''' 
of  the  disentanglement  of  ethnical  and  mythological  compounds. 

It  is  clear,  that  Philosophy  of  History  rendered  its  work  as  questionable  as  the 
Natural  Philosophy  of  Hegelianism  had  become,  when  it  built  upon  Schelling's 
premises  of  "identity." 

By  mythical  religiousness  commonly  that  phase  of  consciousness  is  understood,  KrTcomlfouSd'or 
in  which  all  impressions  of  the  natural  life  are  as  yet  promiscuously  flowing  to-  ^enrar'ntuuions!'''*^ 
gether  with  the  remnants  of  primeval  intuitive  God-consciousness.    But  such  a 
muddle,  such  an  aggregate  of  disconnected  ideas  has  not  as  yet  been  discovered  in 
the  myths  of  any  nation.    This  lack  has  slipped  the  attention  of  investigators. 


106 


INNER  RELIGIOUS  REMNANTS  AND  EXTERNAL  HEIRLOOMS.  IT.  A.  CH.  VII.  §  44 


Stratification  of 
differently  symbolised 
ideas  and  traditions 
variously  interpolated 
«nd  modified. 


Wars  generally  sprang 
from  religious  motives. 


Examples  of  . 

perverted 

traditions. 

Further  proof  of  the 
calamity  will  be 
adduced. 

S  41,  46,  107,  108,  110. 

Genesis  of 

mythological 

religiousness. 


Ruins  of  primitive 
revelation.  §  55. 


Pear  of  ghosts. 
Shamanism. 


Mixture  of  misconceived 
external  tradition  with 
inner  remnants  of 
God -consciousness. 


Religious  cravings  of 

the  mind  to  be 
satisfied  by  acts, 
not  ideas. 


Remnants  of 
truth  separable 
from 
superstitions. 

§  43,  55. 


Discrepancies  between 
life  and  thought  call 
forth  reflections  upon 
them.  §  55. 


Superstitious 
acts 

of  homage  superseded 
by  theories  and 
symbolism. 


In  esoterics  religion  is 
made  the  means  to  keep 
the  masses  in 
subjection . 


Religio-historic 
memory  awakens, 
rendering 
nations 
historical.         §  1. 

All  forms  of  life 
arranged  in 
conformity  to 
the  conception 
of  the  deity. 

§  42,  54,  71,  86,  etc. 


The  fact  is  that  national  life  in  the  stage  of  promiscuous  or  indefinite  forms  of 
religiousness  always  rested  on  distinct  layers  of  different  forms  of  religious  consci- 
ousness according  to  differently  symbolised  ideas  and  variously  interpolated  or  modi- 
fied traditions,  which  in  turns  strove  for  ascendency  and  shifted  one  above  the  other. 
The  wars  of  those  periods  were  generally  caused  by  the  religious  eruptions  sequent 
to  the  inability  to  discriminate  between  or  to  harmonise  conflicting  ideas,  in  matters 
of  tradition  and  symbolism  whenever  one  layer  broke  through  the  other.  The  broken 
remnants,  however,  were  hardly  ever  thrown  away  by  either  the  conquerors  or  the 
conquered,  notwithstanding  the  anomalies  arising  from  their  intermixture.' 

They  thus  became  still  more  antagonistic,  confused  and  perverted.  For  instance,  what 
had  been  the  deva,  common  to  both  the  Sanskrit  and  Zend  speaking  people,  became,  after 
their  estrangement,  the  dews  of  the  Iranians,  and  the  dev-ils  of  our  vernacular,  whilst  the 
Greeks  utilized  the  word  in  Zeus,  and  the  Latin  nations  in  deus. 

That  calamity,  which  befell  the  consciousness  of  union  with  God,  we  presupposed 
under  condition  of  adducing  proof.  No  other  proposition  will  account  for  the  subse- 
quent catastrophe,  for  the  break  of  the  unity  of  humanity  in  which  the  parts  were 
flung  to  all  directions.  At  this  stage  of  clearing  up  the  problem,  this  proposition 
also  yields  a  preliminary  account  for  the  abyss  into  which,  religiously  in  the  first 
place,  humanity  fell  at  some  historic  moment. 

As  fractures  and  confounded  elements  of  religious  consciousness  we  recognised 
the  psychological  state  of  dissatisfaction  with  the  secondary  Good  which  was  mis- 
taken for  the  Supreme  Good,  a  dissatisfaction  always  accompanied  by  the  desire  for 
something  better,  of  which  conscience  has  the  standard  measure  ef  value  in  charge. 

As  the  first  historic  result  of  the  deranged  religious  sentiency  we  observe  Sham- 
anism with  its  fear  of  ghosts,  its  ancestor-and  snake-worship.  The  source  of  these 
perturbations,  as  it  appears  to  us,  lies  in  the  false  interpretation  of  the  feeling  of  de- 
pendency and  obligation.  Mixed  with  the  inner  remnants  of  original  God-consciousness 
and  with  corrupted  external  traditions  these  misconceptions  gather  strength  in  their 
downward  course.  In  the  confusion  ensuing  the  mind  becomes  overwhelmed  and 
stupefied.  This  explains  the  phenomenal  attempts  to  satisfy  the  religious  cravings  of 
the  mind  by  perverted  rites  and  sup'erstitious'  contrivances,  that  is,  through  acts  and 
not  with  ideas  or  theories.  The  ruins  of  primitive  revelation  (which  we  shall  gather 
up  as  we  go  along  )  no  longer  understood  and  twisted  into  corrupted  idiosyncrasies, 
were  transmitted  and  carried  along  with  the  external  and  ritual  performances  now 
conceived  as  being  religiously  effective  in  themselves.  These  externals  served  as  vehi- 
cles, in  such  a  manner,  however,  as  to  be  always  easily  distinguished  and  even  to  be  instantly 
separated  from  the  remnants  of  primitive,  universal  revelation. 

Whenever  nations  advanced  somewhat  in  culture,  but  never  before,  a  layer  of  high- 
er intellectuality  formed  itself  above  the  lower  stratum  of  superstitious  ignorance. 
That  a  nation  rids  itself  of  the  wild  vagaries  of  the  demoralized  consciousness  is 
owing  to  the  meditation  upon  these  very  idiosyncrasies  perplexing  them.  They 
challenge  reflection  to  disentangle  the  discrepancies  between  internal  remnants  of 
the  original  religious  consciousness  and  the  external  traditionary  fragments.  For 
the  mind  ever  involuntarily  craves  after  centers  of  coherency.  The  creation  of  sym- 
bols and  framing  of  theories  is  the  result  of  these  reflections  attempting  the -emanci- 
pation of  the  mind,  and  the  reinstatement  into  its  birth-right. 

Whilst  in  the  lower  stratum  fear  (that  "  anxious  suspense  ")  and  ignorance  are 
not  dispelled,  in  order  to  keep  the  masses,  as  the  weaker  portion  of  the  nation,  in  dire 
superstition  and  subjection,--thought  in  the  layer  above  builds  up  esoteric  systems 
and  exoteric  symbolism  which  are  handed  down  by  priestly  castes  in  the  forms  of 
oracles  and  mysteries. 

When  "  memory  ",  that  is  the  historical  sense,  awakens,  when  the  idea  of  cohesion 
and  continuity  of  human  affairs  dawns  upon  consciousness,  then,  and  never  before, 
a  nation  becomes  historical.  It  is  then  that  thoughts  and  deeds  are  deemed  to  be  of 
religious  import,  and  that  the  whole  of  life  is  arranged  under  aspects  of  religious  ob- 
ligations and  is  brought  into  relation  to  the  deity  in  every  particular.  It  is  only  then 
that,  under  the  auspices  of  historic  memory,  the  formation  of  myths  begins,  which 
is  explicable  in  no  other  way.    None  but  historic  nations  form  myths  with  distinctive 


n.  A.  CH.  Vn.  §  45.  GENESIS  OF  MYTHICAL  RELIGION.  107 

features.    It  is  the  awakening  of  religio-historic  consciousness,  the  translation,  as  it  K^^yJlf«  w?th^'*'°'' 
were,  of  the  inner,  religious  promptings  into  thought  which  supersedes  superstitious  distinct  ingredients. 
acts.  The  religio-historic  consciousness  fastens  these  thoughts  to  symbols  and  estab- 
lishes fixed  theories  and  systems  from  which  the  myths  ensue.     Hence,  we  assert,  that  wyths^not  the  source  of 
myths  are  not  the  parental  source  of  religion — but  that  religio-historic  memory  is  the  source 
of  the  myths. 

§  45.  Correctly,  we  trust,  the  genesis  of  mythology  has  thus  been  set  forth  from 
actual  phases  of  religious  self  culture,  and  from  the  phenomena  of  religious  motives 
or  incitements.  ^ 

It  is  only  after  the  problem  has  thus  been  cleared  up  that  we  have  a  right  to 
speak  of  religious  development  and  advance,  which  is  greatly  at  variance  with  the  perpiexSy?then^* 
ideas  alledged  by,  and  involved  in,  evolutionism.    The  first  stage  is  utter  degeneracy  cen®™^^^^**  ***^™ 
and  perplexity,  caused  by  the  acute  feeling  of  a  great  loss  and  the  faint  reminis-  cohesion, 
cence  of  something  better.    Then  follow        attempts  to  reduce  them  to  order  around 
reconstructed  centers  of  cohesion;  then  follows  the  displacement  of  superstitious  acts 
by  invented  theories,  and  their  embodiment  into  religio-historic  legends.    Now  we  twfes^*"**"'^ 
may  observe  the  further  process  of  religious  formations,  deformities,  and  reforms.         then  myths, 

•'  sr  o  f  7  ^jigjj  either  development 

Just  as  we  witnessed  the  rapid  disintegration  of  man's  consciousness  after  the  "'  '^^''^'*' 
great  disruption,  with  some  religious  truth  ever  shining  through,  just  so  we  find  the 
nature  of  the  lowest  stratum  of  prehistoric  and  distorted  tradition,  mixed  with  super-  i'th^s^uperstitlo^''"'''^^ 
stitious  anguish,  always  betraying  itself  by  breaking  through  the  advanced  layers 
above.    In  the  lower  strata  we  find  elements  of  truth  ever  present  in  superstition. 
In  the  upper  classes  there  is  a  higher  mental  culture  always  tainted  with  the  basest  cHn'^fAvaniT^^ 
remnants  of  heathenism.    For,  the  higher  ideas  in  computed  theories  of  natural  re-  leffglön.''^*"**' 
ligion  were  never  able  to  abolish  old  superstitions.    Hence  we  emphasise,  that  such  Advanced  ideas  never 
an  account  of  the  character  of  mythology  as  given  here,  and  such  alone,  is  congruous  supersuuon.'^ 
with  the  empiric  facts. 

^    ,     .     „  Fear  produces 

The  Gods,  in  fact,  are  not  creatures  of  fear :  fear  projects  demons.  no  deities  but 

It  is  sickness  with  its  perplexing  incidents  and  its  appalling  end  in  death  from  which  an-  demons, 
cestor-worship,  in  the  first  place,  originated. 

The  davmted  mind  contrived  to  appease  the  souls  of  deceased  relatives  or  to  ward  off  the  Genesis  of  Shamanism, 
dreaded  designs  of  dead  foes  and  haunting  demons  by  means  of  conjury,  magic  art  and  sor-   sorcery  and  Fetishism. 
eery.    These  became  the  religious  usages  predominant  with  the  Mongolians  of  the  Gobi  re- 
gions, and  developed  iiito  the  witchcraft  of  the  Akkadians  who  came  from  thence.    Among  the  ancestor-worhip,      §  54. 
former  the  occult  substratum  may  be  observed  in  all  its  baseness  to  this  day  as  the  only. form 
of  consciousness;  while  the  higher,  a  historic-mythical  form  of  thought  has  gradually  covered  Mythical^reiigiousness^^^ 
the  nethermost  layer  to  some  extent.    And  a  similar  process  is  demonstrable  in  all  nations,  our  much  better.  §  61. 

own  not  excepted. 

They  all  know  of  an  antecedent  history  beginning  in  times  immemorial  since  which  in 
some  nations  peculiar  shades  of  religious  consciousness  have  solidified  and  hardened  into 
myths,  whilst  in  other  nations  specific  imaginings  took  their  shapes  in  ways  similar  to  the 
oozing  of  black  fluids  from  subterranean  cavities  or  gathering  in  swampy  morasses  or  cheer- 
less heaths.  But  none  of  the  phantasmagories  of  the  latter  sort  bears  a  higher  relation  to 
regular  mythology,  monumental  or  documentary,  than  shifting  slang  or  capricious  dialects 
bear  to  the  literary  wealth  of  a  well-constructed,  highly  articulated  language.  Fear  not  the 

Once  for  all  we  take  exception  to  the  argument  which  implies  that  faith  is  the  source  of 
bastard  of  fear,  to  the  inference  that  fear  invented  the  idols  of  gods.    We  refute  the  plrfit'of^f^aVh.^ 
conclusion  by  the  fact,  that  it  is  the  feeling  of  disobeyed  obligations  in  the  true  re- 
ligious sense  which  calls  forth  fear.    This  feeling  of  duty  is  a  priori  inherent  in  man 
in  such  a  manner  that  he  tries  in  vain  to  rid  himself  thereof.  „ 

Resume : 

Hence  we  review  the  course  of  religious  deterioration  in  the  following  order.  At 
first  we  observe  the  feeling  of  an  indescribable  loneliness  and  loss,  rising  from 
amongst  the  ruins  of  corrupted  God-consciousness.  Then  the  distracted  and  per- 
plexed ideas,  by  thinking  in  pictures,  mold  the  traditional  and  misapprehended  rites 
into  correspondingly  grotesque  symbols  and  unavailing  idols;  and  finally,  sequent  to 
the  utter  loss  of  their  meaning,  into  fetishes.  .  ^^^^^^  „^  religious 

Religion  was  not  produced  by  fear.    On  the  contrary:  fear  is  the  buoy,  the  floating  deteiioration. 
mark,  signalising  the  submerged  wreck  of  religion.    The  feeling  of  the  unknown  God 
caused  the  fear.    Fear  did  not  make  the  gods,  did  not  bring  forth  speculative  ideas  of  The  feeling  of  an 
probable  deities,  but  it  caused  consciousness  to  fall  back  upon  superstitious  acts  of  forth°f^r.^°*^ 
probable  propitiation. 

10 


108 


Shintoism 

the  nobler  form  of 
ancestor-worship 
testifies  to  the  knowledge 
of  immortality. 

Shamanism. 

derived  from  it,  its 
corrupted  form ; 
spreads  as  snikensult 
and 

demonolatry ; 

infects  all  subsequent 

mythology. 

Hence  devolution  of 

Fetishism. 

ACUKUS. 


This  is  the  offshoot  of 

necromancy 

the  world  over. 
Trknoelenburg,  Bastian, 

ScHLAfilSTWBIT,  PBKT. 


SHAMANISM,  NECROMANCY,  CONJURY. 


n.  A.  ch.  vn.  §  45. 


Means  of  protection 
from  evil  spirits. 


Skulls  of  Dajjaks 
Mirrors  in  Japan. 


Horsesho«  of  Wodan. 


Roots  of  necromancy  in 
the  Himalayas. 


Fear  is  the  concomitant  of  death  and  darkness.  There  lies  its  natural  genesis. 
Our  conclusions  as  to  its  rise  from  religious  grounds  will  be  vindicated,  none  the  less, 
if  we  present  to  our  minds  that  form  of  Shintoism,  which  lies  bare  upon  the  surface 
in  Central-Asia,  where  we  can  fathom  the  deepest  depression  of  superstitious  con- 
sciousness, and  from  whence,  mixed  with  the  fear  of  ghosts  and  with  sorcery  and 
Shamanistic  demonolatry,  it  spread  everywhere.  Originally  it  consisted  of  subverted 
notions  based  upon  such  true  elements  as  had  been  obtained  from  the  knowledge  of 
immortality.  The  stultified  mind  in  its  almost  unconscious  state,  grasps  at  any  ap- 
prehensible object  and  attributes  supernatural  forces  to  it.  Fetishism  is  the  result, 
and  the  beginning,  at  the  same  time,  of  heathenism  proper— the  modern  and  home- 
made forms  included.    In  this  sense  Achelis's  evolutionism  is  to  be  understood. 

Abhorrence  of  death,  and  being  afraid  of  the  night  and  of  sprites,  lie  at  the  bottom  of 
Chinese  and  Japanese  idolatry.  This  is  the  main  feature  of  ancestor-worship,  liept  up  among 
them  despite  their  seeming  indifference  to  religiousness,  and  combined  with  the  dragon- 
worship  to  which  all  Turanians  are  addicted.  Equally  universal  among  them  is  the  reverence 
paid  to  skulls  (or  scalps  in  lieu  of  them)  and  the  practices  of  conjury  and  necromancy.  These 
elements  of  Shamanism  have,  as  by  contagion,  spread  even  into  the  Persian  system.  So  was 
Hindoo  culture  tinctured  with  Mongolian  idolatry  and  snake- worship  by  way  of  the  primeval 
population  of  India.  Schlagintweit  has  proved  this  for  the  whole  extent  of  India  as  dating 
from  the  time  of  pre- Aryan  occupation.  Peet  has  done  the  same  with  reference  to  all  the 
primitive  inhabitants  of  North  and  Central  America  in  his  "Serpent-Symbolism"  1887. 

Neither  is  snake-worship  and  anthropophagy  ever  missing  with  the  West  Aryans.  The 
Greeks  were  addicted  to  it  as  well  as  the  Druids.  At  both  terminal  points,  Peking  and  Rome, 
exactly  the  same  spiritism  prevails.  Intercourse  with  the  dead  by  means  of  mediums, 
prisms  etc.,  is  nowhere  more  firmly  established  than  in  China— only  paid  better  in  Pariser 
New  York.  The  rites  associated  with  spiritism  have  been  enumerated  by  Bastian.  The  proofs 
for  this  custom  in  Rome  have  been  gathered  long  ago.  For,  under  cover  of  theoflBcial  worship 
of  the  gods,  the  fear  of  phantoms  held  even  the  heroic  Romans  in  awe.  It  was  in  consequence 
of  wild  spiritism  that  more  than  one  emperor  butchered  children  in  order  to  obtain  magic 
charms  from  their  intestines. 

In  the  old  Pelasgian  culture,  and  in  later  times  at  the  construction  of  bridges,  we  notice 
what  Trendelenburg  described  as  the  "worship  of  infernal  demons  so  intrinsically  connected 
with  necromancy."  Owing  to  the  same  circumstances  the  capitol  in  Rome  received -its  name 
from  a  dead  head.  With  the  Siberian  Wotjaks  the  same  custom  is  in  vogue  up  to  date.  Ac- 
cording to  von  Steinen's  conjecture  their  house-spirits  are  the  spirits  of  ancestors. 

The  souls  of  the  dead  are  as  prominent  in  the  life  and  consciousness  of  the  Micronesians 
and  Melanesians,  as  in  the  world-theory  of  the  Chinese  and  Japanese.  Upon  the  island  of 
Mangaia  the  dead  are  imagined  to  walk  about  the  most  desolate  regions  of  the  seashore.  They 
consist  of  a  ghostly  network,  wearing  herbs  as  their  garments,  and  red  creepers  around 
their  heads.  Moaning  they  flit  about  their  former  homesteads  until,  gathered  by  a  leader, 
they  are  conducted  in  droves  to  the  dark  place.  The  religions  of  the  Papua  and  the  Palauans 
seem  to  be  made  up  entirely  of  such  imagined  relations  to  the  realm  of  spectres.  Among  the 
Austral- negroes  the  superstition  prevails,  that  departed  souls  sit  wailing  under  the  trees; 
ever  on  the  alert  they  fill  the  woods,  and  see  without  being  seen.  At  night  demons  are  sup- 
posed to  fly  through  the  air,  causing  man  to  be  in  trepidation  all  the  time,  and  to  be  on  the 
defensive,  so  that  for  his  protection  he  is  ever  in  need  of  magic  bones,  of  the  fat  of  kidneys  of 
the  deceased,  of  innumerable  talismans  of  that  sort.  Much  of  the  same  beliefs  and  customs 
prevail  among  all  the  Micronesians  and  Melanesians.  With  the  Dajjaks  the  skulls  of  ancestors 
are  venerated  just  as  they  are  in  Japan.    Before  the  mirror  once  used  by  ancestors  or 

before  their  images,  the  Japanese  make  oaths  just  as  the  Romans,  who  imagined  their  city  to 
be  crowded  with  penates  and  lares,  solemnised  theirs.  And  how  many  little  hobgoblins  of 
pagan  origin  have  been  handed  down  to  our  juvenile  world,  as  for  instance  the  Irish  customs 
on  the  Hallow  Eve  of  All-souls-day,  especially  in  homes  where  Christian  literature  is  despised. 

Everywhere  we  find  the  same  thralldom  of  rank  fearf ulness,  or  the  enchanting  belief  in 
mischievous  fairies,  or  in  frightful  manifestations  of  souls  doomed  to  restlesness. 

The  Australian  aborigines  believe  that  not  only  departed  souls  but  even  the  sorcerers, 
called  "mediums"  with  us,  ride  through  the  air  and  are  carried  hither  and  hither  by  spirits- 
just  as  it  was  held  with  regard  to  Wodan's  wild  chase  to  the  Brocken,  and  with  regard  to  the 
horse-shoe  lost  on  such  occasions. 

In  Leipzig  everybody  knows  the  beer-cellar  from  which  Dr.  Faust  rode  up  in  the  air 
upon  a  cask:  and  every  Erfurtian  knows  the  small  alley  through  which  he  drove  —much  more 
since  Goethe  wrote  about  him;  and  we  must  not  think  that  the  "lower  classes"  who  fairly  be- 
lieve this,  are  not  "enlightened,"  for  they  read  the  daily  paper  and  have  outgrown  going  to 
Church. 

The  belief  in  witchcraft,  sorcery,  necromancy,  and  soothsaying  pervades  all  nations,  the 
"upper  crust"  nowhere  excepted.  It  is  that  very  profusion  of  roots  from  the  Himalayas, 
which  ramifies  below  the  surface  throughout  all  parts  of  humanity,  sending  new  shoots  into 
the  open  air  not  only  among  the  savages,  but  wherever  we  meet  black  arts,  talismans,  amulets 
good  luck  horse-shoes  —fetishes. 


n.  A.  CH.  Vn.  §  45.  FETISHISM.  109 

Upon  the  Gold-coast  of  Guinea  the  office  of  the  fetish-priest  is  highly  revered.     But  such  Fetishpriests  in  Qainea. 
alone,  as  are  specially  endowed  can  obtain  its  honors ,  those  who  are  experts  in  frantic  dancing 
and  raving  mania,  just  as  it  is  in  Asia  where  Fakirs  and  Brahmins  have  learned  to  make  it  Libation». 
their  specialty. 

In  that  part  of  Africa  mentioned  as  in  other  parts,  nobody  would  neglect  to  make 
amends  to  the  fetishes  mornings  and  evenings.  At  every  meal  the  fetish  receives  homage; 
libation  is  made  at  every  drink.  Before  any  enterprise  is  undertaken  the  fetishes  must  be 
bribed  to  favor  it ;  after  every  success  thank-offering  is  the  first  duty.  If  expectation  is  disap- 
pointed, then  of  course  it  is  so  much  the  worse  for  the  fetish.  Thus  the  fetish  may  be  anything 
and  is  good  for  everything.  It  renders  the  conjugal  state  prolific  and  protects  family  life ;  it 
serves  as  a  lightning  rod  for  the  burst  of  ill  humor,  or  a  pretext  for  caricaturing  and  reject- 
ing even  Christianity. 

Now  what  tainted  the  church  is  of  a  far  opposite  nature  and  entirely  alien  to  it,  as  the  Fetishism  in  church  i»  of 
sequel  shall  prove.    Fetishism  is  not  of  religious,  much  less  biblical  origin ;  neither  is  biblical  chrtsUan^OTi^gin""*!  201 
religion  in  any  way  related  to  it,  nor  can  it  by  any  means  be  brought  into  relation,  with  it. 
"Whatever  infidelity  may  pick  out  of  the  biblical  contents  to  illustrate  its  derivation  from 
Asiatic  paganism,  can  not  deteriorate  the  things  sacred  to  the  faith  in  revealed  religion. 

True,  I  know  of  a  family  who  gave  "holy  water"  of  a  good  old  age  to  a  sick  hog  in  order 
to  prolong  its  life,  whilst,  when  the  daughter  became  sick  and  died,  there  was  great  lamenta- 
tion, because  the  application  of  the  elixir  had  been  forgotten  in  her  case.    In  another  house 
the  father  suffered  with  tooth-ache.    The  son  was  sent  to  the  neighbors  after  midnight  for 
their  large  "Mother  of  God"  which  stood  behind  the  door  in  the  "Putz— Stube,"  because  "our  instances  of  such 
iOwn,  being  so  small,  is  of  no  avail".    In  the  year  A.  D.,  1853  on  the  festivities  of  the  chief  relics  caricatures: 
in  the  Bamberg  cathedral  we  read  on  the  large  placard  hung  up  at  the  main  entrance :  "  O  holy  Bamberg.' 
Nail,  ora  pro  nobis ! " 

But  such  travesties  upon  religion,  such  tolerance  and  fostering  of  superstition  in 
the  Church  even,  must  not  be  imputed  to  Christianity.  Such  cases  can  as  readily  be 
proven  to  have  been  allowed  to  encroach  upon  it  from  Hamito-Semitic  sources,  as 
those  which  the  Old  Testament  history  repudiated  in  such  an  awful  manner. 

What  does  all  this  fetishism  denote?  We  answer  that  human  consciousness  has 
an  idea  of  some  power  above  that  represented  by  the  fetish.  In  the  protecting  charms, 
a  horse-shoe,  perhaps,  or  an  owl  nailed  to  the  barn  door—  in  consecrated  fluids,  in 
rituals,  aethetically  embellished,  in  sacrifices  workinpj  ex  opere  operatum,  etc.,  people 
believe  that  some  one  may  possess  the  means  for  gaining  power  over  the  fetish,  if 
only  the  right,  that  is,  the  stronger  fetish  were  hit  upon. 

Examples  of  that  sort  have  been  described  at  length  by  Waitz,  from  the  details  of  daily  Ulterior  significance  of 
life,  private  and  public.    He  related,  how  the  filling  of  the  fishing- nets,  the  ripening  of  the  *'««^'»'''™-   w^«- 
grain  produce, the  stoppage  of  pestilence,  the  making  of  rain-showers,  etc.,  are  ascribed  to  the 
fetishes.    Crocodiles  and  sharks  are  not  to  be  slighted  when  the  different  offerings  upon  the 
list  of  sacrifices  are  to  be  complied  with.    In  these  observances,  we  detect  the  cause  of,  and  the 
mode  in  which,  the  Egyptian  Paut  (of  Champillon)  or  the  Enneade  (of  Brugsch)  had  become 
corrupted.    And  we  can  not,  in  this  connection  forget  what  Motley  gathered  from  the  Dutch  Fetishes  found  with  the 
archives  concerning  the  fetishes  found  with  the  assassin  of  William  the  Silent,  fetishes  w  hich  süent!'*  Moti^t^^"*™  **** 
the  Jesuits  had  given  him  to  make  him  invisible  after  the  deed.      Nor  can  we  forget  what  Max 
Mueller  says  with  reference  to  the  "feidicos"  of  the  Portuguese  which  reminded  the  Africans  Derivation  of  the  word 
of  their  own  magic  charms,  so  they  adopted  even  the  Christian  name  for  them.    Magic  bones  po°rtugues*e'**'*^**^  °*  **" 
were  not  only  bought  up  by  the  Elector  Frederick  the  Wise  for  his  new  chapel  in  Wittenberg  Max  Muellkb. 
to  the  number  of  5005  (L.  v.  Ranke,  Reformation  I,  page  163.)  but  also  the  Mongolians  are  fond  Relics  of  Frederick  the 
of  them,  and  the  Ojibway  Indians  embellish  them  with  their  rarest  feathers.  Wise.   Kank. 

This  leads  us  to  our  own  country.    The  favorite  practice  of  scalping  is  nothing  but  modi-  scalping  is  modified 
fled  skuU-or  ancestor-worship.    Shamanism,  the  corruption  of  the  latter,  held  sway  over  the  ancestor-worship.      J54. 
Maya-Aztecs  and  their  comrades  throughout  the  whole  continent  between  the  Nittinahts  of 
Vancouver  to  the  Potowatomies  of  New  Jersey.    The  snake  as  well  as  the  bear  was  held  to  be 
divine  from  the  Ural  east  to  the  Appalachian  mountains.     Skulls  appear  as   ornaments  of  the 
long  cornices  of  Mexican  pyramids  and  around  the  kraals  of  Dahomey.   "Frequently  we  find 
the  cult  of  the  dead  as  being  affiliated  with  snake- worship"  says  Ratzel  "The  Kaffirs  attribute  Kaffirs  believe  their 
luck  and  distress  to  the  departed  souls,  especially  those  of  their  chiefs,  whose  spirits  are  called  departed  chiefs  to  dwell 
Ozituta  and  are  supposed  to  dwell  in  snakes."  '"^  ""^^''    ^*""" 

This  snake- worship  requires  special  attention. 

It  is  known  that  in  Abomey  the  most  is  made  of  the  boa  constrictor.    Its  cult,  tho  not  as  Snake-worship 
conspicuous  as  fetishism,  stands  the  higher  in  the  esteem  of  the  populace.     The  tree-fetish  affiliated  to 
must  be  strong  enough  to  bear  a  hundred  corpses  hung  up  for  the  vultures  to  pick  off  the  «^»cestor- worship 
flesh  from  the  dangling  skeletons ;  the  walls  of  the  domiciles  of  the  aristocrats  are  beset  with  Principal  deity  of 
skulls ;  human  skulls  and  bones  are  used  as  ornaments  to  every  gate.    Yet  the  snake,  in  com-  ^^^''^^y 
pany  with  the  leopard  and  the  shark,  is  the  principal  deity  of  Dahomey.    The  snake-cult  in  the  Remnants  of  snake-cult 
kingdom  of  Ardra  was  discussed  in  an  article  of  the  Revue  de  deux  mondes.    The  rites  consist  '"  ^"^'^  nation. 
of  weird  dances  ending  with  convulsions  and  mantic  ecstacies.    We  were  apprised  of  the  pres-   imported  to  the  United 
ence  of  these  very  rites  among  the  negroes  of  St.  Domingo,  and  we  are  surprised  to  hear  that  pekYng^Rc^e,  by  tho 
"Hoodoo"  has  not  been  forgotten  as  yet,  even  in  Georgia  and  Alabama.     Thus  the  black  man  ^^  P»*"-  **»«  yellow,  th« 
imports  snake-worship  from  Africa  to  the  east,  while  the  red  man  propagates  it  in  the  west,  man. 


Genesig  of  snake-cult  to 
be  discussed.        §  54,  56. 


No  man  below  redemp- 
tion despite  such 
deterioration. 


Acca-boys  in  Verona. 

SCHWBIKFUBT. 


Natural  religion. 

Monism  of  the 

materialists 

(Mammcnism) 


Science  demoralised : 
feticism  and  feticide. 


110  MATERIALISTIC  SCIENCE  AND  SUPERSTITION.  11.  A.  CH.  VII.  §  46. 

# 
There  the  yellow  man  also  pets  his  dragon  brought  along  from  Peking,  whilst  the  white  man 
in  Baltimore,  according  to  Roman,  but  originally  Mongolian  ritual,  perfumes  with  incense  the 
statue  of  St.  Michael  and  the  dragon  under  his  feet. 

We  close  the  exhibition  of  the  mixture  of  traditional  legends,  ill-understood 
symbolism  and  inner  remnants  of  religiousness.  The  roots  of  this  oldest  and  wildest 
growth  will  be  further  discussed  when  we  stand  face  to  face  again  with  the  stupor  of 
an  irreligious,  frightened  and  benighted  consciousness.  We  have  looked  into  the 
substratum  of  human  degradation,  and  there  have  observed  an  occult  undercurrent 
of  history  up  to  the  present.  No  tribe  has  been  found  void  of  all  religious  sentiment, 
and  none  is  below  the  capability  of  being  redeemed  from  its  dreadful  abnormities. 

Schweinfurt  on  his  return  from  Africa  found  two  boys  of  the  Akka  people,  a  nation  of 
dwarfs  which  he  had  visited.  These  boys  had  been  brought  to  Verona  in  order  to  be  educated. 
In  a  comparatively  short  time  they  learned  to  play  the  piano  pretty  well. 

§  46.  Now,  is  it  not  the  laudable  aim  of  Natural  Science  to  destroy  all  such 
superstition  and  fetishism,  and  to  make  room  for  a  natural  and  rational  religion? 
We  rejoin  that  evolutionism  can  no  more  annihilate  superstition  than  Brahmanism 
and  Buddhism  could  abolish  snake-worship  in  Asia.  For,  materialistic  monism  is  but 

superstition^*^°^  another  form  of  deifying  natural  objects.  As  far  as  a  world-theory  has  been  founded 
upon  this  monism,  it  is  tantamount  to  mammonism,  cultivated  by  labor  as  much  as 

AisparaKin'r^^**"*'*  by  Capital  alike  in  that  each  in  its  way  deifies  natural  goods,  makes  gold  its  fetish, 

personal  life.  depreclates  personality. 

The  laborer  is  treated  as  a  market  commodity ;  the  soul  of  the  fetus  as  the  property  of 
which  the  parent  may  dispose  ad  libitum.  Capital  does  not  want  to  be  disturbed  in  its  accum- 
ulation by  being  divided  among  too  many  heirs,  so  that  one  of  the  practical  results  of  this 
materialistic  view  of  life  has  been  "the"  growing  "social  evil."  It  is  an  open  secret,  that 
Darwin  was  led  to  his  theory  by  that  of  Malthus,  who  thought  overpopulation  was  all  that 
impoverished  his  country.  It  can  not  be  denied,  that  the  Darwinian  theory  was  made  a 
Malthus  and  Darwinism.  ^^^^^^  ^^^  carrying  out  the  Malthusian. 

We  repeat:      The  noxious  world-theory  founded  upon  the  immature  scientific  dogma- 
tism which  abets  depreciation  of  personal  life  and  deification  of  matter-force,  is  to  be  charged 
to  evolutionism  as  far  as  it  is  identical  with  materialistic  monism.    Virchow  had  good  reason 
to  make  it  responsible  for  the  ways  in  which  the  dogmatism  of  the  Tyndalls  was  applied  by 
Socialism  in  the  assault  upon  the  Christian  world-theory. 

Evolutionism  can  not  even  claim  the  honor  of  having  weakened  superstition,  despite  its 
attempts  to  supplant  the  faith  of  Christianity  by  a  belief  in  its  own  authority— an  act  super- 
stitious enough  in  itself. 

Inferential  theories  of  natural  religion  never  manifest  force  sufficient  to  clean  out  super- 
stitution.  As  far  as  the  cultured  nations  of  ancient  times  are  concerned,  there  was  always 
spread  out  a  layer  of  higher,  that  is  mythical  form  of  religiousness  above  the  crude  form  and 
residue  of  depraved  Shamanism,  circumscribed  by  birth  and  death,  entrance  into  and  exit  out 
of  life  on  earth. 

The  awakening  of  reflection  upon  the  often  enumerated  discrepancies,  and  the 
corresponding  religious  advance,  become  first  manifest  in  the  higher  classes  of  these 
nations.  They  improve  their  chances  and  enhance  their  world-consciousness  by  new 
observations  made  in  trade,  travel,  and  rule.  Ranks  are  forming  in  which  intellec- 
tual superiority  gains  power  and  the  means  for  further  mental  improvements, 
through  which  again  power  and  lordship  become  the  more  able  to  establish  them- 
selves the  firmer. 

More  ideal  views  of  life  are  gradually  obtained  thereby,  outmarshalling  those  of 
the  rude,  materipJistic  mind,  which  takes  its  own  view  of  life  as  the  only  true  and 
real.  Under  rules  of  organised  and  legalised  possession,  security  develops 
by  way  of  architectural  constructions  in  defense  against  external  foes;  it  develops  by 
erecting  tombs  to  secure  the  prolongation  of  existence  against  the  foe  most  dreaded— 
against  death.  Thus  the  religio-philosophical  elements  arrange  themselves  to  perpe- 
tuate security  and — class-rule.  In  systems  thus  ensuing,  the  incoherent  remnants  of  prim- 
itive consciousness,  and  the  enigmatical  fragments  of  original  symbols,  and  the  mutilated  tra- 
ditions all  of  these  petrified  souvenirs  of  the  original  unity  of  the  race  and  of  religion,  are 
patched  together  regardless  of  their  heterogeneity.  The  less  understood,  the  higher  they  are 
esteemed;  the  older  they  grow,  the  more  are  they  held  sacred,  especially  in  the  circles  of 
the  old  nobility.  In  this  sense  Bastian's  conclusion  is  correct,  that  "the  worship  of 
ancestors,  and  the  deification  of  things  associated  with  their  memory,  became  the  first 
principles  of  religion*'— after  heathendom  had  to  some  lengths  gone  its  own  way. 


Naturalistic  dogmatism 

ViBCHOW 

as  applied  to  socialism. 
Tyndall. 

Their  world- 
theory  super- 
stitious in  itself, 
is  unable  to 
displace 
superstition. 


Genesis  of 
systematised 
natural  religion ; 

Theorising  upon  the 
discrepancy  between 
thought  and  life, 
reality  and  destiny. 

Advanced  intellectualism 
utilised  in  the  interest  of 

Class-rule. 

§  54,  57. 


Tombs 

to  perpetuate  security  of 

existence. 

Painst  the  chief  foe. 
ossession 
organised. 

Mixture  of  inner 
remnants  of 
original  religion 
with  symbols  of 
forgotten 
meaning  and 
mutilated 
traditions. 

Bastiah. 


Old  nobility  and 

anachronistic 

religiousness. 

I  67,  73,  78,  137 


II.  A.  Ch.  Vn.  §  46.  MYTHICAL  RELIGION.  Ill 

With  this  portion  of  inheritance  man  went  to  housekeeping  for  himself:  this  ex- 
plains why  we  meet  the  same  religious  traits  and  family  features  in  the  most  widely 
separated  regions.  It  reminds  one  of  the  religious  kinship  existing  "between  the  wor- 
ship upon  the  most  isolated  islands  and  all  other  religions." 

The  religious  apperceptions  totally  governing  a  people  in  remote  isolation  vary 
from  those  with  widening  relations  simply  in  that  the  former  are  more  retarded  and 
sink  deeper.    Natural  religion  can  only  rely  upon  its  own  diminishing  resources;  and  Slonii^'ieinents  of 
there  is  nothing  in  its  background  but  fright— fear  of  ghosts  and  the  night,  unless  nfghi^ 'death  ""^^ 
there  be  a  still  deeper  background  into  which  the  eye  of  reason  can  not,  and  the  eye  the  serpent.' 
of  faith  need  not,  penetrate;  in  the  search  of  which  the  hand  gropes  along  the  wall  in 
the  dark,  because  of  the  dimness  of  the  "light  in  the  treasury  vault." 

Doubtless  a  few  traditions  with  reference  to  the  first  death  and  the  snake  were 
never  forgotten.    And  these  did  not,  nor  were  they  intended  to,  lessen  that  fear.    As  faTuury  measure  of 
a  symptom  of  the  conflict  between  consciousness  and  perverted  selfhood  that  fear  discipline. 
was  utilized  to  establish  "man  a  law  unto  himself." 

It  is  fear  that  makes  the  mind  grasp  after  those  "first  principles"  just  spoken  of, 
which  are  indestructibly  imbedded  in  consciousness,  innate  in  the  mind,  never  en-  Mythologies  but  attempts 

at  fonnulating  world- 

tirely  dropped  from  tradition,  and  always  separable  from  corrosive  ingredients.      It  consciousness.   §55,  ei. 
is  trouble  alone  which  thoroughly  reminds  man  of  those  "first  principles"  and  makes 
him  grasp  at  them,  as  a  shipwrecked  mariner  struggles  for  a  hold  upon  a  broken 
piece  of  timber.  The  "anxious  suspense"  causes  him  to  observe,  and,  in  the  process  of  Jhe^mentiYLwAV' 
reflection  upon  historic  recurrences,  to  gather  the  disjointed  vestiges  together  in  order  to  gain  a  how  upo"'  ^*" 
to  construct  such  a  temporary  makeshift  as  may  suit  the  emergency— a  pseudo-re-  '^"^'^^^"^  "•*  cohesion). 
ligious  view  of  life.    What  are  called  religious  systems,  are  in  fact  but  mental  attempts  at  Ept 'to  arrange  an 
formulating  a  somewhat  reasonable  world=consciousness;  they  are  rudiments  of  scientific  gen-  orStS^  "'**^°*^*''°^^ 
eralisation  io  the  search  for  the  center  of  cohesion.  religiousness. 

Wrong  conceptions  symbolised  and  mixed  with  fragments  of  truth;  natural 
forces  of  mental  moods  personified  and  mixed  with  absolute  self  delusions  constitute 
that  world-consciousness.  The  less  man  understands  the  meaning  of  the  component 
elements,  the  more  anxious  will  he  hold  fast  to  their  mere  symbols.  The  being  en- 
gaged in  this  exercise  is  very  beneficial  nevertheless.  In  the  search  for  a  hold,  man  is 
unknowingly  seized  by  higher  longings  and  drawn  away  from  the  abyss  of  positive 
demonolatry.  These  hapless  exertions,  however,  show  also  the  reason  why  in  all  self- 
Invented  religious  methods  the  pristine  stratum  reappears,  like  a  water  spot  strikes 
through  the  plastering,  and  shines  through  the  lacquer  of  mere  outward  culture. 

It  seems  to  have  been  suflEiciently  shown  why  we  are  unable  to  accredit  much 
value  to  such  religio-rationalistic  schematising  or  methodising  of  religious  obliga- 
tions and  gravings  into  schedules  of  continually  advancing  and  well  defined  stages. 

Modern  attempts  to  arrange  the  course  of  mythical  religion,  in  the  way  as  botany 
was  systematised  by  Linne,  Couvier,  etc.,  either  arise  from  selfconceit  or  produce  it. 
Dialectics  is  carried  into  religious  history ;  wish  becomes  father  to  the  thought ;  and  the 
history  of  religion,  intricate  enough  already,  is  rendered  the  more  confused.    Man  in 
his  less  experienced  stage  of  life  usually  goes  by  impulses  and  inclinations;  he  is 
sensuous  merely,  like  the  child  in  the  first  years  of  its  growth;  whilst  in  his  maturity  Nature-bound  man 
he  is  apt  to  disregard  the  feelings,  and  to  become  onesided  on  the  part  of  reason.    We  emÄ^tÄy 
have  had  occasion  to  observe,  in  what  an  eccentric  and  erratic,  in  what  a  capricious  '*^'°''   michkiet. 
and  often  selfworshiping  manner  fancy  either  wanders  or  becomes  a  fixed  idea.     We 
have  seen  and  shall  see  still  more,  how  the  most  faint  and  incongruous  recollections 
are  yoked  together.    Sometimes  even  written  and  official  forms  of  cultured  conscious-  wandering,  shifting 
ness  suddenly  change  and  get  mixed  up,  just  as  languages  do.    We  have  contempo-  bTseif-made  rengiönt?* 
raneous  parallels  in  which  the  changes,  wanderings,  and  leapings  of  religious  notions 
and  rites  will  baffle  any  attempt  to  construct  a  theory  of  natural  religion.    Nobody 
will  ever  succeed  to  derive  one  from  spontaneous  generation.    Michelet  made  a  clear 
breast  of  the  matter  in  his  scientific  confession,  illustrating  a  felicitous  return  from 
confusion  to  logic.    Where  he  framed  a  formula  for  that  phase  of  consciousness 
which  unconsciously  labors  under  the  prejudice  of  lingual  and  mythological  evolu? 
tion,  he  described  individual  man  at  that  stage  of  development  as  being  enraptured 
by  the  immediate  view  of  the  objects  around  and  the  discoveries  within  himself. 


112 


DETERMINING  INFLUENCES  MOLDING  CHARACTER.  11.  A.  Ch.  Vm.  §  47. 


Religious  under- 
current deter- 
mine the  shape 
of  every  age  and 
nation. 

8  21,  43,  62,  54,  56,  93 


Character  molded  not 
from  within  alone. 


Uuder  influence  of 
environment  after 
relapse  nnder  natural 
necessity. 


Influences  from  the 
transcendental  worlds 
of  light  and  of 
darkness. 


Necessary  to  discrimi- 
nate between  the  factors 
influencing  the  forma- 
tion of  national 
character. 


wrapped  up,  in  an  atmosphere  of  mere  instinctive  feelings.  No  description  more 
cogent  and  terse  could  have  been  given  of  that  condition  of  man  which  we  term 
"nature-bound",  notwithstanding  the  amount  of  rational  virtuosity  he  may  possess. 

Do  the  facts  bear  us  out  in  this  conception  of  heathenism,  when  history  is  made 
to  test  our  theory? 

The  specific  character  of  a  people  is  the  result  not  only  of  external  but  rather  of 
internal  conditions.  Humanity  in  each  of  its  parts,  in  every  one  of  its  ages  and 
countries,  will  without  exception  shape  itself  in  conformity  with  the  religious  under- 
current.   This  determining  influence  never  dares  to  be  ignored  by  our  Philosophy. 

But  notwithstanding  the  individual  or  national  propensities  and  the  selfdeter- 
mination  required  for  the  formation  of  character  from  within,  we  find  every  person 
conditioned  also  by  environments.  Much  of  life's  course  depends  upon  inherited 
temperament,  and  is  limited  by  the  nature  of  its  surroundings,  especially  since  the 
relapse  under  natural  necessity  and  in  proportion  to  the  extent  of  the  relapse.  In 
addition  life's  course  depends  on  the  work  engaged  in,  and  upon  influences  exerted 
by  one  nation  upon  the  other.  Above  all,  man's  life  is  affected  and  almost  governed 
by  a  transcendental  world,  either  of  light  or  of  darkness,  for  the  influences  of  which 
man  is  accessible,  of  which  scientifically,  however,  we  possess  a  knowledge  so  limited 
that  science,  judging  the  matter  after  its  purely  inductive  methods,  denies  the  possi- 
bility of  knowing  anything  at  all  about  it. 

Hereditary  transmission,  modification  and  adaptation  produce  further  changes 
and  give  rise  to  ever  new  conditions  and  perplexities.  With  reference  to  this  mor- 
phology it  will  become  evident  why  it  is  very  necessary  to  discriminate  between 
direct  and  intermediate  adaptedness  and  accomodation. 

By  direct  accommodation  we  mean  adaptness  to  such  modifying'  circumstances  as 
food,  climate,  involuntary  habituation  to  national  customs  and  usages,  etc.,  which  rule  the 
particular  social  organism  during  the  time  in  which  the  frame  of  mind  in  a  person,  or  the  char- 
acter of  a  nation,  begins  to  take  shape.  Inasmuch  as  such  influences  are  not  plainly  observa- 
ble, they  must  not  be  considered  without  scrutiny. 

By  indirect  or  intermediate  adaptation  we  mean  adaptness  to  such  hereditary  modiflca-^ 
tions  as  show  themselves  in  the  descendants  of  individual  personages. 

Proper  discretion  after  that  method  renders  the  knowledge  of  the  mode  of  socio- 
logical differentiation  with  reference  to  the  division  of  labor,  the  origin  of  castes,  the 
formation  of  class-lines,  etc.,  more  distinct  and  preventive  of  serious  mistakes. 
Much  the  more  is  it  necessary  to  classify  the  molding  influences  and  to  distinguish 
between  the  differentiating  principles,  since  we  are  now  put  to  the  task  of  discerning 
national  origins  from  among  a  chaos  of  races. 


CH.  VIIl.    CLASSIFICATION  OF  THE  ETHNICAL  MATERIAL. 


Chaos  of 
prehistoric  races 


§  47.  Surveying  the  ethnical  mass,  not  singling  out  any  particular  nation,  ir- 
respective even  of  our  "first  circle",  let  us  look  at  the  chaos  as  we  would  look  upon  a 
geological  stratification.  To  begin  with,  we  draw  a  line  from  the  mouth  of  the 
Obi  to  Cape  Comorin,  thus  dividing  the  great  proscenium  upon  which  prehistoric  his- 
SfJation  ^pJopies^*  ^^^^  ^^^  cuacted.  This  line  intersects  the  Himalayas  and  part  of  the  Tibetian 
is  traceable.  »51, 57.  piateau,  crosses  the  Alps  of  the  Tian-Shan,  the  steppes  of  the  Kirgheeze;  and  the  Si- 
berian lowlands. 

The  smaller  half,  Europe  included,  lies  to  the  left  of  our  line.  To  the  right  we 
have  the  immense  regions  of  the  Gobi  desert,  of  China  and  Farther  India.  This  line 
we  will  have  to  study  more  closely  in  the  sequel.  Its  middle  part  passes  over  the 
great  crest  and  watershed  of  Ethnography,  the  "Roof  of  the  World"  as  the  western 
boundary  line  of  the  Pamir  plateau  is  called,  and  the  Tarim  basin  sloping  down 
toward  the  great  "Sand  Sea"  of  the  Gobi  in  the  east.  This  sea-bed  of  the  old  Asiatic 
Mediterranean  is  a  mixed  variety  of  steppes;  they  present  depressions  in  which  most 
of  the  streams  flowing  down  from  surrounding  clay  bluffs  either  run  dry,  or  form 
salty  marshes  encircled  by  poplars  and  willows. 


The  ethnographical 
watershed : 
Central  Asia. 


II.  A.  Ch.  Vni.  §  47.  IXFLUENCES  OF  MIGRATION.  113 

The  most  abandoned  part  of  the  grlobe,  closed  in  by  enormous  mountains  covers  a  broad 
belt  of  Asia,  extending  through  twenty  degrees  of  latitude.    The  length  of  the  Russian  mail  Gobi,  the  "Land  8«a," 
line  from  Kiuchta  to  Kalgun  is  nearly  1000  miles,  whilst  the  distance  of  the  whole  series  of  con-  ^'^'=«  »  '*''«• 
tiguous  deserts,  rarely  interspersed  with  an  oasis,  measures  a  little  more  than  that  between 
New  York  and  San  Francisco.    The  name  of  the  largest  and  treeless  portion  is  Han-hai,  where 
not  even  Chinese  squatters  are  eager  to  settle. 

Colonel  Prschewalsky  was  the  last  so  far,  excepting  a  few  Chinese  traders,  who  roamed  Pbschbwalsbt. 
through  that  part  of  the  Gobi.    It  took  him  two  weeks  of  hurried  travel  over  the  Mushum 
strip.    He  could  report        no  other  discovery  but  that  of  coarse,  red  sand ;  sand  and  spots 
strewn  with  sharp  stones  and  skeletons.    The  thermometer  went  up  to  119,  and  the  heat  of  the 
ground  was  185  degrees  Fahrenheit. 

The  supposition  that  the  whole  Aralo-Caspian  low-lands  also  were  covered  by  waters  to  Araio-Caspian  depres- 
a  considerable  depth  until  long  after  the  Gobi  had  absorbed  the  brine  of  the  great  Asiatic  in-  by  water. 
land  lake,  is  sustained  on  palpable  grounds.  If  this  were  the  case,  then  the  northern  and  east- 
ern slopes  of  the  Thian-Shan  systems  must  have  ofPered  very  inviting  abodes,  full  of  springs 
and  verdure  to  early  settlers.  In  the  Tarira,  and  about  the  Gobi  even,  the  climate  must  have 
been  well  suited  for  forests  and  pastures.  But  the  situation  totally  changed  when  the  waters 
of  the  ocean  and  the  Caspian  basin  receded  from  each  other,  when  the  contracting  waves  left 
dry  sands  and  salty  steppes,  when  shifting  dunes  enlarged  the  barren  area. 

By  the  change  of  climate  thus  ensuing,  the  interior  of  Asia  became  too  sterile  to  produce  Change  of  ciimau. 
enough  food  for  the  inhabitants,  who  also  receded. 

The  nomade  tribes  roaming  in  the  lake  regions  now  high  and  dry  knew  of  but  People  left  the 
two  outlets  in  the  ring-walls  of  their  high  mountains,  of  only  two  gates  from  which  Tarim  *" 
to  descend  into  geographically  better  articulated  countries  nearer  to  the  sea  coasts.  "^'""^  ^  ^^' "' 

Remusat     has    found  important  hints  in  Chinese  legends  confirming  such  con-  ^■•""'** 
jectures. 

One  of  these  passes  opens  toward  the  east,  where  in  one  valley  a  tributary  to  the  J^ounfaiÄsrs" 
Hoang-ho  is  forming.   The  hordes  following  this  furrow  descended  into  that  region 
which  now  forms  one  of  the  most  fertile  parts  of  the  Chinese  empire. 

The  other  pass,  leading  westward,  opens  upon  the  Pelu  terraces.  From  Lake 
Sairam-nor  the  road  leads  through  the  pass  in  the  Talki  range  toward  Kuldja.  The  Turanians 
large  Dsungarian  depression  is  connected  with  these  western  terraces  and  ofifers  the 
wanderers-facilities  for  pushing  on  their  descending  journey.  More  than  once  count- 
less hordes  have  poured  down  from  these  outlets  upon  the  people  of  the  West,  their 
precursors.  The  Scythian  low-lands  especially  were  overrun  by  great  numbers,  when  '""eÄutilS'erJ'^ 
in  the  third  century  B.  C.  the  overflow  toward  the  east  was  checked  by  the  Chinese 
wall  and  was  made  to  recoil  with  augmented  force  toward  the  west  through  the 
Dsungarian  outlet.  But  many  centuries  before  that  time  already  the  Scythians  had 
made  formidable  invasions  into  Mesopotamia  and  -älgypt,  bidding  defiance  even  to 
the  superior  tactics  of  Cyrus,  Darius,  and  Alexander. 

From  these  ethnical  fountain-heads  of  Bolor,  Tagh  or  Pamir,  and  the  barren  basin  western  Mongolians. 
of  the  Tarim  the  torrents  of  the  Turanian  floods  spread  everywhere.  They  occupied  those 
countries  of  enormous  expanse  which  henceforth  were  held  by  the  Turanian  tribes  of  ugro-Tatarsorscythians 
the  Ugro-Tatars.    From  the  highlands  of  Central  Asia  the  first  emigration  radiated 
through  a  wide,  fan-shaped  semi-circle,  stretching  from  Lapland  through  Siberia  to 
America  down  to  Peru,  encompassing  even  the  island-groups  of  the  Pacific. 

All  Mongolian  nations  are  of  Turanian  origin.    By  many  common  characteristics  they  ^^^"^  Mongolians. 
are  as  easily  generalised  as  those  nations  which  belong  to  the  basin  of  the  European  Mediter- 
ranean, the  Caucasians. 

The      four  main  branches  are:    (1.)  the  Northern  Asiatics,  the  Mongolians  proper;  (2.)  j^merican 
the  Chinese  and  Siamese-  (3.)  the  Koreans  and  Japanese;  (4.)  the  Malayans.    Subdivisions  of  Indians 
them  are  the  Tungusians,  East-Jakians  Kamptshatkians,  Korjaekans,  Tshukchians,  Esqui- 
maux,   Aleutians,  and  the  American  aborigines,  north  and  south. 

The  western  Mongolians  are  still  more  diversified.  Some  of  them  have  returned  to  the 
eastern  parts  where  they  form  erratic  clusters.  As  Ugro-Tatarian  fragments,  casting  their  lot  are  Mongolians. 
with  the  Caucasians  we  enumerate:  the  Khirgeeze,  Huns,  Avars,  and  Turks ;  many  tribes  of 
Russia  mixed  with  Slavonic  elements  as  for  instance  the  Mordvinians  along  the  Volga,  the 
Watjakians  along  the  Dwina  and  up  the  Ural ;  the  Esthnians,  Finns,  and  Lapps  around  the  Bal- 
tic ;  the  Tatars  of  Kasan  and  the  Krimea,  including  Bashkeers  and  Jacutes ;  also  the  Samojedes 
camping  north  and  east  of  the  Behring  straits. 

The  Aleutian  islands  furnished  the  bridge  for  the  most  energetic  roamers  bound  for 
Alaska.  For  Alex.  v.  Humboldt's  supposition  is  verified,  thatthe  Indians  are  decidedly  of  Mon- 
golian descent. 

Ebrard  has  demonstrated  and  corroborated  what  Rougemont  and  Bradford  had  advanc- 
ed, when  he  speaks  of  the  Malayan  and  Ugro-Finnish  cultures  in  America.  Ratzel's  pictures 
of  the  feather- masks  of  Hawaii  plainly  show  the  same  type  as  the  figures  from  Palanke.    The 


lU 


ETHNICAL  DESCENT  OF  VARIOUS  PEOPLES. 


n  A.  ch.  vm.  §  48. 


EbRARO,  RoUflEMONT, 

Bbadfobi,  Ratzel, 
MOIHB,  Pkscukl. 


Botokudes  are  Chinese. 


Mongoln-Malayans  of 
the  Pacific  Ocean. 


Fb.  Mvelleb  and  Keanb 
on  difference  between 
Melanesians  and 
Polynesians. 


The  Papua: 

ScHLSUriTZ,    ViBCBOW. 


Turanians  of  the 
South-Sea  remnants  of 
most  ancient  Malayans 


are  becoming  people  of 
consequence. 


Mongrolo  and 
Negrito- 
Malayans 

unhistorical. 


Hamito-Cushites  spread 
over  the  South. 
Asiatic  origin.     Lxpsius. 


Legends  of  the  Kohls. 


Semito-Cushites. 


Sumero- Akkadians- 


Phenicians  form  the 
basis  of  Chaldean 
culture.    Maspbbo. 


Chaldeans.    Hxirxk. 


Semites. 


same  is  the  case  with  his  pictures  of  idols  discovered  upon  the  Easter-Islands.  Mothe's  il- 
lustrated work  shows  stone  figures  of  Farther  India,  the  physiognomies  of  which  are  exactly 
like  those  of  Aztecian  sculptures.  Pruner  Bey  and  Peschel  observed  long  ago,  that  the  heads 
of  the  Botokudes  of  Brazil  differ  not  much  from  those  of  the  Chinese.  The  heads  of  people  of 
Toltecian  descent  have  almost  the  very  shape  of  those  of  the  Javanese  Malayans.  Especially 
striking  is  the  similarity  of  the  red  man  of  America  with  the  New-Zealander. 

The  Mongolo-Malayans  of  the  Pacific  require  special  attention.  Their  characteristics 
are  decidedly  Turanian.  They  proceeded  from  their  original  seats  in  Central  Asia  in  a  south- 
western direction  and  passed  across  the  Indian  archipelago.  We  can  still  trace  their  route  to 
Buru,  an  island  of  the  Moluccian  group,  then  to  Samoa  and  Tonga.  From  these  centers  they 
populated  one  group  of  islands  after  another.  In  contrast  to  the  Melanesians  of  negro  origin 
they  are  called  Polynesians.  They  extend  to  the  Caroline  Islands.  This  is  upheld  by  Fr. 
Mueller  against  Keane,  who  among  others  argued  against  the  kindredship  of  Malayans  and 
Polynesians,  taking  the  latter  for  a  degenerated  branch  of  the  Maoris.  On  this  subject  further 
information  and  results  of  investigation  are  to  be  waited  for. 

Another  stream  of  emigration  must  have  started  from  New  Guinea.  It  is  the  Papua 
branch,  which  came  to  the  islands  southwest  of  New  Guinea  to  Australia  and  its  surround- 
ings, in  the  earliest  times. 

Traces  of  the  existence  of  these  first  occupants  have  been  found  elsewhere,  so  that 
Wallace  counted  them  as  a  separate  family  from  the  Malayans  and  Polynesians.  To  the  Papua 
probably  belong  the  Negritos  which  are  found  as  far  north  as  the  Philippine  Islands.  Types 
very  similar  to  them  are  found  in  the  interior  of  Borneo  and  Sumatra,  even  upon  Malacca. 
Peschel  denominates  them  "  Asiatic  Papua".  If  we  count  them  all  in  as  Virchow,  Semper  and 
Fr.  Mueller  do,  then  a  large  playground  is  conceded  to  the  Papua,  reaching  from  Andamanes 
and  Malacca  across  Borneo  over  to  the  Solomon  Islands,  to  New  Caledonia  and  New  Guinea ; 
it  would  also  take  in  the  Charlotte  Islands  and  the  New  Hebrides.  Even  all  Melanesians  we 
may  then  consider  as  fractions  of  the  Papua  race  because  with  reference  to  language  they 
stand  between  the  Polynesians  and  Malayans. 

All  these  nations,  spread  over  the  islands  of  the  South-Sea,  are  without  any  history; 
that  dark  race,  which  v.  Schleinitz  has  introduced  to  us  as  being  the  conquerors  of 
all  the  others,  least  of  all— for  it  seems  to  have  existed  only  in  his  hypothesis.  We 
have  taken  a  survey  of  the  wide  semi-circle  of  the  Turanian  peoples.  It  embraces 
the  north  of  the  eastern  and  the  whole  of  the  western  hemispheres,  solidifying  into 
the  most  antique  culture  of  unrivaled  permanency.  The  survey  may  have  seemed 
tedious  and  unprofitable.  But  before  long  all  these  people  will  become  historical, 
so  that  we  shall  meet  them  again  and  again.  We  may  just  as  well  accustom 
ourselves  to  the  study  of  their  nomenclature,  because  we  shall,  henceforth,  hear  more 
and  more  of  them,  in  the  "Dailies  "  perhaps  as  much  as  in  Missionary  Magazines. 
At  present  history  is  interested  in  them  only  in  so  far  as  they  form  the  nethermost 
stratum  of  our  substructure.  Upon  these  ethnic  layers,  this  Turanian  basis,  other 
types  reared  their  structures,  as  for  instance  the  young  nation  of  the  United  States. 

§  48.  The  Hamito-Semitic  nations,  according  to  Lepsius,  also  descended  from 
Central- Asia.  The  Hamite  family  is  represented  in  history  by  its  main  branch,  the  - 
Cushites.  As  such  the  most  ancient  occupants  of  Southern  Arabia,^thiopia,  Habesh 
(Abissynia)  and  Nubia  are  recognised.  The  Doms  and  Kohls  in  India,  upon  the  Sunda 
Islands  and  the  Philippines  are  considered  as  Hamites;  we  find  them  as  Melanesians, 
Negritoes,  as  Alfurus,  and*  perhaps  as  the  Papua.  Everywhere  these  races  seem 
to  have  been  forced  into  the  mountains  by  Mongolians,  or  down  to  the  lowest  caste  by 
other  nations.  Everywhere  they  are  of  slender  stature  with  black  skin  and  woolly  hair. 
Here  and  there,  as  in  the  case  of  the  Kohls  especially,  we  find  tribal  legends  of  highest 
antiquity.  In  the  first  place  they  spread  from  the  Ganges  to  the  Nile.  In  the  regions 
around  the  Persian  Gulf  they  were  the  first  settlers,  from  whence  they  crossed  to  the 
eastern  shore  of  Africa;  they  interlinked  the  movements  between  that  and  Ceylon,  so 
that  Lepsius  calls  them  the  Phenicians  of  those  times.  In  fact,  their  ancestral  blood 
ran  in  the  veins  of  the  Philistines  and  Punians,  since  they  reappeared  in  Mesopotamia 
and  there  mixed  with  Turanians,  and  later  on  with  the  Semites. 

The  Cushites  yielded  the  material  from  which  the  Chaldean  empires  were  constructed ; 
for  if  we  follow  Maspero,  the  Susanian  people  became  agglomerated  into  the  Elamite  empire. 
On  the  other,  the  western  side  of  the  Tigris,  the  Sumerians  and  Akkadians  intermingling 
afforded  the  first  elements  of  culture  to  the  Chaldeans. 

The  question,  who  were  the  Chaldeans,  has,  ever  since  Heeren  pondered  over  it,  remained 
"one  of  the  knotty  problems  of  history."  We  regard  them  as  the  aborigines  of  Arabia  and 
denominate  them  Southern  Semites.  At  an  early  period  they  pressed  northward  into  Syria 
and  Mesopotamia  and  became  Northern  Semites  with  Babylonia  as  their  center.  They 
branched  out  into  Babylonians,  Assyrians,  Aramaeans,  Canaanites  and  Israelites.  That  part 


n.  A.  CH.  Vni.  §  48.      SOUTHERN  AND  WESTERN  ARYANS.  115 

of  them    known  as     Hittites  will  prove,  most  likely,  to  have  been  the  first  bearers  of  culture  Hittites,  the  bearers  of 
to  Greece.    The  recent  excavations  in  Hamath  (on  the  Orontes)  and  in  Sindshirli,  corroborat-  *^"  ""^^  °    "*°*" 
ing  the  Cyprian  discoveries,  strongly  indicate  this.     Blend  the  views  of  Maspero  and  Schrader 
and  the  proof  is  established  that  the  ancestors  of  both  the  Cushite  and   Semite  families  de-  views  of  Maspero  and 
scended  from  Central-Asia.    Schrader  formerly  derived  them  from  Arabia ;  but  of  late  he  has  Schrader  blended  prove 

1  <•  ....  1      -^  ^L     .     -«      •  .1  1  ....  the  Central-Asiatic 

shown  more  of  an  inclination  to  admit  that  their  northern  home  was  in  the  vicinity  of  the  descent  of  Cushites  and 
Aryans.  S«°'''««- 

When  the  Schlagintweit  brothers  (vol.  IV.  of  their  "Travels")  had  been  so  Remnants  of  the  Aryan 
fortunate  as  to  surmount  yonder  eastern  pass  in  the  Kuen-Lun  range,  and  arrived  at  scn'illiwTwwr '"^*'* 
the  northern  slope,  they  were  astonished  to  meet  Aryans  pure  and  simple.     These 
good  people,  who  were  shepherds  and  had  never  heard  of  nor  seen  any  European,  pas- 
tured their  flocks  in  the  far  expanding  plains  of  Khokan  and  Jarkand.     People  of  Primitive  home  of 
"splendid  physique,  beautiful  normal  shape"  they  are,  and  well  provided,  surprisingly  "^ "  ermans. 
so,  with  all  the  necessaries  of  life.    Thus  the  old  supposition  became  confirmed,  that 
here  is  the  primitive  home  of  the  Indo-Germans.      From  here,  for  the  first  time,  they  "Westward"  for  the 
started  "westward"!    Some  of  them  betook  themselves  to  the  South.    The  one  stream 
went  through  the  passes  of  the  Caucasus  into  the  Sarmatian  plains  of  Europe;  the 
other  found  room  and  the  welcome  of  a  mild  climate  in  the  Punjab  and  in  Hindoostan. 
But  the  latter  also  found  the  best  parts  preoccupied  by  Turano -Mongolian  as  well  as 
by  Hamito-Semitic  tribes,  forming  the  Drawidian  substratum.    The  Mahabharadha 
describes  the  conflict  with  them. 

Looking- upon  these  Southern  Aryans  we  notice  a  lively  variety  of  Sanskrit  speaking  Eastern  Aryans: 
people:  Brahmine  Hindoos,  Benghali,  Nipali,  Kashmeers,  Pandjabi,  Hindi,  Marhali,  and  Bilha      South— Sanskrit: 
(Gipsies).    To  the  north  of  them  all  the  Zend  speaking- people  of  Iran :  the  Pehlewi,  Kurdes,        "'^        *"   peop  e. 
Armenians,  Phrygians,  Albanese,  Cappadocians,  Beloodshistans,  Afghans ;  and  the  tribes  of 
Khiva,  Bokhara,  and  Khokan. 

With  the  Western  Aryans,  the  European  branch,  we  are  familiar.  They  comprise  all  Western  Aryans : 
Northern  Europeans,  (except  the  Ugro-Tatarians)  namely,  the  Lithunian  (Prussians)  and  South— Graeco  Romans ; 
Slavonic  peoples  (Slovenians,  Croates,  Serbians,  Wallachians,  Vandals,  Poles,  Czechs,  and 
Basks).  They  also  comprise  the  Southern  Europeans,  viz ;  the  ancient  Gauls  (or  Celts),  the 
Galish  (or  Walish)  the  ancient  Etrurio-Pelasgians,  and  the  Graeco-Romans ;  and  finally  the 
Germanic  nations,  viz :  the  Goths  (or  Getes,  Scandinavians  and  Icelanders)  the  Teutons,  Cymri, 
Friesians,  and  Anglo-Saxons. 

The  mere  mention  of  these  names  indicates  an  ascending  scale  toward  the  high- 
est approach  to  civilisation,  the  task  obviously  assigned  to  the  Aryans  in  the  order 
given. 

Up  to  this  eleventh  hour  of  history  there  remained  to  our  own  time  and  race  the 
duty  to  explore  the  dark  continent,  and  to  call  its  ethnical  chaos  to  order.    There  the  Ethnical  chaos  of 
Teuto-Germans  meet  their  extreme  contraries,  and  yet  their  compeers,  theti'  fellow-  '^*^^°^- 
men  at  any  rate. 

From  the  zenith  of  the  times  and  of  culture  the  Germanic  nations  now  look  back  Advanced  nations  seek 
upon  the  beginnings  of  history;  they  look  after  the  masses  of  long  abandoned  and  *^^  ^^^'^•i»"«^ 
less  fortunate  nations  as  if  searching  for  lost  brethren.    The  five  hundred  millions  of 
Christendom  become  interested  in  the  thousand  millions  outside  of  it.    The  dark 
continent  is  said  to  contain  two  hundred  millions  of  the  latter. 

Ascending  the  terraces  from  the  Nile  and  the  Red  Sea,  Abyssinia  was  rediscovered,  the 
Habesh  of  old  with  its  ancient  culture,  which  once  competed  with  that  of  -ä^gypt.  The  empire 
of  queen  Candace,  in  its  remnants  of  obelisks,  tombs  and  rock-temples,  shows  how  the  Ethio- 
pians were  qualified  to  appreciate  the  culture  of  the  Mizrim,  their  cousins  in  ^gypt.  Like  Ethiopian»  followed  by 
sandstone  lying  upon  beds  of  granite,  so  we  find  the  fixed  and  massive  substratum  of  earliest  JntoYhe''MiiHm '^'*°*' 
inhabitants  below  the  loose  fragments  of  Arab  emigration.  The  remnants  of  this  later 
Arabian  overflow  cover  the  primitive  culture  of  Hamito-Semitic  natives  in  Ethiopia  and 
Nubia  just  as  we  found  ik  on  the  lower  Nile  and  on  the  Euphrates. 

Lepsius  believed  it  to  be  indubitable  that  the  African  races  formed  a  unit.    He  Africans  supposed  to 

,    ,  ...  have  formed  a  national 

tried  to  prove  an  original  unity  of  languages,  necessary  for  this  supposition.    The  "^^^^  lkpsius. 
multiplicity  of  them  he  took  for  the  result  of  historical  accidents.    Very  well;  then  This  supposition  woum 
we  would  have  an  original  unity,  followed  by  conflict,  rupture,  dispersion  and  de-  humanity'""*^"' 
generation  of  nations,  tongues  and  minds.    But  whence  would  the  essential  unity  KaiBrs  surmised  to  be 
have  to  be  derived?    Obviously  from  the  first  migrations  across  the  isthmus  of  Suez.  ''^  ^"^""^  '^''"'°* 

At  the  foot  of  the  Blue  Mount,  upon  the  vast  Kaffrarian  hunting  grounds,  which  swarm 
with  giraffes,  antelopes,  and  buffaloes,  certain  Kaffir  tribes  wander  about  who  can  not  deny  system  of 
their  Hebrew  features,  altho  absolute  proof  of  such  relationship  can  not  be  adduced.    A  trav-  African 
eler  who  started  from  the  Babiroa  writes  however:  "It  is  undeniable  that  the  Kaffirs  not  only  ^^^^^^^^^' 
resemble,     but  are  blood-relatives  of,  the  Jews.     They  vividly  relate  the  story  of  the  g^reat 


116 


CONTUSION  OF  LANGUAGES. 


n.  A.  ch.  vm.  §  49. 


Middle  zone  of  African 
languages.    Stzihthal. 


ninstr.  the  first 
confusion  of  languages, 
and  subsequent  national 
decline. 


Second  inundation  of 
Africa:     Hottentots. 


Identity  of  the  Shagga, 
Wazimba  and  Galla. 


Their  present  quarters)} 
since  A.  D.  1585. 
Mbbekskt. 


Movements  of  the 
Fellatah,  Hottentots, 
Tuaregs. 


Somali  rather  Caucasian. 

BUBTOK. 


Scene  at  Kartoom. 


ViacHow's 
brachy-cephaly. 


flood,  and  even  know  something  of  Noah's  ark.  Mount  Ararat,  (madi-ma-the)  is  the  point, 
they  say,  from  whence  they  came,  The  laws  of  stoning,  of  the  preparation  of  food,  not  to 
mention  circumcision,  come  so  near  the  Jewish  ceremonials  as  to  astonish  one." 

In  his  Nubian  grammar  Lepsius  laid  down  the  ethnological  system  of  the  African 
nations.  South  of  the  equator  the  Bantu  languages  prevail,  except  with  the  Hotten- 
tots and  Bushmen;  so  that  the  unity  of  languages  there  can  be  established  without 
diflSculty.  In  a  distinct  line  north  of  the  equator  the  other  main  branch  spreads  out, 
comprising  the  .ä^gyptian,  Libyan,  and  Berber  languages.  These  are  Hamitic  idioms 
of  unquestioned  Asiatic  origin.  Even  the  Cushite  sister-languages  spoken  by  the 
Bega,  Soho,  Donkali,  Somali,  and  by  the  Galla  from  the  Kilima-Njaro  to  Babelmandeb, 
belong  to  that  northern  group. 

Now  all  these  distinct  branches  of  each  of  the  two  main  stems  of  languages  intermingle 
in  a  broad  middle  ground  of  negro  dialects,  and  form  puzzling  combinations.  Between  the 
Sahara  and  the  equator  languages  are  mixed  as  indiscriminately  as  the  loose  rubble  around 
Mount  Sinai.  Fr.  Mueller  took  pains  to  catalogue  the  most  typical  and  to  classify  as  many  as 
possible.  With  comparatively  little  trouble  the  mixture  in  these  regions  maybe  accounted 
for ;  but  to  disentangle  them  is  another  thing.  The  mixture  is  not  to  be  taken  as  "the  product 
of  a  quiet,  vegetable  sort  of  development  of  national  life",  as  Steinthal  thinks.  It  must  have 
originated,  rather,  in  persistent  and  hot  contests,  in  violent  clashes  of  tribes  against  each 
other.  Perhaps  "one  nation  was  crushed,  and  its  fragments  were  scattered  beyond  hope  of 
being  fitted  together  again." 

In  short,  we  have  before  us  the  phenomenon  of  a  confusion  of  languages.  The 
subsequent  decline  of  nations  we  see  illustrated  in  the  fate  of  the  Haussa. 

This  is,  as  Lepsius  thought,  Libyan  people,  "degenerated  into  negroes".  In  the  Hotten- 
totian  he  recognises  an  essentially  Hamitic  language,  "taking  its  origin  from  the  Cushite 
branch  of  it."  He  traces  the  Hottentots  as  coming  from  the  northeast  and  as  having  been 
pushed  south.  This  emigration  —which  in  keeping  with  the  original  movement  of  all  na- 
tions over  from  Asia,  we  may  call  the  second  inundation  of  Africa— was  a  Cushite  wave  cover- 
ing the  eastern  shore.  Let  us  dwell  a  few  moments  longer  upon  the  picture  of  an  African 
turmoil ;  we  will  have  no  occasion  to  return  to  it. 

The  African  commotion  repeated  itself,  when  from  the  interior  regions  near  the 
sources  of  the  Congo  and  the  Zambezi  the  Shaggas  (Wazimbas)  pressed  down  upon 
Bantu  negroes,  throwing  themselves  upon  the  Congo  valley.  It  was  then  and  there 
that  the  Portuguese  checked  these  cannibals  whose  leader  had  his  yard  paved  with 
human  skulls  and  bones.  Being  held  in  check,  the  Wazimbas  recoiled  upon  the  Arabs, 
from  whom  they  wrested  Kiloa,  eating  the  garrison  of  3000  men.  Merensky  ascertain- 
ed the  date  of  their  settlement  opposite  the  island  of  Mombas  to  have  taken  place 
A.  D.  1585.  After  that  they  disappear,  or  rather,  what  seems  probable,  they  reappear  as 
the  Galla.  Since  this  people  took  their  present  quarters  north  of  the  Kilima-Njaro 
just,  at  the  period  of  these  great  commotions,  our  inference  can  not  be  termed  pre- 
posterous. 

With  the  moving  of  the  Galla  stands  connected,  at  any  rate,  that  of  the  Fellatah, 
who  then  invaded  Bornu  for  the  first  time.  And  with  theirs  the  migration  of  the 
Mandingo  is  connected,  who,  pressing  on  from  east  to  west,  pushed  aside  the  Kaffirs, 
Basutos  and  Betshuanes,  who  in  turn  pushed  before  them  the  Hottentots— whilst 
into  the  Fellatah  the  Tuaregs  from  the  north  wedged  themselves.  This  Berber  tribe 
from  its  city  of  Timbuctoo  ever  since  continued  to  be  the  most  formidable  foe  of  the 
Fellatah  on  the  Senegal,  who  ceded  the  middle  section  of  the  Niger  to  the  Tuaregs,  re- 
taining for  themselves  the  regions  of  the  headwaters  and  the  mouth  of  that  river. 

Besides  the  illustration  of  the  confusion  of  languages  and  the  disrupture  and  de- 
generacy of  nations  sequent  to  it,  we  see  in  these  African  movements  also  the  example 
of  the  slow  drifting  of  people ;  and  we  become  aware  of  the  difficulty  of  classifying 
such  a  medley  of  ethnical  fragments. 

The  Somali  especially  offer  a  baffting  riddle.  Being  neither  negroes,  nor  Gallas,  nor 
Kaffrarian  Jews,  nor  Hottentots,  they  show  many  Caucasian  ingredients.  In  their  country, 
the  rocky  highlands  of  the  north-eastern  corner  of  South-Africa,  north  of  the  German  pos- 
sessions. Burton  found  them  rendering  homage  to  stones  and  sacred  trees— the  substratum  of 
ancient  paganism  under  the  thin  garb  of  Islam. 

In  the  filthy  streets  of  Kartoom  Arabs  and  Berbers  meet  with  Abyssinians,  and  with  the 
negroes  of  Darfoor  and  from  the  lakes  of  the  Nile.  They  bring  to  market  the  ivory  of  the 
White  Nile,  ostrich  feathers,  gold-dust,  rubber  from  Kordofan,  and  slaves  from  everywhere. 
But  distinct  as  their  national  characters  and  customs  are,  nobody  is  able  to  define  the  ante- 
cedents of  all  these  people  selling  and  being  sold.      Altho  the   measurements  of  40  Wei-and 


n.  A.  CH.  Vm.  §  49.  AMERICAN  INDIANS.  117 

19  Kni-negToes  were  made  under  Virchow's  directions,  no  light  was  shed  upon -the  pedigree  of 

the  West- African  tribes  and  their  eastern  neighbors  by  brachy-cephaly.     Ethnologically  the    • 

African  portion  of  humanity  seems  to  be  dried  up  like  a  mummy  on  the  one  side,  and   tobe 

"a  product  of  degradation"  in  its  most  heinous  forms  on  the  other.    As  such  it  is  known.  But  Slave-trade. 

who  can  realise  African  every-day  life,  especially  since  these  savages  handle  the  rifle  as  the     *^"'*'*'^''*'   <* 

first  gift  from  European  civilisation? 

Kartoom  and  Zanzibar  until  recent  timeä  have  both  been  the  emporium  of  "the  black 
ivory."  Livingston  was  told  by  the  English  consul  at  Zanzibar,  that  the  regions  of  Lake 
Niassa  alone  furnished  19000  slaves  annually.  He  tells  us :  "The  innumerable  skeletons  which 
we  saw  in  the  woods  and  among  the  rocks,  along  the  rivers  and  trails  of  the  wilderness  wit- 
ness the  terrible  sacrifices  made  to  that  infernal  traffic."  Vogel  describing  the  Tibu  as  rem- 
nants of  the  black  aborigines  of  the  desert,  yet  being  neither  negroes  nor  Berbers,  said 
that  slave  trade  is  their  sole  occupation.  "Along  the  road  from  Tegerri  to  Bilma  there  lie 
the  bleached  bones  of  thousands  of  human  beings  upon  the  sand;  and  among  them  corpses 
dried  up  like  mummies  in  the  very  positions  in  which  these  poor  blacks  were  released  by  a  merci- 
ful death  from  their  suif ering.  When  Schweinfurth  came  te  the  Niam-Niam,  who  sparingly 
populate  a  region  of  about  3000  square- miles,  he  witnessed  the  most  sickening  spectacle  in 
front  of  Munsa's  residence.  The  lower  half  of  a  male  corpse,  was  being  handled  by  a  woman 
flaying  it  with  the  expertness  of  a  butcher,  in  the  process  of  preparation  for  supper. 

Vogel  wrote  to  Ehrenberg,  that  "the  Tangalese  on  the  Benue  river  cat  all  their  enemies   AnthroDonhaev 

captured  or  killed  in  battle.     The  breast  belongs  to  the  sultan ;  the  heads  are  given  to  the  the  darkest 

women ;  the  tender  parts  are  dried  in  the  sun,  then  pulverised  and  mingled  with  the  porridge."  riddle  not 

The  darkest  of  all  riddles,  inexplicable  from  premises  of  natural  science,  here  hovers  be-  ^^?,vJ?5'i  if;2««« 
*  m*  t     •  I'l  t      t    »  »  t  -fc  A  natjurai  science, 

fore  us.    Time  may  bring  to  light  many  dark  interiors;  but  the  darkness  of  interior  Africa  is  §  35,  38,  39,  to,  54. 

solid  as  yet  and  covers  unspeakable  horrors.     We  shall  not  return  to  its  nauseating  story  ^ 

It  behooved  us  to  take  a  glance  into  this  abyss  of  abomination ;  to  penetrate  to  the  bottom 

of  it  no  eye  could  endure. 

'  Before  dismissing  the  subject,  however,  we  must  not  leave  unnoticed  one  more 
scene  from  this  huge  continent.  The  large  mangrove-forests  of  river  bottoms  like 
that  of  the  Niger  for  instance,  stretch  out  away  in  the  distance  under  an  oppressive 
monotony.  Perpetual  darkness  reigns,  and  a  solid  spot  is  a  rarity  below  the  evergreen  i«  connected  with  snake 
roof  of  leaves.  The  giant  trees  upon  their  grotesque  root-stocks  rise  up  from  deep  ""^  ancestor-worswp,^ 
morasses.  The  rice-bird  flits  away,  the  golden  eagle  perches  upon  a  death  bough,  but 
a  human  being  is  rarely  met  with.  Whenever  one  appears,  his  whole  behavior 
reminds  one  of  the  spectres  he  dreads.  With  him  all  things  revolve  around  ancestor- 
worship  and  upon  fetishes.  His  bleared  imagination  takes  anything  for  a  fetish, 
but  prefers  the  most  abstruse  object,  be  it  the  head  of  a  snake,  or  a  dried  lizard  in 
lieu  of  it.  ' 

§  49.    Our  survey  of  the  races,  our  investigation  of  the  ethnic  material,  forming  American 
the  substratum  of  history,  requires  one  more  glance  upon  the  dying  Indian  nations  aborigines, 
of  the  "new  world."    Our  retrospect  here  makes  more  sure  of  certain  connections  Mongoio-MaiayM». 
alluded  to  with  the  Mongolo-Malayans. 

In  several  large  droves  they  migrated  to  the  Pacific  coast  of  America.  The  present  in- 
habitants do  not  say  that  they  are  living  "in  the  west",  but  "on  the  coast".  To  them  there  is 
no  west  any  more;  there  is  an  involuntary  feeling  that  the  Pacific  rather  belongs  to  theEast. 
The  meteorologic  conditions  of  the  state  of  Washington  particularly,  have  that  peculiar 
equilibrium  and  affect  the  nerves  similar  to  those  of  Japan  and  Korea. 

But  when  the  Mongolian  came  over  and  went  south,  he  found  natives  there  j^^^i^^  Americans  b«for« 
already,  with  some  nativistic  pretensions,  too,  altho  they  had  been  nothing  but  emi-  *To,£2rind  Stecf. 
grants  themselves,  of  Cushitic  extraction,  most  likely,  from  Polynesia.    By  the  new 
comers,  the  Indians,  they  seem  to  have  been  treated  the  same  as  the  Dravida  were  by 
the  Hindoos. 

The  little  we  know  about  the  first  emigrants  will  forever,  perhaps,  remain  as  proble-    •|kT^,,nj.KriiMers 
matic  as  it  is  now,  on  the  whole,  rather  contradictory.    The  cave-dwellers  and  "cliff-builders"  prior  to  the 
in  Utah,  New  Mexico,  and  Arizona— called  Pueblos  by  Holmes,  seem  not  to  be  as  ancient  as  the  Cliff-dwellers, 
"mound-builders"  of  Oregon,  Ohio,  and  Wisconsin.    Only  so  much  is  sure,  that  the  most  an-    "°'^'*^^- 
tique  culture  in  America  moved  in  the  course  from  north  to  south.  Nahua  of  Chabnat. 

All  those  tribes  which,  between  the  7th.  and  14th.  century  took  their  war  path  across  the  j^^^^^^  „,^,1«  nower- 
Mexican  plateau  to  certain  parts  of  Central  America,  Desire  Charney  calls  Nahuas.  The  first  offerings. 
comers  during  this  second  period  of  immigration  were  the  toltecs,  much  earlier  than  the 
Aztecs.  They  were  tall  men  with  white  beards,  offering  flowers,  their  sacred  place,  Tlaloo. 
Their  structures  at  Tula  show  technical  skill,  and  like  that  at  Teotihoankan,  indicate  energy 
and  eminent  industriousness.  Oppressed  but  emancipating  themselves,  their  empire  broke 
up,  nevertheless,  and  they  went  south.    There  the  Toltecs  exhibited  the  same  kind  of  monu-  introduced 

mental  culture  as  in  Tabasco,  Yucatan,  Guatemala,  etc.  Having  mingled  with  vanquished  human  sacrifiTel 
preoccupants,  and  in  turn  subjugated  by  the  Incas  following  (ca.  1000  A.  D.,  since  the  11th  Inca  First  immigrants 
reign  dates  1453)  the  Toltecs  must  have  formed  the  substratum  of  their  empire.    It  has  beeu   Pushed  south  a^,  far  as 

conjectured,  that  Toltecian- Polynesian  remnants  fled  from  their  oppressors  to  ward  the  South,     *"*   ^    °*^° 
in  order  to  account  for  the  inhabitation  of  the  dreary  cliffs  of  Terra  del  Fuego, 


118 


DEGiENERACY  INTO  A  STATE  OF  SAVAGEBY. 


n.  A.  CH.  IX.  §  50. 


Tshuktchis  and 
Esquimaux    understand 
each  other.     E.  Bbowk. 


Botokudes.    Tschtdi. 


Origin  of  American 
Indians. 

MOBTON,  PBITCHASD. 


Their  degeneracy. 
Mabtims. 


Tasmanians  of  Australia. 

CUER. 


Asiatic  origin  of  all 
men.    Bonwick. 


The  aim  of  this 
ethnologic  outline 


In  keeping  with 
cyclical  course  of 
history. 

Progress  returns  to 
points  from  which  it 
started. 


The  flower  offering  men  in  Central- America  were  Mongolians,  and,  to  all  appearances, 
Japanese.  The  settlers  flooding  upon  them  from  China  founded  the  aztec  empire  upon  the 
Toltecian  ruins,  and  introduced  human  sacrifices  on  Mexican  soil.  Further  north  the 
Tshuktchis  left  their  traces  in  crossing  the  Aleutes.  And  not  only  the  Calif  ornian  Mona  are  of 
explicit  Finno-Tataric  origin,  but  also  the  Delawares  and  Susquehannasand  Wyomings  from 
the  neighborhood  of  Washington,  D.  C.  and  all  the  seventy  tribes  of  North — and  the  thirty 
tribes  of  South  America. 

R.  Brown  said  long  ago :  "The  Esquimo  on  the  American  and  the  Tshuktchis  on  the  Asiatic 
side  perfectly  understand  each  other."  Equally  afl&rmative  of  our  conclusions  do  the  tradi- 
tions of  the  Indians,  who  once  roamed  about  the  "eastern  shore",  fully  agree  with  those  upon 
the  western  plains.— Tschudy  directed  the  attention  to  the  marvelous  similarity  of  the  Boto- 
kudes of  Brazil  with  the  Chinese  as  mentioned  befor.e.  And  if  it  is  an  image  of  Buddha,  which 
was  found  in  Yucatan,  as  it  is  supposed  to  be,  it  would  seem  too  rare  a  case  as  to  afford  the 
final  proof  for  an  early  Chinese  influx.    Yet  it  tells  much  in  favor  of  such  a  supposition. 

Morton,  who  took  the  Indians  as  a  product  of  the  soil  and  "spontaneous  generation",  has 
long  ago  been  refuted  by  Pritchard  who  coincided  with  this  view  of  Martius:  "The  nations  of 
the  new  world  were  not  in  a  state  of  primitive  barbarism,  nor  living  in  a  state  of  the  original 
simplicity  of  an  uncultivated  mind.  On  the  contrary.  They  represent  the  last  remains  (about 
half  a  million  in  North-America)  of  a  people  once  high  on  the  scale  of  culture  and  mental  at- 
tainments, now  almost  worn  out  and  perishing,  sunk  to  the  lowest  point  of  dismay  and  de- 
gradation." In  all  this  we  perceive  an  unambiguous  example  of  that  degeneracy  into  a  state 
of  savagery,  which  repudiates  the  theory  of  evolution, with  its  claim  of  a  far  more  remote  be- 
ginning of  chronological  computations  than  our  seven  or  eight  thousand  years  of  human  ex- 
istence, with  their  sufficiency  to  account  for  the  changing  modes  of  development  and  decline. 

We  must  not  close  our  retrospect  of  the  forsaken  families  of  the  human  race 
without  a  notice  of  the  main  stock  of  the  Australians— the  Tasmanians.  Like  the 
Papua  of  New  Guinea  and  upon  the  Solomon  and  Fiji  Islands,  like  the  Drawida  in 
India,  they  present  a  peculiar  phenomenon  by  themselves. 

Curr's  work  on  Australia  with  its  description  of  239  tribes  (London  1886)  has  contributed 
much  to  the  completion  of  the  ethnological  index.  But  the  enunciations  made  therein,  have 
not  weakened  the  force  of  our  axiom  which  is  endorsed  by  Bonwick,  namely,  that  the  funda- 
mental layers  of  all  these  tribes  gradually  shifted  over  from  Asia,  either  in  waves,  or  by  ter- 
race-like driftings,  and  that  they  are  all  of  Mongolian  descent. 

A  very  condensed  sketch  only  of  the  ethnological  chart  could  be  outlined  upon 
these  pages,  since  our  aim  was  simply  to  show  the  ethnic  strata  in  their  driftings 
and  depositions  of  prehistoric  people.  It  represents  the  gist  of  such  conclusions  as 
drawn  by  authorities  like  Waitz,  Bastian,  Peschel,  Pritchard,  Ranke,  Ratzel.  The 
perusal  of  a  few  ethnographical  periodicals  will  afford  more  satisfactory  information 
on  this  subject. 

We  started  out  from  the  Mongolian  body  of  nations,  all  speaking  the  monosyllabic 
Turanian  languages.  We  went  along  with  the  Hamito-Cushite-Semitic  people  and 
with  the  Aryans  upon  their  wanderings.  Having  thus  made  the  rounds  of  the 
earth,  we  again  met  the  Mongolians,  scattered  broadcast  and  lost  so  long,  in  worlds 
but  recently  discovered. 

Is  not  past  and  contemporaneous  history  taking  the  same  course?  Just  think  of 
the  meetings  which  took  place  amongst  these  old  races  with  Guetziaff,  Gordon. 
Stanley,  Livingstone,  Dr.  Schnitzler  (or  Emin  Bey)  ;  with  Haddington  and  Merenpky. 
And  keep  in  mind  that  a  host  of  missionaries,  represented  by  the  four  enumerated, 
were  the  pioneer  philanthropists  in  the  endeavor  to  regain  forlorn  men  for  their 
high  destiny. 

Think  what  old  memories  will  revive,  when  the  Danube  problem  shall  unroll  the 
"Eastern  question."  Think  of  the  legislation  in  the  United  States  against  the 
smuggling  in  of  coolies  and  opium,  and  of  the  recent  Russian  transactions  with 
China.  Think  of  the  310th.  translation  of  the  "Scripture"  now  nearly  complete  upon 
the  isle  of  Efat  near  Erromanga  in  the  group  of  the  New  Hebrides,  where  now  the 
sons  of  the  murderer  who  killed  John  Williams  sixty  years  ago  teach  theology  !  It 
all  means  that  history  returns  to  the  places  from  whence  it  started.  Both  ends  of 
the  historic  movement  are  on  the  approach  to  perfect  the  cyclical  course. 


Bnle  for  the  analysis  of 
the  ethnical  compound, 
so  as  to  establish  the 
unity  of  humanity  in 
the  diversity 
of  races 


CH.  IX.    DIFFERENTIATION  OF  THE  ETHNICAL  MASS. 

§  50.  As  yet  we  are  confronted  by  the  ethnical  bulk  covering  the  wide  earth.  What 
principle  shall  guide  us  in  discerning  a  point  from  which  to  unravel  the  entangled 
mass  in  order  to  arrange  it  under  proper  topics? 


n.  A.  CH.  rX.  §  50.  PRINCIPLES  OF  ETHNICAL  CLASSIFICATION.  119 

An  illustration  may  give  us  light.  ^^^  ^,^^  ^^^^  ^^^^  ^^ 

Before  a  solitary  blulf  of  Eastern  Asia  stands  an  explorer.     Loose  stones  cover  both  the  part«  which  seem 
hill  before  him  and  the  vast  waste  around  him ;  his  thoughts,  however,  are  not  engaged  with  '"*  ®^*"* 
the  region,  tho  it  be  of  interest  to  him  on  account  of  the  life  once  animating  it.    As  yet  his 
attention  follows  another  direction.    But  suddenly  it  is  drawn  to  a  bunch  of  ordinary  weeds 
surrounding  a  few  solitary  stones,  and  then  to  some  others  on  a  pile.    Creepers  run  over 
them, giving  the  scene  a  mitigating,  an  inviting  aspect. 

To  the  astonishment  of  his  servants  and  of  the  guard,  sent  along  by  the  pasha,  camp  is  to 
be  formed  upon  this  insignificant  spot;  the  tents  are  pitched.    Strange  as  it  seems  to  the  at- 
tendants, the  keen  scientist  has  his  reason  for  it.    Among  the  rubbish  of  the  desert  a  stone  is  illustrated  by  the  pro- 
found with  a  few  peculiar  scratches,  which  he  knows  to  be  an  ancient  inscription.    Some  cedure  of  excavating  in 

„  ,,,.,—,  r.         ,  «  ,  -         .,,         historic  discovery. 

other  pieces  show  traces  of  a  sculptor's  chisel.    They  seem  to  fit ;  they  form  the  cap  of  a  pillar 

—since  some  imagination  guides  the  attempt  to  reconstruct  it  from  the  fragments.  Finally  a 
slab  is  found  which,  cleaned  from  moss,  exhibits  the  outlines  of  a  figure  in  relief,  which  is 
nobly  conceived  and  artistically  executed.  Diggings  are  commanded,  the  hole  deepens  into 
an  excavation ;  curiosity  is  stimulated  by  large  hewn  stones,  by  a  row  of  them,  by  a  well  pre- 
served plastic  figure,  by  an  ornamental  base  of  a  pillar,  by  a  doorsill.  A  flight  of  regular  Antiquities  best  pre- 
staircases  is  unearthed.  Not  the  smallest  fragment  is  thrown  aside  unexamined.  Figures  are  served  by  their  long 
found  repeatedly,  resembling  each  other;  they  mean  something,  of  course,  they  are  symbolic; 
inscriptions  multiply,  are  photographed  and  sent  home.  The  papers  of  the  civilised  world 
describe  them  in  detail.  Philologists  work  with  closest  attention,  compare,  wait  for  more 
material  in  order  to  correctly  decipher  and  interpret  the  great  discovery.  The  historians 
revise  old  traditions,  and  bring  the  results  into  connection  with  other  traces  of  similar  kind* 
At  last  it  becomes  evident  that  those  stones  speak  of  facts  by  which  erroneous  theories  are  cor- 
rected, and  knowledge  long  discredited  is  now  confirmed. 

Thus  we  become  acquainted  with  the  thoughts,  works  and  troubles  of  peoples  of  four  utility  of  historic 
and  five  thousand  years  ago.  This  is  the  result  of  the  journey,  the  toil,  and  the  risk.  The  discoveries. 
work  is  carried  on  under  such  encouragement  at  a  dozen  different  localities  with  results  cor- 
roborating and  amending  each  other.  The  chaos  becomes  intelligible;  former  perplexities 
disappear ;  many  a  controversy  is  settled.  Every  fragment  becomes  important,  so  that  a 
single  sign  even  may  serve  as  a  key  ^or  disclosing  both  causes  and  circumstances  of  the  catas- 
trophe which  once  befell  that  locality,  revealing  the  form  and  the  purpose  of  the  whole. 

The  searcher  now  finds  various  traces  of  the  activity  of  the  human  mind,  but  he  soon 
learns  to  distinguish  the  characteristics  of  two  principal  orders  of  antiquities.  Among  the 
meaningless  rubbish,  strewn  over  the  wilderness  by  a  people  almost  void  of  any  culture,  he 
finds  remnants  of  a  nobler  sort.  To  him  they  testify  of  the  thoughtful  master's  works,  whilst 
the  rubbish  silently  speaks  of  the  destroyer.  Ornamental  parts  once  joined  with  mathemati- 
cal exactness,  divulge  their  interesting  story  when  reduced  again  to  their  well  definable 
original  relations.  In  most  cases  such  remnants  are  found  best  preserved  by  their  long  rest 
and  deep  grave,  as  they  are  covered  by  the  layers  of,  and  intermingled  with,  the  crude  mater- 
ial of  their  native  home. 

Nevertheless  the  friei-ds  on  the  other  hand  ask:  Of  what  practical  purpose  is  all  this?  We 
can  only  say,  that  such  discoveries  help  us  to  understand  our  own  world,  and  our  own  soul, 
and  to  understand  the  more  thoroughly  and  correctly  the  drift  of  our  own  time  and  of  its 
undercurrent. 

Another  conclusion  can  not  be  drawn  by  an  observer  of  the  remnants  and  their  messages ; 
messages  which  come  over  to  us  from  dispersed  and  extinct  nations,  with  whom  we  are  con- 
nected by  a  direct  chain  of  only  a  hundred  odd  links. 

The  question  presented  by  our  problem  is,  whether  the  ethnologist  will  be  able  in  principles  of  dissemi 
a  similar  manner  to  demonstrate  the  kinship  of  people  constituting  a  nation,  the  Jrimitwe^SitaJe. 
oneness  of  the  uncultured  debris  with,  and  its  difference  from,  the  cultured  part. 
For,  the  ofEal  of  the  material,  the  ethnical  nondescript  from  which  the  purposive 
principle  in  history  selected  the  constructive  or  formative  elements  of  society,  may 
well  be  considered  as  belonging  to  the  same  race,  especially  if  it  has  been  ascertained  ^.^^^.  ^^^^^^^ 
that  the  essential  homogeneity  is  upheld  by  a  general  similitude  of  monumental  ''^Jl^'Jf^  ^jjce^*^'*^**^ 
style,  written  characters,  and  sculptured  symbolism,  notwithstanding  their  many 
variations  and  modifications  in  particular  cases.    Whenever  the  indications  favoring 
identity  increase,  we  are  justified  in  acknowledging  it  as  more  than  probable  that 
lingual  and  religious  kinship  existed  between  the  cultured  and  the  retarded  parts  of 
a  national  unity. 

Such  indications  of  ethnical  identity  may  be  found  scattered  here  and  there  indications  of  oneness 
among  the  forms  of  more  or  less  contemporaneous  culture.  Even  in  such  cases, tho  in  language  and  religion, 
other  signs  of  historical  connection  were  missing,  their  semblances  may  legitimately 
be  taken  for  family  features.  True,  certain  samples  of  culture  may  appear  similar 
and  yet  belong  to  another  race,  because  the  mental  faculties  common  to  all  men  may 
produce  similar  expressions  of  the  mind  at  different  times  and  in  different  peoples; 
but  such  cases  are  too  rare  to  confute  our  general  orinciple  of  classification.    More, 


120 

Unity  of  the 
entire  human 
race. 


Importance  ot  the 
uncultured  races 
retarded  in  their 
development. 


The  import  of  the  un- 
cultured portions  of  the 
race. 


Sexual  polarity  affords 
another  criterion  for 
classifying  nations. 


Cryptogama  organisms 
and  their  analogous 
phenomena  in  respect 
to  national  life. 


The  fundamental  part 
which  uncultured  people 
take    in  the  upbuilding 
of  history. 


People  unqualified  for 
active  participation  in 
historic  progress. 


utilised  by  the 


POLARITIES  AGITATING  PREHISTOBIC  RACES.  II.  A.   Ch.  IX.  §  50. 

however,  than  proof  of  national  consanguinity  is  implied  in  our  premises.  Peculiar 
phenomena  present  themselves,  for  explanation  of  which  the  investigator  must 
have  cause  to  suppose  a  definite  culture  in  that  locality  and  at  the  time.tho  that  pre- 
sumed culture  may  point  to  no  more  than  original  unity  of  language.  Previous  as- 
sertions concerning  the  oneness  of  the  human  race  are  thus  brought  to  view  again 
under  a  new  light,  so  that  we  now  become  interested  in  the  matter  from  a  new 
aspect. 

We  are  compelled  in  the  first  place,  to  divide  each  ethnical  and  identical  mass 
into  cultured  and  retarded  people,  so  that  the  latter  may  receive  due  attention.  The 
importance  of  the  uncultured  parts  once  being  acknowledged,  will  render  the  diver- 
sity more  distinct  and  aid  us  in  conceiving  the  unity  the  more  clearly. 

In  short,  we  desire  to  establish  the  truth,  that  the  promiscuous  loose  debris  of  the 
lowest  stratum  is  as  worthy  of  our  consideration  as  the  parts  hewn  out  thereof.  For 
history  teaches  that  unhistoric  people  are  of  no  less  consequence,  than  the  historical 
nations.  In  the  premises  we  acknowledged  them  all  as  the  manifold  parts  of  one 
generic  whole,  in  which  they  severally  are  to  be  assigned  to  their  different  places. 
From  their  relation  to  their  corrollaries  their  condition  is  to  be  made  intelligible,  in- 
asmuch as  the  whole  derives  its  significance  from  the  analysis  of  the  various  constit- 
uents just  as  much  as  the  particulars  are  only  explicable  from  the  whole.  Which- 
ever course  is  taken  the  problem  demands  discrimination  between  people  of  culture 
and  such  as  stayed  behind. 

Still  another  criterion  is  to  be  sought  for,  when  we  come  to  distinguish  nations 
and  classify  races  evidently  belonging  together  tho  they  may  seem  alien  to  each 
other.  This  new  principle  of  classification  lies  in  the  great  polarity  pervading  the 
entire  visible  universe  determining  the  motion  and  propagation  of  life:  we  mean  the 
sexual  contrast.  There  are  spheres  in  the  domain  of  our  investigation,  where  the 
sexual  opposites  are  irrecogni sable,  and  where,  for  this  reason,  perhaps,  this  princi- 
ple was  overlooked  by  former  investigators. 

In  the  large  genera  of  sponges  and  mushrooms,  of  ferns  and  seaweeds,  of  mosses 
and  heathers,  bisexual  difference  is  hidden.  There  is  a  world  of  cryptogamic  life  re- 
maining, not  to  speak  of  that  which  submerged  in  prehistoric  aeons.  May  we  not 
say,  by  way  of  analogy,  that  there  are  cryptogama  among  national  organisms  also? 
They  present  masses  often  entirely  unaffected  by  the  progressiveness  of  cultural  ad- 
vance. But  since  we  do  not  inquire  into  natural  but  personal  life,  we  remember 
that  nations  are  molded  by  circumstances  under  which  they  may  step  forth  into  con- 
ceivable historic  activity,  as  well  as  relapse  into  comparative  inertia. 

We  restricted  the  analogy  of  a  neutral  state  of  sexual  polarity  and  cryptogamic 
life  in  nature  to  the  indistinctness  of  the  activity  in  ethnical  life  where  it  appears  as 
being  more  or  less  conceivable  or  eclipsed;  for  we  remember  that  life  nowhere  is  en- 
tirely inactive.  As  the  wide  orbits  of  nature  ultimately  help  to  mold  the  history  of 
the  earth  and  its  inhabitants,  so  does  every  horde  and  tribe  of  seemingly  forsaken 
portions  of  humanity,  its  arrested  development  notwithstanding,  take  its  part  in  the 
complicated  workings  of  history.  That  part  may  be  compared  to  the  drudgery  in  the 
work  of  constructing  a  foundation  where  the  unskilled  journeymen  carry  stones  and 
mortar,  or  fill  up  uneven  places,  whilst  the  master-builders  and  masons  hew  the 
stones  and  join  them  in  their  proper  order. 

The  real  work  of  history  is  always  in  the  hands  of  comparatively  very  few;  it  is 
given  into  care  of  those  nations  in  which  the  forms  of  life  have  become  differenti- 
ated and  the  polar  contrasts  developed« 

A  tree  in  bloom  may  show  the  meaning:  of  this  assertion.  Of  the  blossoms  the  smallest 
part  only  will  yield  fruit ;  in  most  of  them  the  sexual  difference  remains  indifferent,  so  that 
they  fade  and  drop  without  having  fulfilled  their  purpose.  The  many  simply  remain  in  the 
condition  of  formal  appendance  whilst  few  attain  to  the  realisation  of  their  inner  potentiali- 
ties. This  analogy  sufficiently  delineates  our  conception  of  the  significance  of  uncultured 
people. 

Among  the  nations  we  find  a  limited  number,  and  in  each  of  the  latter  again  a 
very  few  persons  only,  with  whom  the  great  and  determining  contrasts  of  life  are  ap- 
preciated and  become  effective.  There  are  very  few  nations  among  whom  the  con- 
trasts of  natural  and  personal  life  become  harmonized  and  equalized  under  the  con- 
flicts which  must  benefit  the  whole. 


n.  A.  Ch.  IX.  §  51.  IMPORT  OF  UNCULTURED  MASSES.  121 

In  few  people  that  clear  consciousness  becomes  explicitly  mature,  which  reflects  a  true   .  ,        ,   *     ^, 

«.ii-i  .,.-  .A  '*^  select  nations 

view  of  life  and  of  the  world.    The  great  mass  of  people  live  and  try  to  enjoy  hfe  unconscious  have  among  them  com- 

of  the  fact,  that  they  labor  in  the  interest  of  the  whole,  and  that  they,  in  addition  must  share  LYect  wii'kers^co^^cioM 

the  tribulations  of  the  whole  along  with  the  blessings.    Altho  they  show  little  concern  in  all  of  their  obligations  to 

that,  yet  they  fulfill  some  purpose,  even  tho  their  existence  seems  to  serve  merely  as  a  fertili-      «  ^  °  «• 

sing  element.    They  are  utilised  by  the  few  who  rise  above  the  common  level  of  that  feigned 

activity  and  oflaciousness  which  after  all  may  be  but  inertia,  because  the  many  will  try  to 

avoid  anything  which  disturbs  their  laissez-fair  consuetude  of  life. 

Still  less  grows  the  number  of  those  who,  with  reasonable  self  reliance,  face  the  Measure  of  fuii  vaiu«  o< 
conflict  for  the  sake  of  the  common  good,  and  spurn  the  very  notoriety  for  which 
they  are  envied;  who  do  not  engage  in  a  laudable  risk  for  reasons  of  vain  glory.    It 
will  be  almost  impossible  to  pick  out  one  tenth  of  the  few  thousand  renowned  names 
in  all  history  like  that  nameless  Spartan  who  was  glad  that  his  country  possessed 
three  hundred  men  better  than  himself.    Comparatively  few  would  pass  as  types  of 
their  times  and  generations,  in  whom  the  true  character  of  a  nation  and  the  real  Petri's 
progress  of  an  age  are  concentrated;  whose  life  work  might  be  deemed  representa-  Mong'Üuanrand**'***^ 
tive  of  the  task  which  their  respective  nations  had  to  work  out  for  the  benefit  of  hu-  ^'^'^''p*"^«- 
manity ;  whose  names  deserve  to  be  enlisted  as  emblems  of  general  advancement;  the 
teachings  of  whose  exemplary  lives  goes  further  than  the  influence  of  books. 

With  reference  to  the  particular  destiny  and  value  of  peoples  in  their  periods,  Petri's 
classification  of  humanity  into  Negroes,  Mongolians  and  Europeans  would  seem  the  most 
natural  among  the  many  unsatisfactory  race-divisions.  Around  these  ''central  masses"  the 
peripherieal  would  group  themselves  well  enough.  But  this  method  of  classifying  would  not 
relieve  us  of  the  difficulty  to  appreciate  the  historic  purport  and  value  of  specific  nations,  -j^^^  classification  as 
when  the  positive^and  characteristic  significance  of  each  group  is  to  be  determined.  To  define,  unsatisfactory  as  others, 
which  are  to  be  taken  as  belonging  to  a  sinking  nation  of  culture,  or  only  to  a  retarded  grade 
of  culture,  would  remain  just  as  vexatious  a  job  as  under  any  other  abandoned  method. 

§  51.    In  judging  the  cultural  condition  of  a  nation,  either  succumbed  or  merely 
arrested,  discretion  is  essential.    For,  of  a  nation  fallen  away  from  a  high  state  of  perished  cuituru 
culture  we  generally  can  expect  no  more  usefulness  for  history;  whilst  of  those  ''*"°''^- 
nations  which  only  go  to  sleep,  a  future   period  of  bloom  and  fruit  bearing  may 
yet  be  predicted.     It  will  be  difficult  to  deny  any  conglomerate  group  of  tribes  J'^°pjj*g°/Jt*^if|'* 
the  capability  for  entering  a  progressive  career,  however  fast  asleep  it  may  be.    Com- 
pare for  instance  the  nations  along  the  Danube  with  the  Arabs  and  Moors  of  Morocco. 

On  the  whole  it  must  be  conceded  that  certain  portions  of  mankind  resemble  the 
debris  lying  about  a  new  edifice.  There  is  the  offal  of  mortar,  there  lie  the  frag-  fnSL^g*^'''  ^*'" 
ments  of  sculpturing,  and  there  are  the  tracings  of  scaffolding,  once  indispensable 
then  useless  and  torn  down  long  ago.  Yet  all  this  building  rubbish  of  history  lying 
around  on  the  ground,  figuratively  speaking— as  for  instance  the  Jews,  is  rendered 
highly  instructive  as  soon  as  our  supposition  of  the  oneness  of  original  culture  is 
brought  to  bear  on  our  problem.  Then  the  effort  to  exhibit  the  significance  of  the 
fragments,  even  of  the  human  "alluvial  humus"  becomes  justified.  True  to  our 
maxim,  according  to  which  we  assign  each  loose  part  to  the  proper  place  which  it 
formerly  held,  and  its  relation  to  the  whole,  we  will  discover  that  the  rubbish  even 

Vx^«,^^  i-^^-^-^^^-i-  Illustrated   by  the  cott 

bears  interest.  nection  of  the  cordii- 

Let  it  be  illustrated  :  what  is  meant  by  the  lost  position  and  the  relation  of  a  discomfited  leras  with  the  Coral 
nation  to  the  whole  of  human  history  ?  islands. 

The  coral  islands  of  the  Pacific  in  their  situation  parallel  with  the  chain  of  the  Cordil- 
leras point  the  geologist  to  the  supposition,  that  the  latter  were  once  united  with  the  islands, 
and  still  have  a  deep  connection  with  their  base.  The  westward  extension  of  South  America 
must  have  been  lying  between  them.  The  largest  part  of  that  continent  sank  and  was  sub- 
merged so  that  only  the  peaks  of  a  parallel  mountain  range  now  reach  up  nearly  to  the  level 
of  the  sea  and  afford  the  coral  builders  their  foundation. 

In  a  similar  way  we  suppose  submersions  of  peoples  who  sank  in  order  to  serve  as  a  sub- 
stratum for  historic  people  to  rise  upon.  They  went  down,  but  their  existence  furnished  the 
basis  upon  which  conquerors  reared  organised  states.  Even  in  historic  times  oppressed  and 
disappearing  people,  inclusive  of  such  as  are  now  far  behind  in  culture  if  not  destitute  of  it, 
are  still  bearers  of  original  and  elementary  forces. 

Such  peoples  arrested  in  their  historic  development  serve  to  keep  declining  na-  Analytic  proofs  forth« 
tions  under  the  polar  strain  by  which  they  are  either  to  be  stimulated,  rejuvenated  LXns  wia  ri&d 
and  aroused  to  emulation,  or  else  to  be  pushed  aside  in  order  to  clear  the  way  for  new  ''"""'^^ 
departures  in  the  line  of  advance.    Others  resemble  depositories  in  which  those  anti- 
quities were  stored  up  through  which  we  are  now  enabled  to  study  the  ancients. 
Their  relics  fill  the  museums  in  which  succeeding  nations  to  their  astonishment,  find 
preserved  the  monuments  and  documents  of  their  history,  of  their  own  preexistence. 


They  are  repositories  of 
the  relics  of  old 
cultures. 


to  animated  petrifac' 
tions. 


Their  import  upon  the 
study  of  languages, 
Gothic,  Gaelic,  Anglo- 
Saxon,  Chinese. 


De  Lacouperie 

Javanese 

H.  V,  Humboldt. 


Ethnical  Chaos  to  he 
now  analysed,  forms  the 
first  of  our  concentric 
circles. 


Resume:  No  "dead 
material"  in  the  one- 
ness of  humanity. 


122  HISTORIC  SUBSTRUCTURE.  U.  A.  Ch.  IX.  §  51. 

Upon  the  island  of  Madeira,  Oscar  Heer  found  plants  of  most  antiquated  formations,  far 
in  arrear  of  the  flora  of  the  main-lands  in  the  vicinity.  They  have  been  called  "animated  pet- 
Uncultured  people  of  refactions."  We  have  such  among  mankind.  The  aborigines  of  the  South  Seas  and  of  Aus- 
present  times  compared  tralia  decaying  as  soon  as  brought  into  contact  with  European  culture  may,  with  all  pro- 
priety, be  compared  to  such  relics  of  primeval  ages,  for  they  retain  forms  of  retarded  or  ar^ 
rested  life  which,  after  severance  from  continental  progress,  partook  more  and  more  of  the 
character  of  mere  vegetation. 

Concerning  the  preservation  of  philological  remnants  the  uncultured  people  are» 
at  any  rate,  more  important  than  what  they  are  ethnologically. 

The  old  language  of  Gothic  Scandinavia  has  been  preserved  in  Iceland.  In  some  parts  of 
England  we  hear,  how  the  Gaelic  language  of  prehistoric  Britany  was  pronounced;  in  the  dia- 
lects of  the  peasantry  in  some  secluded  districts  of  Thuringia  or  Siebenburgen  we  hear  how 
the  old  Anglo-Saxon  sounded.  W.  v.  Humboldt  could  learn  the  old  Kawi  language  of  Java 
only  upon  the  island  of  Madura,  which  long  ago  had  become  severed  from  its  main-land. 
De  Lacouperie  tells  us,  that  the  prehistoric  language  of  China  is  recognised  solely  upon 
the  island  of  Formosa.  The  "Sibir"  only  ten  years  ago  reported,  that  there  exists  a  remnant 
of  the  aborigines,  called  the  Earagassians,  of  whom  could  be  learned  how  they  once  spoke  in 
the  regions  of  the  Irkutsk. 

Remnants  of  most  ancient  cultures  we  thus  see  protruding  from  the  dimness  of 
the  past  like  apparitions  from  mythical  realms. 

Our  conclusion,  that  any  uncultured  mass  of  people,  scattered  over  the  whole 
surface  of  the  earth  as  by  an  explosion  is  correlevant  as  yet  to  the  whole  of  human- 
ity, seems  to  be  sufficiently  proven  by  empirical  facts. 

The  chaos,  now  to  be  analysed  in  accord  with  the  rules  laid  down,  forms  the  first 
of  those  circles,  wherein  the  selfculture  of  natural  man  advances  in  narrowing  con- 
centration. The  widely  extending  connection  of  nationalities  and  race  of  prehis- 
toric age  in  this  first  circle  represents  the  quarry  from  which  history  hauls  its  ma- 
terial, or  forms,  if  you  please,  the  solid  foundation  upon  which  history  rears  its  edi- 
fice. This  chaotic  circle  of  nations  is  to  the  world  of  the  henceforth  differentiat- 
ing personal  life  equally  important  as  the  geological  crust  of  our  planet  is  to  the 
physical  world.  Its  importance,  either  as  a  whole  or  in  its  seeming  insignificant 
parts,  remains  the  same,  whether  the  nations  form  massive  strata,  or  whether  they 
appear  as  scattered  fragments;  or  whether  they  are  to  be  compared  to  small  nuclei  of 
future  nations  found  imbedded  here  and  there,  nestwise,  like  crystals  in  granite. 

When  we  arrive  at  our  third  part  we  will  better  understand  the  necessity  of  the  princi- 
ples laid  down  in  this  ninth  chapter.    At  present  we  desist  from  further  details. 

In  the  ethnical  rubble  now  before  us  elementary  forces  and  rudimentary  forms 
predominate.  As  the  rocks  represent  the  inorganic  part  of  nature  supporting  a  count- 
less variety  of  organic  life, so  this  bulk  of  prehistoric  humanity  in  its  state  of  con- 
fined life,  now  compressed  in  strata,  now  shifting  over  such  strata  in  drifts,  now 
SJS**  ^^^''^'  '^''*"'*^'  breaking  into  fractions  and  scattering,  forms  at  this  stage  of  our  inquiry,  the  found- 
^.^ht!ätobe,"is      ation-wall  for  the  theater  of  history.    It  resembles  at  the  same  time,  the  lowest  but 
Ä'i^um^ev^eTy-  "^  °"  fuudameutal  note  in  the  music  of  the  opera.    As  in  visible  nature,  so  we  find  at  the 
^^^'^'  §  4, 40, 202, 232.  ^^^^  ^^  ^^^^  promlscuous  rude  material  of  the  historical  world,  that  which,  according  to 
Schelling  "ought  not  to  be." 

As  we  found  that  in  the  inorganic  world,  as  reduced  to  its  fundamental  princi- 
ples, there  is  no  "dead  matter,"  so  is  this  substratum  of  history  all  alive— unless  a 
selfsufficient  party  of  us  late-comers  would  or  could  sever  all  connection  with  the 
past,  detach  themselves  from  the  current  of  history,  and  disdainfully  look  upon 
ancestry  and  upon  the  past  as  being  nonsensical  and  of  no  purpose  whatever. 

We  have  thus  far  made  a  survey  of  all  the  raw  material  of  history  from  that 
point  of  view  which  presented  to  us  the  oneness  of  humanity,  ethnologically  and 
philologically.  As  a  whole,  however,  the  bulk  is  not  as  yet  articulated,  nor  did  we 
succeed  with  its  classification.  Fpr  the  theoretical  division  into  cultured  and  uncul- 
tured people  is  insufficient  after  all. 

Think  of  the  shades  of  such  differences  as  present  themselves  in  our  own  nation,  in  any 
single  city.  The  essence  of  human  nature  does  not  warrant  such  rubrics.  A  division  on  the 
line  of  relative  superiority  of  culture  amounts  to  no  more  than  a  generalisation  which  would 
have  to  be  altered  whenever    the  unstableness  of  historical  movements  changes  the  conditions. 

External  circumstances  and  the  commotions  going  on  at  all  points  of  the  world  and  in  all 
relations  of  social  life,  continuing  through  every  stage  of  individual  development  in  ever> 


And  we  can  not  detach 
ourselves  from  it. 


Sur/ey  obtained  only 
the  oneness  of  the  race. 


Classification  into 
cultured  and  uncultured 
people  of  no  avail. 


n  A   CH.  X.  §  52.     HISTORY,  THE  ORGANIC  SYSTEM  OF  CAUSES  AND  EFFECTS.  128 

period  of  history,  ever  causes  the  dividing  line  between  the  two  sets  of  cultured  and  uncul- 
tured people  to  shift  in  such  a  manner,  as  to  render  classification  of  mankind  under  the  „, 

,,  .  ,1..^^.  ^         11  Since  the  constnictive 

two  topics  of  pre-eminence  and  destitution  untenable.  principle  of  history  Uei 

A  division  on  the  score  of  culture  would  be  of  no  avail  in  the  search  for  the  con-  '"  ""*"  ind'^iduaiiy 
structive  principles  of  history,  lying  in  each  man  individually.  However  conspicu- 
ous a  few  noble  persons  stand  out,  and,  maintaining  their  position,  may  command 
the  admiration  of  their  fellowmen  ;  yet  in  each  group  of  people,  if  classified  merely 
according  to  their  degree  of  culture,  the  ebbings  and  flowings  of  the  tide  of  develop-  not  in  external,  thming 
ment  —which  tends  either  to  elevation  or  degradation,  and  to  brutality  as  much,  if 
not  stronger  as  to  civilisation— will  be  found  as  equally  effective  and  equally  hazard- 
ous in  every  mortal. 

We  have  so  far  (and  not  we  alone,  but  the  philosophy  of  civilisation  has  hitherto ) 
represented  the  nations,  and  judged  their  standing,  under  aspects  of  specific  periods 
with  distinctly  marked  changes,  and  definite  grades  of  general  progress.    No  wonder,  not  in  grades,  changes 
that  the  concepts  of  humanity,  as  drawn  from  such  cursory  views  of  history,  were  general* prSress  "'*'^  °' 
subjective,  capricious  and  contradictory— hence  of  little  scientific  value,  subject  to 
fruitless  disputes,  and  apt  to  work  mischief  under  false  and  misapplied  deductions. 

It  is  time  then,  to  search  for  those  principles  of  dififerentation,  and  to  arrange  the  a  classification  of 
topics  of  historic  movements  in  accord  with  that  original  predisposition  of  human  nature,  ofTJ'hüre  may^turTout 
which  alone  enable  men  to  build  up  that  organic  system  of  causes  and  effects,  which  we  call  "^^^^^^  "i«chievousiy. 
history. 

CH.X.    THE  TENSION  OF  POLARITY  DIFFERENTIATING  THE 
FIRST  CIRCLE  OF  NATIONS. 

§  52.    Once  more  we  must  present  to  our  minds  that  ethnical  nondescript  which  p^rS^chemTcar' 
covered  the  earth  as  from  an  overflowing  reservoir.    Let  us  imagine  this  fluent  mass  <=°'"p«'^<i- 
as  analogous  to  a  chemical  compound  solution,  resembling  in  history  what  mother- 
lye,  I  think  it  is  termed,  is  to  chemistry. 

In  precisely  the  same  manner  as  electrosis  resolves  such  a  composition  to  its  Eiectrosis  of  a  chemical 
original  ingredients  as  soon  as  the  wires  charge  the  fluid  with  the  mysterious  force,  pX^S"'"*  '""^t^**"^» 
the  acids  isolating  themselves  at  the  positive,  the  bases  at  the  negative  pole ;  so  the 
ethnical  mixture  before  us  undergoes  an  analogous  process,  except  that  the  isolating 
power  is  of  a  different  nature. 

In  other  words  :  Only  the  terminal  points  of  a  magnetized  bar  demonstrate  the  pdarity  m  the  ma«netio 
principles  of  adhesion  and  repulsion  most  decisively  ;  the  nearer  to  the  middle,  the  ^"^ 
weaker  is  the  "force."  At  the  center  all  tension  ceases.  Where  the  polar  difference 
poises  all  opposition  is  rendered  neutral,  the  integral  forces  balance  and  rest  in  the 
central  energy  where  they  seem  to  have  turned  into  inertia.  These  very  phenomena 
are  reiterated  in  the  way  of  physical  analogies  in  the  history  of  the  individual,  of  a 
nation,  of  all  mankind. 

The  great  polarity  which  determines  the  course  of  history  rests  in  man  himself  Natural  and  spiritual 
as  a  latent  potentiality.  We  shall  try  to  show  the  effectiveness  and  functions  of  this  ^'''^'^  "*°*  ^ '"'" 
coherent  and  corresponding  contrariety  under  the  pendulum  of  consciousness.  But 
ere  we  are  warranted  to  succeed  in  the  attempt  we  must  fetch  up  one  thing  omitted 
when  we  indexed  man's  estate.  We  were  convinced  that  the  natural  world  and  the 
spiritual  are  blended  in  man.  But  at  the  same  time  and  by  reason  of  this  union  the 
spheres  of  activity  and  passiveness  also  interlap  in  his  constitution. 

The  natural  world  is  consigned  to  the  bans  of  circumferential  and  circumstan-  Nature-subordinate, 
tial  generalness  ;  its  formal  variety  notwithstanding  it,  forms  a  material  unity  and  *°**  ^^"''*' 
moves  under  the  sway  of  necessity.    It  consists  of  that  which  is  to  remain  under  de- 
determining  influences,  which  is  designed  to  be  acted  upon,  which  must  sustain  the 
supremacy  of  the  other  realm  ;  which  is  doomed  to  passiveness. 

The  spiritual  world  of  personality,  on  the  other  hand,  is  that  which  influences^  spirit  supremacy,  actw, 
animates  and  determines,  is  the  sphere  in  which  activity  in  freedom  is  the  order  of  '"^'^  '''^'*'°^  influence» 
existence.    This  is  true,  and,  we  trust,  has  been  made  clear. 

But  as  yet  the  problem,  as  to  how  both  of  these  worlds  claim  a  part  of  man's  D^^th  rendered  possible 
being,  whereby  its  disintegration  is  rendered  possible,  has  been  scarcely  touched  upon. 

WTienever  man  takes  an  introspect  into  his  life,  he  finds  himself  subject  to  both 
the  constituent  factors  under  discussion.    He  is  to  decide  for  himself,  choice  being  der  ^ran-s'^ombÄLV  ' 
termined  as  much  or  as  little,  and  being  forced  into  his  course  of  action    no  further,  '"^**^''  '"^^  ™'°** 
than  he  is  determining  himself. 

11 


nature  trifles  with  man. 


Man  a  patient. 


124  POLAR  STRAIN  BETWEEN  THE  NATURAL  AND  SPIRITUAL.      II.  A.  Ch.  X.  §  52. 

"With  a  will  he  endeavors  to  accomplish  the  obligations  of  his  vocation ;  with  energy  he 
ventures  upon  difficulties  to  be  surmounted.  Filled  with  zeal  he  will  persist  to  conquer  op- 
Man  as  a  free  agent.  position  and  will  not  yield  to  oppression ;  conscious  of  his  courage  and  selfhood  he  will  assert 
the  right  and  prerogatives  of  human  life  and  personal  choice.  The  internal  tensions  of  his 
nerves  and  muscles  fit  him  to  surmount  external  obstacles,  whilst  exercise  and  engagement 
requite  the  gladsome  consciousness  of  strength.    This  all  continues  until— reaction  sets  in. 

Man  representing  the  union  of  matter  and  mind,  is  thereby  caused  to  move  in 
Tension  between  nature  f feedom  uudei  uecessitj  after  a  method  of  ethical  ends,  designed  for  the  very  pur- 
and  spirit.  pose  jof  realislug  the  unification  enjoined  upon  him  by  his  own  constitution.    Per- 

sonal life,  asserting  its  energy  and  liberty  at  one  moment,  becomes  exhausted  and 
recedes  behind  the  natural  form  of  life  at  the  next.    Passiveness  and  suffering  from 
prostration  take  the  place  of  buoyant  agility.    There  man  steps  forth  as  a  free  agent, 
strain  between  freedom  ^^^^  ^^  retlrcs  a  patleut.    Now  he  fcels  himself  a  being  which  can  play  with  nature 
and  necessity.  j^  sereuo  carelessuess,  and  then  again  he  finds  himself  in  a  despondent  mood,  sub- 

ject to  his  own  frailness,  an  object  for  nature  to  trifle  with  as  when  the  waves  of  tlie 
Man  plays  with  nature,  oceau  play  football  wlth  hls  ship.    As  the  transient  waves  submerge  into  the  whole, 
so  despondency  drags  down  personal  life,  hiding  itself  behind  the  drapery  of  worldly 
sorrow,  of  unfavorable  or  unavoidable  circumstances. 

The  transition  from  one  mode  of  consciousness  to  the  other  generally  signifies  al- 
most as  much  as  a  change  in  the  mode  of  thought  along  the  whole  front.    Manifest- 
ing itself  mostly  in  the  method  of  persuading  the  will, his  change  seems  to  take  place 
ScTrdtnttothepre'pon^  ^^  accord  wlth  a  uecesslty  equal  to  that  which  causes  the  exchange  of  forces  between 
pfrt  ortoe^s^lfiritiai*'    uatural  poles.    On  closer  examination,  however,  this  duality  of  an  active  and  passive 
«'<^*»-  phase  of  consciousness,  either  voluntarily  or  naturally  determined,  simply  shows 

that  man  is  a  combination  of  nature  and  spirit.    Hence  the  forms  of  thought  and  of 
imagination  will  assume  their  bend  in  proportion  to  the  preponderance  of  either  the  natural 
As  man.  world  in  minia-  part  or  the  Spiritual  side.  The  same  dualism,  becoming  distinctly  manifest  in  the  minia- 
whoi/uidw^A*^  *    ture  world  of  man  individually,  also  conditions  the  advance  or  relapse  of  humanity  as 
**""""'■  a  whole.    In  the  totality  of  human  affairs  the  two  great  antitheses  become  apparent 

SSg^influencef.""**  uuder  the  same  rule  of  predominance  of  either  spiritual  or  natural  temper.    The 
difference  may  be  fittingly  compared  to  the  more  feminine  or  masculine  features  of 
each  of  the  two  sets  of  temperaments.    Concerning  our  problem  of  cultural  develop- 
ment, the  one  part  of  our  race  will  be  found  more  active  and  influential,  the  other 
feXires"of*tLmpe°a -"''"  more  passlve  and  receptive.    Thus  the  great  universal  contrast  is  outlined.    We  are 
comfronted  by  the  great  polar  tension  which  stimulates  and  molds  the  variety  of  sub- 
ordinate differences.    And  this  mutual  strain,  balancing  the  whole,  prevades  all  cir- 
cles and  all  radii  of  progressive  culture,  and   in  a  succession  of  concentric  cy- 
cles and  regulates  the  problems,  and  directs  the  final  issues  of  developing  humanity. 
Upon  the  first  and  widest  of  these  circles  coming  forth  from  the  misty  dawn  of 
prehistoric  ages,  and  hence  showing  very  few  and  very  indistinct  features  of  different- 
iation, we  shall  now  meditate. 
Turano-Mongoiian  It  Is  the  Turauo-Mougolian  circle,  the  lowest  and  broadest  stratum  of  the  human 

circle. 

race. 

But  in  order  to  look  over  its  wide  compass  we  will  first  take  a  firm  position,  and  then 
observe  that  circle      parting  into  two  semi-circles. 

Our  point  of  view  is  the  enormous  partition-wall  of  the  Himalayas,  from  the  snow-capped 

ranges  of  which  more  than  eighty  peaks  rise  up  to  heights  of  twenty  thousand  and  more  feet. 

SaiYandTraJil^ITcf.    This  backbone  of  the  world  forms  an  axis  from  which  mountain  spurs  run  out  to  the  north 

Introduction  to  division  and  brace  up  the  large  Pamir  plateau  which  further  north  is  sheltered  again  by  the  Alaichain. 

*■*  Toward  the  west  this  expansive  plateau  leans  against  that  mountain  stock  which  forms  the 

ethnographical  divide. 

At  the  southern  seam  of  the  Tarim  basin— in  the  western  regions  of  the  Gobi  between 

Ethnographicaiiy  Kashgar  and  Kotan,  if  not  upon  the  large  plateau  of  Pamir  itself— the  native  home  of  the 

^'v''|f*-  Chinese  is  indicated.     There  these  Turanians  dwelt  in  the  vicinity  of  the  Aryans  or  Indo- 

(S  44,  57,)  Germans,  on  the  shores  of  their  "Dragon  Lake"  (Kara-kul).  From  thence  the  Chinese  migrated 

eastward,  whilst  the  Aryans  "went  west."    What,  ethnologically,  they  both  have  in  common  is 

owing  to  that  ancient  neighborhood. 

According  to  Richthof  en  it  was  as  late  as  2300  B.  C.  that  the  Chinese  performed  govern- 
antuiuity  of  Chin^"        mental  functions  over  the  region  of  the  Bulungir.     And  as  late  as  three  thousand  years  after 
governmental  function,  that  time  the  similarity  of  the  inhabitants  of  Khotan  with  the  Chinese  was  deemed  remarkable 
enouffh  to  be  noted  down  in  the  official  annals  of  China. 


n.  A.  Ch.  XI.  §  53.  FIRST  CIRCLE  :  EASTERN  TURANO— MONGOLIANS.  125 

The  large  steppes  of  the  very  expansive  plateau  of  Central-Asia,  lying  more  than  10000 
feet  above  sea  level,  rtally  form  the  natural  Chinese  wall,  by  which  the  Iranians  were  pro- 
tected against  the  Tukanians,  and  by  which  Mongolian  culture  became  separated  from  that  of 
Western  Asia  and  of  Europe. 

From  the  great,  terrace-like  slopes  of  the  plateau  these  first  main  divisions  of  the  nations  i^°8  ^^'^''^Vf  f.**'^'**'*"' 
possessing  the  ambition  requisite  for  higher  culture  glided  down  in  opposite  directions.  Their 
cultures  thus  grew  up  in  antagonism  toward  each  other,  and  in  their  polarity  became  the  found- 
ations of  the  grand  superstructures  which  both,up  to  presentdate»  recline  against  these  eastern 
and  western  declivities.  Despite  this  local  proximity,  however,  the  relations  between  the  Chi- 
nese-Malayan world  and  the  Western-Asiatic  and  European  cultures  became  so  distinct,that  for 
four  thousand  years  they  remained  obscure,  since  the  nations  of  both  these  semi-circles  lost 
sight  of  each  other.  The  few  marks  of  cultural  progress  standing  out  in  full  historic  light 
are  insuflBcient  to  render  discernible  the  ways  and  means  of  communication,  if  the  people 
kept  up  any  at  all.    On  the  whole,  they  seem  to  have  lost  all  knowledge  of  each  other 

Our  full  attention  was  to  be  directed  toward  the  eastern  and  western  poles  of  the  Pamir  the  «isot 

another  polarity. 

ethnographical  axis  with  its  fulcrum  on  the  Pamir.  For  to  this  axis  we  henceforth 
assign  many  demonstrable  effects  of  a  strong  strain,  of  a  polar  tension  which  is  per- 
ceptible throughout  all  historical  movements,  under  which  the  two  chief  ethnical 
factors  of  universal  history  were  always  laboring.  We  also  venture  to  distinguish 
the  occupants  of  the  two  semi-circles  under  the  strain  caused  by  their  masculine  and 
feminine  characteristics,  the  one  with  a  preeminently  active,  and  the  other  under  a 
pronounced  passive,  tendency.  These  three  principles:  the  polarities  between  spirit  Three  kind  o«  poiar 
and  physical  nature,  between  Mongolians  and  Aryans  as  conditioned  by  the  ethno- 
graphical situation,  and  between  the  active  and  passive  forms  of  world-consciousness 
—mete  out  to  universal  history  by  their  action  and  reaction,  its  modes  and  its 
motions.  . 

CH.  XI.    FIRST  CIRCLE  OP  NATIONS.— TURANO-MONGOLIAN  CULTURE.— 
AN  EASTERN  SEMICIRCLE. 
§  53.    Turning  to  the  east  from  the  great  Central- Asiatic  divide,  we  observe,  in 
the  first  place,  how  the  culture  and  history  of  the  eastern  Asiatics  was  built  not  so 
much  upon  geographically  outlined  conditions,  as  upon  the  cultus  and  form  of  con- 
sciousness which  wrought  the  national  character  of  these  Turanians. 

When  Oppert  wrote  his  review  of  Lenormant's  studies  of  cuneiform  inscription,  he  Oppert 
asked:    "What,  after  all,  do  we  know  about  the  primeval  history  of  mankind,  of  the  mental  on  primeval  history. 
development  of  prehistoric  tribes?    Nothing,  absolutely  nothing!"    We,  too.  set  out  with  this 
declaration.    At  each  step  of  our  investigation  we  shall  be  reminded  thereof. 

Concerning  Northern  Asia  we  have  to  suppose  an  underlying  stratum  of  most  ancient  Yenisei-inscriptions 
inhabitants,  who  left  no  remnants  from  which  to  conjecture  their  peculiarities,  except  the  Eemusat. 
Yenisei-inscriptions  which  must  be  taken  into  account  as  such.     Abel  Kemusat  directed  that 
attention  to  these  inscriptions  which  ought  to  have  been  paid  to  them,  seventy   years  ago. 
They  shall  receive  further  mention  in  the  next  chapter,  when  the  western  wing  of  the  Mongo- 
lians comes  under  consideration. 

We  now  attempt  to  reconnoiter  the  right  wing  with  the  culture  of  China  and  Mongolian  migrations  to 
what  pertains  to  it.    Of  course,  we  can  touch  only  upon  the  most  salient  points.  s^^Ind 'Africa.^ 

Our  present  range  of  vision  comprises  the  "Empire  of  the  Middle",  Mongolia,    pp®^** 
Tibet,  the  Amoor  countries  and  Japan.    It  extends  across  the  islands  of  the  Pacific  to 
America.    The  pristine  cultures  of  Mexico  and  Peru  are  products  of  these  Turanians, 
which  were  destroyed  by  other  Mongolians  following  the  first  immigrants  much  later 
and  spreading  themselves  over  North  -  and  Central- America. 

The  Mongolian  migrations  toward  the  south  and  to  Africa  seem  to  correspond 
with  those  to  America. 

Since  Hirth  of  late  has  given  us  the  translation  of  the  Tshu-f en-tshi  which  he  made  in  Traffic  with  Berbera. 
Shanghai,     it  has  become  evident,  that  in  very  early  times  a  lively  traffic  was  carried  on  be-  Hirth. 
tween  China  and  East  Africa,  namely  with  Dshunguli  or  Somali-land,  with  Sofala,  and  with 
old  Berbera  at  the  straits  of  Babelmandeb.    From  Berbera  the  Chinese  hauled  storax,  myrrh, 
and  tortoise  shells.    Their  revenue  records  very  accurately  describe  the  articles  of  commerce.  China  porcelain  in  the 
The  porcelain  vessels  from  China,  found  in  the  pyramids,  also  receive  their  explanation  from  ^^^^ 
Hirth' s  labors. 

The  beginning  of  Chinese  literature  is  dated  six  thousand  years  back  by  Von  der  Gabel-  j^  ^f  Chinese  literatur« 
entz  in  his  lecture  given  in  the  aula,  Leipzig,  1879.  Some  chronologists  no  doubt  declare  this  Gabelentz. 
an  exaggeration,  but  we  can  see  no  sufficient  grounds  to  coincide  with  them.  The  songs  of 
the  Shu-king  were  composed,  according  to  Von  Strauss's  computations,  before  the  year  2160 
B.  C.  On  all  sides  the  fact  is  corroborated,  that  the  culture  of  China  is  the  most  ancient  known. 
This  we  take  for  granted,  for  nothing  equals  the  copiousness  and  variety  of  that  literature. 
Where  else  is  to  be  found  such  a  splendid  edition  of  the  principal  works  of  a  nation,  in  1000. 


126  EXTENT  OF  CHINESE  INFLUENCE.  IL  A.  CH.  XI  §  53. 

Its  wealth.  Volumes,  as  the  one  which  the  British  government  bought  in  the  year  A.  D.  1877?    We  know 

Von  Strauss.  ^^^  j^^,  ^j  ^j^^  literary  productions  of  China  "and  of  them  how  little"  as  Gabelentz  complains. 

Yet  what  little  we  know  of  them  is  suflBcient  to  dispel  the  old  prejudice  that  the  Chinese 
were  to  be  dealt  with  as  a  petrified  oation.     There  is  a  world  of  mental  activity   disclosed 
upon  most  any  subject  and  up  to  date.     An  enormous  number  of  monographs,  besides  the 
Yet  Chinese  culture  re-  hundreds   of  volumes  of  circumstantial  and  monotonous   state-annals,  contain  descriptive 
rested*  Ufe/°'™*  °'  *^  treatises  on  sociology  even,  and  on  modern  civic  economics.    They  divulge  the  movement  and 
growth  of  feudal,   independent,  and  anarchical  conditions  of  the  realm,  through  times  of 
sword-law  and  all  possible  social  formations  of  private  and  public  life,  up  to  the  state-craft  of 
the  united  empire.    An  astonishing  zeal  and  any  amount  of  scholarship  was  spent  upon  the 
construction  of  that  redundant  language.  A  collection  of  belles  lettres  in  1800  volumes  mirrors 
the  life  of  the  nation  in  all  its  detailed  features.    And  yet  there  is,  as  we  shall  see,  nothing 
but  the  cultivation  of  a  confined  life,  an  arrested  culture. 
Poverty  of  the  Chinese  ''The  scientific  capacity  of  the  Chinaman  is  rather  broad,  not  deep,"  says  Richthofen. 

ßTchthofen  Knowledge  does  not  tend  to  new  improvements,  but  spreads  out  upon  methods  of  application 

which  were  in  use  from  times  most  remote.  In  the  fall  season  Chinese  phantasy  still  trans- 
forms the  quails  into  moles  in  order  to  let  them  become  quails  again  in  springtime.  Such 
scientific  ignorance  is  held  almost  sacred  because  of  its  age.  Reverence  for  that  which  is 
ftncient  is  the  most  characteristic  trait  of  this  whole  culture. 

The  Chinese  have  no  science  for  the  purpose  of  arriving  at  the  truth.    They  pos- 
sess dexterity  and  imagine  that  they  know  everything  better,  but  being  disqualified  for 
comprehending  anything  abstract,  they  are  unable  to  formulate  a  theory  or  to  make  an 
Causes  of  the  unfitness  inveutiou.    It  does  uot  occur  to  the  mind  of  Chinamen  to  reason  from  phenomena  to 

for  abstract  reasoning.  '^ 

causes.  And  we  have  reason  to  believe  that  this  peculiarity  is  not  merely  to  be  ac- 
counted for  by  the  seclusion  and  proud  selfsufflciency  of  this  culture.  For  not  even 
the  influence  of  foreign  and  acknowledged  superiority  can  incite  a  Chinese  mind 
toward  profundity.  And  whenever  this  is  missing,  consciousness  will  enlarge  on 
things  as  they  appear  side  by  side,  and  will  thereby  always  become  flattened.  Pro- 
found thought  and  formation  of  judgment  will  always  receive  the  opposite  of 
encouragement,  where,  under  pretense  of  paternal  government,  despotism  regulates 
and  disciplines  the  most  minute  movement  of  thought  and  action— or  rather  imita- 
tion. Whilst  on  the  other  hand  the  mind,  under  neglect  of  mental  penetrativeness, 
becomes  too  lazy  to  become     dissatisfied,  and  invites  despotic  rule. 

Paternal  government.  Deeply  Imbued  Is  thc  cousciousuess  of  that  race  with  nothing  but  ancestry-wor- 

chiid's  fear  of  ghosts,     gjjjp^  ^j^^j  -^j^jj  |;jjg  fg^r  of  the  ghosts  imagined  to  reign  in  the  regions  of  their  native 

homes.    Old  as  the  Chinese  are,  they  remain  children  who  see  a  spectre  in  every 

dark  corner. 

The  emperor  is  the  highest  representative  of  the  realm  of  the  dead,  and  even  its  ruler. 

Deceased  mandarines  are  promoted  by  him  to  the  celestial  court,  or  deposed  by  him  from 

their  high  position,  as  the  case  may  be.    At  any  rate,  and  without  a  doubt  being  uttered  by 

any  Chinaman,  the  emperor's  will  is  done  in  heaven  as  it  is  upon  earth.    Undoubted       is  his 

Imperial  Shintbism  ability  and  sole  authority  to  dispatch  money  and  clothing  to  the  departed. 

It  is  known  what  careful  attention  is  paid  to  this,  the  imperial  form  of  Shintoism 
("ghost"  worship,)  and  what  complicated  means  of  intercourse  with  the  other  world 
this  ancestor-worship  produces  :  each  being  made  an  affair  of  state  and  diplomacy. 

Over  the  total  darkness  of  ancient  Shamanism  there  is  spread  out  a  layer  of 
Sabism,  a  somewhat  embellished  copy  of  the  former. 

"There  existed  a  being,  perfect  and  incomprehensible;  before  heaven  and  earth 
came  into  being.  It  was  so  silent,  so  supernatural.  It  alone  remains  unchangeable. 
It  can  go  through  anything  without  getting  hurt.  It  may  be  considered  as  the 
world-mother.    I  know  not  its  name.    If  I  want  to  designate  it,  I  name  it  TAO." 

Taoism,  mixture  of  So  we  read  in  Y.  V.  Strauss's  translation  of  the  Tao-te-king.    Tao  is  the  mental  presenta- 

ast"äi*shamanism°  ^"^    ^^^^  ^^  *^^  Unity  of  all,  an  uncorporcal,  apparition-like  spirit.    This  is  enough  for  the  practi- 
fSabisin.j  cal  sense  of  the  Chinaman. 

In  this  apperception  we  recognise  that  form  of  consciousness  which  seizes  upon 
if*^nujt'nd°™nunu'i5!  those  most  aucleut  aud  primitive  traditions,  whose  meaning  is  entirely  forgotten, 
construing  them  into  astral  phantoms— into  some  center  of  cohesive  continuity. 

Phantasy,  as  a  genetal  thing,  has  no  access  to  the  institutions  of  social  or  politi- 
cal life.  It  is  not  historically  inclined ;  least  of  all  the  phantasy  of  the  average 
Chinaman,  whose  religious  sense  has  become  absorbed  by  other  weird  phantasms. 
The  Chinese  let  the  state  attend  to  thought  and  religion,  this  being  considered  as  the 


Cause  of   Chinese  toler 
ance. 


n.  A.  CH.  XL  §  53.         PATRIARCHAL  MONARCHISM  I  GOVERNMENT  TUTELAGE.  127:- 

business  of  government  exclusively.    Hence  that  peculiar  tolerance,  or  rather  iMif-  Total  lack  of  the  creative ; 

,  ,-,  J.-1  power  of  the   mind   and ' 

ference  in  religious  matters,  with  which  the  Chinese  are  accredited;  a  tolerence  of  intuition. 
easily  to  be  reduced  to  the  utter  lack  of  imagination,  of  all  intuition.    Such  a  kind 
of  formalism  and  unmitigated,  dull  superstition  never  creates  fanaticism. 

In  the  art  of  China  the  ancient  nomade  life  as  yet  shines  through  the  thin  cover  Reminiscenses  o« 

^  Momade  litem  arcnitec- 

of  lacquer  culture.    The  architectural  style  is  a  reminiscence  of  the  tent  in  the  step-  t«ai  style. 
pes  at  migration  times.    The  gable  end  of  the  roof,  bent  upwards,  and  the  flimsy 
ornamentations  represent  the  hangings  of  the  temporary  habitations  as  they  floated 
in  the  winds  of  the  wilderness. 

The  dogmas  of  political  economy  also  date  from  the  times  of  patriarchal  nom-  secret  of  Chinese  pacu- 
ade  life.    Parental  authority,  applied  to  the  organisation  of  the  family,  the  tribe,  and 
the  state,  is  the  whole  secret  of  China's  peculiarities. 

Under  the  cultivation  of  these  traitsthe  minds  had  become  so  enured  to  fixed 
rules  that,  when  the  people  came  in  contact  with  foreigners   whose  customs  were 
considered  inferior,  as  a  matter  of  course,  alien  culture  found  no  weak  spot  where  to  trSV  ^*''"**^ 
Intrude. 

The  seclusion,  haughtiness  and  selfsufficiency,  the  narrowmindedness,  sullenness  and 
shrewdness  of  the  Chinese  character,  the  finish  and  conservatism  of  the  political  machinery, 
the  circumstantiality  and  ceremoniousness,  the  unconcern  or  its  dissemblance  in  matters  of 
conviction,  the  permanency  of  social  habits,  are  all  explained  by  the  submissive  attitude  to  a  the  same  as  in  any 
government  of  patronage.  With  this  an  authoritative  tutelage  and  management  of  all  the  cian^'^h  community^  ^ 
afPairs  of  life  is  established,  which  deprives  the  obedient  individual  of  all  freedom  even  in 
the  details  of  everyday  life.  Every  thought  is  restricted  to  conformance,  and  coined  into  a 
performance  which  is  prescribed  as  with  a  stencil  pattern,  and  controlled  by  common  habit. 
The  least  digression  is  ostracised,  the  nation  of  children  is  kept  in  leading  strings. 

The  cardinal  virtue  is  loyalty,  to  which  any  effort  of  promulgating  a  different  opinion  is 
offensive,  is  rendered  useless  if  not  dangerous,  and  is  deemed  a  sacrilege,  as  it  is  the  case  in  any 
clannish  community.  The  more  ancient  and  leveling  a  custom,  the  more  binding  it  is.  Incor- 
porated into  governmental  law,  custom  is  utilised  in  keeping  the  people  in  the  bounds  of  fear  Good  behavior. 
and  good  behavior.  Thought  or  private  judgment  is  not  wanted  in  such  a  mechanism  of  citi- 
zenship. If  the  individual  should  see  fit  to  exercise  a  little  selfhood,  it  only  remains  to  him  to 
be  tricky.  Thus  obedient  children  are  trained,  who  necessarily  become  dull  and  tedious,  if 
not  sullen.  They  do  not  threaten,  do  not  object  or  gainsay,  are  not  rude  and  naughty— but 
neither  are  they  affectionate  or  sympathizing,  despite  the  thousands  of  conventional  phrases 
of  feigned  cordiality. 

"Here  in  Sikkim  and  Nepal  as  in  Tibet",  H.  v.  Schlagintweit  relates,  "abusive  nicknames,  Schlagintweit 
in  which  the  conversation  of  the  Hindoos  and  lower  Moslims  in  India  abound,  are  not  heard  at 
all.     Such  good  mannerism  is  the  result  of  Chinese  training  or  rather  drill,  but  it  is  of  too 
ctuestionable  an  inner  quality  as  to  be  counted  with  civilsation.     The  same  in  almost  every 
respect  may  be  said  of  the  Japanese.    From  beneath  the  shallow  refinement  of  formal  conven-  ,  ^    „ 

.„  1..,  TO  .nil»-.      Lacquer  of  refinement. 

tionalism  the  barbarian  traits  of  savagery  and  original  steppe-lif e  occasionally  break  forth  inner  barbarism. 
again.     Wild  nature  is  not  broken  if  it  is  only  subduded ;  it  may  be  polished  by  patriarchal 
rule,  turned  to  gilded  despotism,  and  it  may  be  repressed  by  the  tyranny  of  custom,  but  it  can 
not  be  inwardly  abolished." 

China  resembles  a  man,  who  after  a  premature  old  age  has  become  very  pedantic, 
grave  and  sedate.  The  vast  empire  was  an  upshot  of  rapid  growth,  rough  and  ready  JhTaXr°ftics*  ^^'"'^'^ 
made.  At  present  boyish  traits  look  at  us  out  of  a  wrinkled  face  with  a  dismal 
squint.  Such  is  the  physiognomy  of  that  nation,  such  its  characters:  "A  mixture  of 
cunning  craftiness  and  studied  naivete,  of  pride  and  dissembled  unconcern,  of  artful 
conventionialism  and  passive  endurance." 

The  traits  of  character,  here  as  in  every  other  nation,  reflect  even  from  their  „  ^^  ^.   ,  ^  , 

'  •'  ^Esthetics  lack  of  any 

architecture,  their  aesthetics.    According  to  Semper  "the  elements  of  Chinese  arts  are  leading  idea 

not  organically  connected,  but  mechanically  set  side  by  side,  held  together  by  nothing 

like  a  leading  idea.  A  Chinaman  can  not  abstract  a  single  principle,  to  modify  any  of 

his  maxims  which  are  riveted  into  the  details  of  daily  life  and  do  not  allow  the  least  semper. 

change,  lest  the  whole  fabric  of  Chinese  necessity  should  collapse."    This  is  descrip-  *  ^s. 

tive  enough,  and,  since  it  contains  no  misrepresentation  of  the  Chinese  mind,  proves 

our  estimate  of  its  calibre. 

With  reference  to  the  ritualistic  exhibition  of  the  mixture  of  God  and  world-con-  cuuus  always  the  sourc« 
sciousness  that  is,  reviewing  the  cultus,  from  which  this  national  character  has  <>*'»**'°°''i«'i»"»cter^5g 
grown,  as  it  is  the  case  in  every  other  nation,  we  are,  for  the  first  time,  confronted  by 
an  imperial  religion. 


128  MIXTURE  OF  SHINTOISM  AND  BUDDHISM.  II.  A.  Ch.  XL  §  54. 

fai     lai     li  Ion  "^  space  as  large  as  the  city  of  Paris,  fenced  in  by  high  walls,  a  garden  full  of  shrubbery, 

lakes,  cottages,  and  kiosks  of  exquisite  splendor— such  is  Yuen-Min-Yuen,  the  imperial  resi- 
dence at  Pekin,  the  seat  of  deified  lords  of  the  "Empire  of  the  Middle",  surrounded  by  a 
superabundance  of  oriental  vainglory.    In  the  center  of  the  park  stands  the  celestial  pagoda 
enshrining  the  colossal  statue  of  Buddha,  decked  with  gold  and  jewels. 
Buddhism  shifting  a  When  in  1860  the  French  and  British  broke  into  that   solitude  and  frighted    the  celes- 

layer  over  the^ubstra-  tial  lord  from  his  lair,  they  found  the  halls  yet  filled  with  sttipefying  incense.  The  ampulla- 
Shamanism,  lamps  threw  their  gloomy  flickering  light  upon  the   grotesque  statuettes  of  semi-deities,  of 
monsters  and  beasts.     This  interior  illustrates  what  we  meant  by  the  religioTis  mixture  of  an 
upper  layer  with  the  fragments  thrown  up  through  the  frail  broken  cover,  as  by  an  eruption 
from  the  substratum  beneath. 

sÄmTf  Stoismtn         §  54.    Bef Ore  we  further  speak  of  Buddhism  and  its  shifting  a  layer  of  speculative 
''*^*°  religiousness  over  the  substratum  of  Taoism  and  Shamanism,  we  turn  to  Japan,  where 

Buddhism  flourishes  galore. 

Anterior  to  the  period  in  which  Nipon  was  inundated  by  Buddhism,  it  had  always 

had  its  Mikado,  the  "Son  of  Heaven." 
shintoismaiayerof  re-         Jn  hls  pcrsou  as  lu  the  Chluese  emperor,  the  regal  and  sacerdotal  offices  are 

ligious  speculation  and  ,  "  ..i... 

mythological  conception  uuited.    Aud  the  domiuaut  classes  wrought  the  remnants  or  a  monotheistic  heritage 

on  top  of  Shamanism. 

into  a  multiform  mechanism  of  polytheism.  Old  Shintoism  knew  of  three  pristine, 
personified  powers,  which  presided  over  the  affairs  of  the  whole  world.  But  from  the 
bath  of  Zsanagi's  purification  so  many  deities  arose,  that  at  one  time,  when  evil  spirits 
squirmed  in  the  air,  not  less  then  eight  millions  could  be  mustered       for  defense. 

Inroad  of  Buddhism  at  Under  this  heaven  full  of  good  and  evil  ghosts  a  grand  literature  grew  up.    The  nursery 

the  seat  of  government  of  national  learning  was  the  old  capitol  of  Nara.    Here  the  Ko-ji-ki,  the  ''book  of  old  tradi- 
earning.  tions"  ,  was  compiled  and  published,  the  oldest  source  of  the  historic  knowledge  of  the  Japa- 

nese. At  Nara  the  old  imperial  city  the  governors  of  the  provinces  had  to  report  the  topo- 
graphical, physical  and  political  condition  of  their  parts  of  the  realm.  Then  the  priests  of 
Buddha  from  Siam,  India  and  China  made  an  inroad  into  the  old  town  of  the  Mikado,  the 
monumental  city  of  Great  Nipon  with  its  wealth  of  historic  material.  Buddhism  knew  how 
to  advertise  itself  at  this  place  by  founding  a  large  library  of  Buddhistic,  especially  Chinese 
literature. 

Kami-cult  Underneath  that  conglomerate  of  Shinto-Buddhism  lies  the  formidable  stratum 

of  ancestor-worship  and  spooks.  This  appears  especially  in  the  cult  of  the  Kami,  the 
apotheosised  national  heroes. 

Many  families  of  the  nobility  claim  a  Kami  as  their  ancestor.    Thirteen  thousand  and 
seven  hundred  of  them  are  enumerated,  of  whom  three  thousand  and  seven  hundred  have 
Old  nobility  preserving  temples  dedicated  to  them.    Their  worship  continues  to  send  its  roots  into  the  deep  old  sub- 
traditional  reli^on :         stratum  underlying  Buddhism  thus  draining  off  below  the  surface  the  vital  saps  of  the  oflBcial 
religion.    For  the  Japanese  find  it  more  congenial  to  their  ideas,  to  conjure  departed  souls  by 
the  tinkling  of  bells  and  by  rappings,  and  to  attract  them  and  accomodate  them  by  pieces  of 
paper  strung  up  between  the  posts  of  the  temple-gates,   than  to  undergo  the  selfcastigations 
required  by  the  Buddhistic  hierarchy.    Hence  almost  every  family  in  Japan  keeps  and  vene- 
rates the  miraculous  shinto  mirror  in  private,  besides  the  official  Buddhistic  altar,  either  in  a 
screened  closet  or  in  a  tiny  pocket  case.    Beside  the  image  of  Buddha  tiny  boards  are  put  up, 
Buddhistlc'alto«"  with  the  names  of  the  departed  members  of  the  family  written  upon  them.    Concerning  the 

double  shrine  it  gives  human  nature  a  satisfaction  to  worship  one's  own  ancestors  and  chil- 
dren. Concerning  the  tables  we  find  the  same  usage  from  the  same  source  in  some  parts  of 
Europe  this  day,  where  the  boards  upon  which  the  dead  are  laid  out  are  inscribed  with  some 
epithets,  a  few  crosses  painted  on,  and  set  up  at  bridges  and  crossroads  so  that  whoever  passes 
by  may  say  a  "prayer  for  the  dead." 

Slre^reÄt  o°f  ^^^  ^^^  puckered  jumble  of  the  written  characters  of  the  Turanians  look  to  us 

world-consciousness.      most  awkward,  so  Eastern  Asiatic  art  reveals  idiosyncrasies  which  have  nothing  at 
all  in  common  with  occidental  conceptions.     That  bold,  pouchy  realism,  that  me- 
chanical copying  of  nature  without  an  idea  of  perspective  and  without  a  standpoint, 
Absurdity  of  Mongolian  notwithstanding  the  realism ,  is  accompanied  by  a  mania  for  picturing  ghosts  with 
most  absurd  grimaces  and  distorted  corporeal  shapes.     The   monstrosities  of  the 
decorative  arts  of  the  Turanians  surpass  all  that  ever  could  be  invented  by  Europeans 
in  the  line  of  caricature  representing  freaks  of  the  brain.    The  conceptions  which 
these  drawings  reveal,  awaken  a  sort  of  surprise,  whether  the  variegated  categories 
of  thought  may  not  have  affected  the  structure  even  of  the  painter's  brains. 
Darkness  not  essential        Ingrained  as  these  dark  superstitions  are  into  consciousness  and  life,  yet  such 
to  the  human  soul.        darkucss  Is  allcn  to  human  nature,  is  not  essential  to  it.    The  good  traits  and  ele- 
ments of  tnith  contained  in  every  syncretism,  are  always  separable  from  superstitious 
Search  for  truth.  Incrustatious.    The  Japanese  at  least  are  quick  to  distinguish  the  genuine  truth 

from  fictitious  religiousness.    Naturalism  can  not  satisfy  even  those  Mongolians,  tho 


n  A.  CH.  XI.  §  54.  TIBET  AND  LAMAISM.  129 

it  has  become  embodied  in  every  tissue  of  their  lives.    This  is  the  reason  why  the  Dissaurfaction  with 
"great  East- Asiatic  reformation"  caused  by  the  "Light  of  Asia",  as  Arnold  chose  to  introductl'^^^^^ 
call  and  to  solemnise  the  father  of  Buddhism,  was  so  successful  after  all.  **  """  ''"^""^• 

What  Buddhism  is,  we  only  learned  since  Bohlen  and  Remusat  discussed  it.  "Great Asiatic Befom' 
What  we  then  knew  of  it  heightened  our  esteem,  with  regard,  at  least,  to  the  good  *^^ 

will  in  the  Kantian  sense.    It  can  not  be  expected  of  us,  to  enlarge  upon  that  world  chüracter  of  Buddhism 
of  gods  with  their  groups  of  triads,  etc.    Prof.  Panzer  in  Peking  has  of  late  suflä-  * " 

<  iently  dwelt  upon  "the  Lamaistic  Pantheon",  to  justify  us  in  taking  the  name  of 
Tibet  as  emblematic  for  that  "reform"  by  which  Asia  is  said  to  have  been  felicitated. 
For  that  church-state,  as  it  might  be  called,  represents  today  the  fountain-head  of 
shamanistic  eclecticism,  and  governs  the  large  domain  of  Buddhistic  hierarchism. 

In  its  seclusion,  accessible  only  by  mountain  passes  at  the  height  of  our  highest  moun-  Bohlen-Remusat ; 
tains  like  Mt.  Blanc  or  Mount  Renier,  Tibet  is  the  stronghold  of  the  Buddhism  of  modern      ^"°     ' 
times.    The  Dalai-Lama  with  his  hierarchy  and  his  30000  cloisters  is  a  vassal  of  China,  but  his  ^^"^^^.    ,...  . 
rule  is  more  penetrant,  than  that  of  his  suzerain,  the  son  of  heaven,  himself.     Those  hundred 
large  volumes  of  the  Kandshur  with  the  commandments  of  Buddha  tend  to  that  formalism  of  ^'^^'''  Lama,  Pope  of  the 
which  in  the  days  of  our  childhood  we  read  in  the  description  of  prayer-mills. 

The  worship  of  images  and  relics  is  diversified  and  made  impressive  by  the  heat  of  wax  Kandshur.  Prayer-milis. 
candles  and  by  clouds  of  incense.    We  find  this  culture  from  the  Caspian  Sea  down  to  Ceylon 
and  up  to  the  Altai  range. 

We  presume  on  the  reader's  acquaintance  with  the  Central- Asiatic  doctrines  of  Lamaism  tinctured  with 
incarnation,  and  with  the  fact  that  Lamaism  is  not  only  a  mixture  of  Shamanism  ^^"'*"''*'*y 
with  Buddhism,  but  also  with  Christianity.    Buddha  taught  to  refrain  from  all  sym- 
bolism and  dogmatism  and  for  this  reason  tried  to  prevent  written  formulas.  Thus 
his  teachings  remained  unwritten  for  six  centuries.    Symbolism  was  engrafted  Upon  Nestorians  furnished 
Buddhism  when  the  Nestorians,  driven  from  Persia,  preached  their  most  corrupt  '^""^''^'I'ss,  59, 124,  m. 
form  of  Christianity  all  over  India  and  eastern  Asia  between  A.  D.  636  and  731,  as  the 
inscriptions  of  Siganf u  prove.     Kosmas  Indicopleustes  testifies  that  even  as  early  as  siganfu  inscriptions. 
A.  D.  540  Nestorianism  had  been  successfully  preached  to  the  Huns  and  Bactrians.  f SStes.  ^^^^^' 
Hence  the  many  similarities  of  Buddhism  with  Roman  Catholic  rites. 

Bastian  restored  an  old  picture  of  "Buddha  becoming  incarnate  at  Mavadewi  in  the  Mixture  of  Shamanism, 
form  of  a  white  elephant,  descending  from  the  Tushita  heaven  surrounded  by  a  jubilee-choir  Nestoriani'sm^Buddhlsm 
of  gods."     This  illustrates  the  Asiatic  mixtures  and  tolerance.     Gautama  afterwards  once  Mohamedanism. 
more  left  his  abode  of  Tueshid  in  order  to  enter  the  motherly  womb  of  queen  Maha  Maja  in  ^  ^^'  ^*^'  ^*'" 

the  form  of  a  light  of  five  colors. 

The  restlessness  of  these  transmutations  and  this  religious  eclecticism  continues  Bastians  discovery  of  a 
in  every  man,  until  rest  is  found  in  his  dissolution  into  Nirwana.    This  is  the  final  wi^e^änd  Konf^^^^^ 
accomplishment  of  the  "divine"  Gautama.    The  effects  of  this  speculation  upon  pub-  same^pot""^^^  *'^°°'  *'**' 
lie  life  we  shall  show  in  the  sequel.    Yet  nothing  has  been  held  forth  as  more  praise-  ^  ^^'  ^^ 

worthy  than  Buddhistic  toleration,  which  in  reality  is  nothing  but  an  inertia,  only  of  indifference!'***'*' 
late  arousing  itself  to  a  degree  of  aggressiveness  in  its  death  struggle.    A  Japanese 
picture  shows  Lao-tse,    Buddha  and   Konfu-tse,  each  in  full   figure.     The  three 
"founders  of  religion"  taste  of  a  porridge  out  of  the  same  pot.    Each  finds  the  taste  Explaining  the  easy  ac 
different:  sour,  sweet,  bitter.    This  is  a  piece  of  Asiatic  toleration,  indifference  and  ZZ'^olXiour''"" 
arbitrary  subjectivism.    Such  toleration  did  never  disturb  any  of  the  layers  drifting  ai'wäjTd^es-anfof*" 
alternately  one  over  the  other,  all  covering  the  preceding  ancestor-worship; the  latest  löwifsVaturfs  i^ft***^ 
layer  least  of  all.  The  "religions"  were  all  amalgamated  into  the  porridge  of  Shaman-  '"'*°"*'^i  55.  se,  57, 78. 
ism,  the  worst  form  of  ancestor- worship.       When  later  on  Nestorianism  and  Mo- 
hamedanism were  added  to  the  great  "Ref  orm"-Buddhism,  Brahmanism,  Taoism,  and 
Shintoism,  the  demons  of  the  lowest  stratum  held  their  sway  none  the  less  over  the  thinking  favored  by 
inhabitants  of  the  Gobi,  than  over  those  under  the  palm-trees  along  the  shores  of  the  ^e^*"n*,|*  °""'*^^'27 
Irawaddi.      The  adherents  of  the  "great  reformation"  in  their  satiety  with  the  por-  K?^,  97,  no,  m 
ridge  of  the  imperial  religion,  keep  aloof  in  the  heights  of  all-the-sameness. 

This  attitude  alone  is  suited  to  the  pantheistic  inclination  of  the  oriental  world.  Pantheism  a  compromise 
The  individual  is  to  Nirwana  no  more  than  what  the  drop  is  to  the  ocean.    Man  is  but  d-Snce'l^'LrÄry '"" 
the  transient  appearance  of  that  which  is  mere  being  in  general.    It  will  become  evi-  iuperSn"**  ^^^^*'* 
dent,  however,  that  pantheistic  philosophy  was  not  confined  to  the  Orientals.    It  is  al-  ^  *^ 

ways  favored  by  statesmen  as  a  mean  to  accommodate  all  shades  of  religious  opinion  Advantages  accruing  to 
and  as  a  preventive  against  questioning  the  authority  of  the  ruler  who  represents  the  Ton^'imperrarpantheon 
natural  generalness  of  a  state  in  which  personality  is  suppressed.  The  lowest  form  of  D^ng'i^Aui'ustuT' 
pantheism  is  abetted,  since  ignorance  and  fear  of  the  bad  are  the  most  convenient  ^  ^^'  ^^' "' 


130 :  ANCESTOR  AND  SNAKE-WORSHIP.  IT  A.  Ch.  XL  §  54. 

Buddhism  pleases  the     meäns  to  koep  people  in  subjection,  to  preserve  the  unity  of  an  empire  under  centra- 
pr^'s^^!"^  Napoie^n.^      üsed  power,  aud  to  compromise  between  philosophic  indifference,  arbitrary  legislation,  and 
abject  superstition. 

Hence  also  the  abuse  of  languag^e,  multiform  and  adjustable  as  it  is,  in  all  the  diplomacy, 
ambiguity,  and  sophistry  issuing  from  such  religious  views.    From  that  source  imperial  theo- 
logy and  syncretism  derives  its  advantages.     By  right  of  Buddhism  the  state  can  say  with 
,  Napoleon;  "I  am  fate,  to  me  the  person  is  nothing."     By  right  of  ghost-cult  the  subject  can 

Effects  of  religion  upon  gay :  '*I  Worship  myself."  Thus  both  are  suited,  and  all  must  now  be  preserved  in  accord  with 
nation^and  its  culture,  that  theory  of  existence  in  order  to  avoid  trouble.  Hence  the  sullen  servility  in  matters  of 
M  ^^'l^^Äf^w*'  ^^  politics,  and  stupidity  in  things  concerning  the  mind. 

Chinese- Japanese  influences  are  diffused  over  the  large  fan-shaped  area  of  which 

Sameness  of  aUMongoio-  Farther-Iudia  Tepreseuts  the  handle.    They  are  spread  over  the  Malayan  Sunda 

Malayans  in  toe  Pacwc.  igjauds,  ovcr  Polyuesla  aud  the  Maori,  over  Micronesia  and  Australia,  all  lying  in  the 

mean  between  the  farthest  corners  of  the  fan.    They  hold  sway  over  the  inhabitants 

of  the  entire  Pacific  basin,  all  being  of  the  same  Mongolian  stock.    Viewed  from  the 

distance  these  islanders  all  show  equal  conditions  of  life,  the  same  monotonous  ex- 

tr^^awe  to%ÄIstern  pfesslou  lu  their  physiognomy,  all  sullen  and  servile  on  a  common  level.  On  a  closer 

wingof  Turaninns.       examluatiou  we  uotlce  that  lu  many  places  the  lowest  stratum  with  its  fear  of 

ghosts  is  covered  by  a  growth  of  runners  from  Southern  Asiatic  culture.     On  the 

eastern  wing  especially  the  uniformity  dissolves  into  as  great  a  variety  of  formations 

as  the  flora  of  these  regions.    We  have  there  what  we  designated  a  rubble  or  debris  of 

nationalities,  difläcult  to  classify,  tho  distinct  enough  ;  for  in  one  respect  they  are  all 

Common  to  all  Turan-    aük^  ;  everywhcrc  we  discern  that  state  of  consciousness,  which,  besides  the  fear  of 

Ske-wo^Mp^.^"^*^'      ghosts,  is  subject  to  snake-worship. 

m%t'  *^'  *^'  ^^'  "'         I^et  us  see,  whether  we  are  better  enabled  now  to  understand,  what,  concerning 
this  matter,  was  slightly  touched  upon  in  §  45,  49.    We  return  to  a  somewhat  closer 

American  immigration  of   ,  ^ .        ^ .  »  ^^i  ,  ,   .  •  ^         «    » 

yore.  luvcstigation  of  the  old  immigrants  of  America. 

What  we  know  of  the  prehistoric  "mounds"  found  throughout  the  United  States 
and  Mexico,  is  sufiicient  to  draw  conclusions  tantamount  to  circumstantial  evidence. 
Heaps  of  buffalo  bones  surrounding  these  mounds,  split  open  to  obtain  the  marrow, 
lead  us  to  infer  that  entire  nations  must  have  held  their  wakes  upon  these  burial- 
Mounds  in  forms  of       gTouuds.    These  mouuds  date  back  to  a  period  of  culture  whose  traces  long  ago  have 
Peete.*''^'  ^**'         been  overgrown  by  old  forests,  just  as  the  sands  of  the  Gobi  have  swallowed  up  the 
traces  of  that  culture  in  its  old  native  home.    The  outlines  of  these  mounds  resemble 
the  figures  of  panthers,  leopards,  buffaloes  and  stags,  as  Peet  has  described  even  those 
of  Wisconsin  where  they  are  more  numerous  than  in  Ohio  and  Oregon.    Others  have 
the  lineaments  of  snakes.    The  snake-shaped  outlines  of  mounds  and  buildings  in 
S'^^^SaM*?^*'''*'*"'  *°   Mexico  and  adjacent  countries,  and  the  snake  images  found  in  them,  remind  us  once 
Humboldt.  more  of  the  conclusions  of  Humboldt  as  to  the  relations  of  the  Mexicans  with  -Egyp- 

tian and  Phenician  culture.    They  still  more  vividly  remind  us  of  the  dragon,  the 
Dragon  the  escutcheon  emblem  of  the  Chluese,  and  of  their  emphatic  dragon-worship  of  old.    What  the 
snSy  ttiÄ  Mexfc'o.     dragou  was  to  China,  the  rattlesnake  was  to  Mexico,  the  escutcheon  of  the  nation. 
The  scant  but  very  interesting  remnants  of  the  rich  culture  and  literature  of  the 
Aztecs  which  have  escaped  the  vandalism  of  the  Spaniards,  are  still  said  to  be  enig- 
matic.   The  writings  upon  deerskins  and  agave  fibres  do  not  afford  much  proof  of 
any  historic  sense  in  these  people  ;  hence  they  afford  a  meagre  knowledge  of  their 
Human  sacrifices  of       Mstory.    But  SO  much  Is  dlvulgcd  by  all  the  monuments,  that  a  combination  of 
Anthropophagy  related    ancestor'and  snake-worshlp  under  awe  of  death  was  in  vogue,  and  demanded  incredible 
hecatombs  of  victims  for  human  sacrifices.    A  numerous  caste  of  priests,  worthy  of 
comparison  with  the  Lama  church-state  of  Tibet,  had  knitted    the  meshes  of  the 
most  weir4,  superstition.    Witness  the  masks  worn  at  their  solstistic  dances  ! 
5*dlath-ju?a  mLnu"'         Nowhere,  perhaps,  is  the  God  of  death  more  terribly  pictured,  than  in  the  hiero- 
«cnpt  o  Dresden.         glyph  Maya  mauuscrlpt  at  Dresden,  which  represents  him  with  the  flesh  torn  off  the 
Diego  de  L  nd      t^^ck.    And  the  cults  among  the  Central  American  tribes  seem  ever  to  have  corres- 
»ff^uh  ponded  with  those  illustrations.    Schelhas  quotes  Diego  de  Lando  where  he  says  that 

the  Maya  were  "possessed  of  an  excessive  fear  of  death."    The  natives  of  Yucatan 
Latest  discoveries  in      Ere  possessed  thereof  to  the  present  time. 

**''  A?J.  Mueller.         It  was  in  1889  that  A.  J.  Mueller  found  the  ruins  of  a  prehistoric  Indian  city  in 
Honduras,  ruins  which  compare  well  with  the  monuments  of  Peru  and  Mexico. 


n.  A.  CH.  Xn.  §  55.     SUBSTRUCTURE  OF  AMERICAN  AND  EUROPEAN  CULTURE.  IZX 

They  appeared  to  him  like  objects  of  a  fairy  tale  in  the  midst  of  the  primeval  forest, 

nothing  having  ever  been  heard  of  them.  Toitecs,  pushed  to  the 

^  °  .  .,-r-i  I     '    J.-  •     '         south.     Peru.   Emblems: 

Now  let  us  suppose  that  the  Toitecs,  of  unquestioned  Eastern  Asiatic  origin,  Toads  and  snake«. 
once  peopled  the  regions  of  Central  America  ;  and  that  one  of  their  tribes,  pushed  by 
the  following  Aztecs,  went  south  as  far  as  Peru— then  we  can  but  expect  another 
center  of  culture  of  that  very  same  character,  which  really  existed.  For  whatever 
objects  of  art  have  so  far  been  found  and  investigated  anywhere  in  those  regions, 
bear  the  sign  of  the  toad  and  the  serpent. 

The  Inka  empire  extended  from  the  Sierra  of  the  temperate  zone,  from  Rio  inka  empire, 
Maule  in  Chili  to  the  boundaries  of  Ecuador.    Many  small  tribes  of  their  predeces-  ^  ^^^^.^^^  Monotheism 
sors  disappeared  or  took  shelter  in  the  folded  valleys  of  the  mountain-bound  empire,  sun-service, 

The  consciousness  of  the  Inka  must  be  admitted  to  have  comprised  wrecks  of  a  MSo-son  of °Heaven. 
Monotheism  which  they  had  brought  along  with  them.    For  of  Monotheism  the  sun- 
service  is  always  the  emblematic  reminder,  and  the  Inkas  had  a  fine  liturgy  of  that  char-  änrchi?a/8^emperorr'* 
acter.    As  the  emperor  of  China,  son  of  heaven,  plows  a  furrow  once  a  year,  so  did 
the  ruler  of  Peru  who  was  likewise,  in  his  own  estimation  and  in  that  of  his  subjects,  plowing  a  furrow  in 

.   ,  -  honor  of  the  Sun-God  by 

a  son  of  the  sun.  inka  rulers,  equal  to  the 

Chinese  custom. 

But  the  sun-service  was  broken  into  fragments  under  the  overwhelming  massiveness  of 
stark  fear  of  night  and  terror  of  death,  fuming  up  from  the  lowest  stratum.    Along  the  whole  ^""oSpTnd  *humIS'**" 
line  from  Peru  to  Utah  the  same  dismal  aspect.    All  those  illustrations  which  Humboldt  copied  sacrifices  from  fear  of 
as  early  as  1816,  and  those  which  Squire  of  late  published  from  Pensacola  and  Masaya,  show 
the  same  repulsive  combination  of  animal  and  demon.     They  indicate  also  the  origin  of  an-  tiie  sam  "source.'^*"*    *** 
thropophagism  in  worshiping  that  which  is  most  terrible  and  loathsome.  Humboldt. 

When  Seler  visited  the  Toltecian  ruins  of  Xochicalco  in  Mexico  at  the  close  of  1887  he     ^u*''®' 
found  a  free-standing  stone  figure  of  a  decapitated  man  with  the  breast  cut  open  and  the  Origin  of  anthropopha- 
ribs  laid  bare.    It  represents  the  symbol  of  human  sacrifices,  a  skinned  victim.     The  custom  ^''"^  **'  cannibalism. 
of  scalping  among  the  Indians  here  finds  its  explanation ;  and  perhaps,  that  of  anthropopha-  A  skinned  victim— stone 
gism.    With  this  we  close  the  analysis  of  the  first  part  of  the  first  circle  of  nations  which  Jft"e"the°rrse  of  the'"**'" 
comprises  the  great  Mongolo-Malayan  group.  custom  of  "scalp- 

ing."   Seler. 

CH.  XII.     TURANO-MONGOLIAN  WORLD :    B.  WESTERN  WING. 

§  55.  From  the  earth's  ramparts  in  Central- Asia  our  glance  followed  those  emi- 
grants starting  from  the  regions  of  the  Dragon  lake  over  the  wastes  of  the  Gobi  and 
over  the  waters  of  the  Pacific.  We  are  now  going  to  look  up  those  Mongolians  who 
went  westward.  We  here  also  strike  those  fundamental  layers  upon  which  the 
edifice  of  history  is  being  reared. 

Toward  the  north  and  thence  to  the  west  the  Ugro- Altaic,  Ugro-Tataric,  and  Finnish  Western  Mongolians, 
tribes  spread  out.  Previously  we  called  them  Western  Mongolians  of  whom  some  as  yet  speak 
the  Turanian,  and  which  we  now  enumerate  as  East- Jakians,  Wogulians,  Hungarians  (of 
Magyar  descent)  and  Turks,  coming  from  Central  Asia.  They  were  followed  by  the  Shamanic 
nomades,  the  Jakians  from  Tobolsk  and  Toms.  Supplementary  to  th^  notice  taken  of  them 
we  annex  the  mention  of  a  few  facts  which,  in  their  proper  connection,  may  serve  to  verify 
our  explanation.  Into  the  masses  of  Ugrian  tribes  Permians  and  Wotjakians  pushed  them- 
selves, and  even  some  Samojedes  pressed  on  to  the  west. 

In  Num,  the  supreme  deity  of  the  Samojedes,  there  is  most  probably  a  remnant  Remnant  of  monotheis- 
retained  of  the  primitive  monotheistic  tradition.    According  to  B.  v.  Struve  there  samojedesTN^ra  bird 
sits  near  every  hut  of  the  Samojedes  a  bird  idol  with  spread  wings,  a  rough  sample  of  Rv.^sifruve. 
wood  carving,  upon  a  high  pole.    The  bird  is  imagined  to  take  wings  and  communi- 
cate matters  to  the  highest  god. 

Priklonsky  in  a  lecture  given  in  1885  informs  us  that  the  Jakutes  will  seldom  rest  in  the  superstitious  fear  of 
shade  of  a  tree,  but  hurriedly  try  to  get  around,  being  afraid  of  the  ghost  that  might  dwell  death  among  Yacutes  the 

.  J        J         ^  1  e  _,.,.  i,i  same  as  With  Australian 

upon  It.    Their  frame  of  consciousness  precisely  equals  that  of  the  Australian  negro    of  today,  negroes. 

The  Shamanist,  raging  before  the  fire  in  his  narrow  jurte  filled  with  dense  smoke,  is  im-  Priklonsky. 
agined  to  be  possessed  of  evil  spirits.    He  is  then  "merjaetsh"  as  they  call  it,  in  the  same  condi- 
tion which  the  South  Sea  Islanders  designate  as  "lata",  or  the  learned  white  people  as  "hypno- 
tized."   Those  nature-bound  people  do  not  understand  what  the  white  people  pretend  to  know  shamanfste*'^ef- 
about  this  condition;  whoever  becomes  merjsetsh  is  thought  to  be  bewitched,  or  under  control  jaetsh."' 
of  a  strong  spirit  governing  his  grimaces  and  his  speech. 

Around  the  Caspian  Sea,  on  the  Tobol  and  Yenisei,  at  the  foot  of  the  Caucasian  moun-  shamanism  of  Tatars. 
tains,  and  in  the  Crimean  peninsula,  the  Tatars  made  themselves  at  home.  In  their  broad 
steppes  Shamanism  took  its  most  advanced  forms.  There  the  spectres,  the  souls  of  the  de- 
parted, dwell  in  the  clefts  of  the  rocks,  or  roam  about  the  steppes  and  snow-fields ;  to  prevent  paraphernalia  of  con- 
them  from  doing  mischief  is  the  all  important  question,  a  thing  of  indefatigable  efforts  and  jurers— dead  snakes — 
permanent  anxiety.  The  conjurer  called  for  appears  in  a  leather  cassock  hung  with  bells,  of^le  departed!*  '*'"^ 
eagles'  talons,  fur  rugs,  and— dead  snakes.  Dancing  in  the  moonlight  or  in  the  weird  glare  of 


132 


MONGOLIANS  INVADING  EUROPE. 


n.  A.  ch.  xn.  §  55. 


F«ti8hes  of  the  Lapps. 

W<)t(fiipifsringi.ii 


Traces  of  bloody  sacri- 
fices. 


Finnish  preserved  more 
of  Monotheism  than  the 
Samojedes. 
Jumala  and  Taara. 


Historical  incursions  of 
Europe  by  Asiatics 
swarms,  associated 
with  tlie  building  of  the 
Chinese  wall. 

Bitter. 

(55,  60,  150.) 

Organisation  and  mental 
superiority  wards  off  the 
savages.  (§  55,  150) 

Instrumental    in    break- 
ing down  the  Roman 
empire;  and  fitting    the 
Germans  to  retrench 
further  oriental  on- 
slaaghts. 
(Syllabus  VII.  Divis 

§180) 

Chinese  speak  of  the 
Hunjo  2000  B.  C. 


A  Mongolian    appearing 
in  Europe  to  settle  its 
problems. 


Atttla's  court. 


Seldjukkians  under 
Togrul  Beg. 
Turks 


incite  the  Knights  of 
Europe  to  venture  upon 
the  crusades. 

Import  of  three  other 
Mongolians    upon   Euro- 
pean culture: 

Dsengis  Khan's 

invasion. 


Mongolian  culture  was 
sot  to  be  imposed  upon 
the  west. 

Batu  Khan 

beaten  back  upon  the 
Wahlstott. 


Mongolian  culture  in  its 
bloom  under 

Timur. 

Samarkand. 


torchlights  to  the  beat  of  a  drum  until  he  falls  into  a  mad  stupor,  his  members  become  dis- 
torted, he  foams  out  of  his  mouth ;  he  hears  the  ghost  and  goes  into  a  trance.  Now  his  soul 
wanders,  and  frights  ofiP  the  souls  of  the  dead,  transformed  into  a  beast,  as  the  poor  dupes  be- 
lieve. 

More  of  the  hordes  from  the  Asiatic  table  lands  push  toward  the  west.  Bulgarian 
people,  Tshermissians  and  Mordwinians,  wander  round  about  the  Caucasus,  while  the 
Esthonians,  Livonians,  Finns  and  Lapps  move  to  the  Baltic  lowlands  where  they 
form  the  last  drifts  of  the  Mongolian  left  wing. 

The  Lapps,  reindeer- nomad  es,  were  distinctively  fetish  worshipers.  The  hundreds  of 
small  idols,  which  Nordenskioeld  gathered  upon  Waigatsh  island  in  1882,  were  nothing  else  but 
fetishes.  They  were  wooden  sticks  and  splinters  stuck  close  together  into  the  ground  around 
the  spot  where  sacrifices  used  to  be  made.  Near  the  upper  end  of  the  splinters  at  equal  height, 
crudely  carved  faces  can  be  distinguished,  eyes  and  mouths  at  least  being  marked.  And  the 
marks  of  the  mouths  were  bedaubed  with  blood  at  the  sacrificial  meals. 

The  Finns  in  their  Jumala  and  Taara  also  preserved  the  idea  of  the  one  God.  Their 
other  gods  are,  like  those  of  the  .IJgyptians,  merely  the  forms  of  his  appearance.  So,  at  least, 
we  are  told  by  those  who  have  been  there.  Thus,  all  these  people  who  originally  started  from 
the  high  plateaus  of  Central  Asia  and,  following  the  waters,  moved  on  to  Cape  North,  to  Ice- 
land and  Greenland,  dropping  a  tribe  occasionally,  which  went  with  other  hordes  to  the 
south-west,  as  for  instance  the  Baskes— appearing  like  storm  dashed  waves,  enduring  hard- 
ships, rather  than  to  be  left  behind  and  alone. 

Not  a  few,  Carl  Ritter  among  them,  have  associated  the  great  inundation  of  the  west  by 
the  swarms  from  Asia,  ceasing  at  the  time  of  the  Hunnish  invasion,  with  the  building  of  the 
Chinese  wall.  This  occurred  when  the  far  west  was  suflBciently  organized  to  ward  off  the 
savages  by  the  powers  of  mental  superiority. 

The  turbulent  elements  throwing  themselves  upon  Western  Asia  and  Europe, 
caused  those  commotions,  by  which  Europe  was  populated.  Harrassing  again  and 
again  the  horrified  nations  between  the  Euphrates  and  the  Rhine,  they  were  instru- 
mental in  breaking  down  the  Roman  empire  and  in  making  the  Germans  that  na- 
tion, which  henceforth  was  destined  to  repel  oriental  onslaughts  and  to  regulate  the 
balance  of  power  this  side  the  Himalayas. 

Through  the  passes  of  the  black  Yrtish,  across  the  Tsungarian  plains  the  Huns  sallied 
forth,  the  same  savages  which  were  recorded  as  the  "Hunjo"  in  Chinese  annals  as  early  as 
2000  B.  C.  They  came  down  like  a  tornado,  vanquished  the  Alanes  and  the  Goths  and  set- 
tled down  between  the  Volga  and  the  Danube.  There  Attila  sat  in  his  wooden  castle ;  and 
whenever  he  took  to  the  saddle,  Europe  trembled  from  the  Ural  to  the  Pyrenees.  If  not  on 
horseback  he  sat  upon  his  wooden  throne  and  drank  from  wooden  cups,  whilst  out  of  doors 
day  by  day  were  waiting  for  an  audience  the  ambassadors  of  Goths  and  Gepides,  princes  of 
Tatars  from  the  regions  of  the  Volga  and  the  Dniepr,  keorls  of  the  Burgundians  and  from 
the  downs  of  the  Baltic,  emissaries  from  Geiseric  in  Africa,  from  Theodosius'  sons  in  Byzan- 
tium and  from  Ricimer  in  Rome.  Ushered  in  finally  to  the  presence  of  "the  avenger  of  God" 
as  he  proudly  calls  himself,  they  drink  to  his  good  luck,  out  of  golden  chalices  and  dine  off  the 
silver  plates  of  Attila.  Under  the  glittering  splendor  of  gold  and  jewels  they  listen  to  the 
singers  from  Moguntia  (now  Mayence)  and  are  now  amused  by  the  puns  of  a  Scythian  buffoon 
and  then  again  by  the  torch-dance  of  Caucasian  mountaineers.  Motionless  and  austere  in 
crude  plain  jacket  and  leather  pants,  sits  Attila,  eyeing  his  surroundings.  He  eats  his  raw 
meat,  softened  under  the  saddle,  from  a  wooden  saucer,  selfcomplacent  in  the  consciousness 
that  thrones  shake  when  he  will  mount  the  horse,  because  an  empress  refused  his  hand  or  a 
princess  was  denied  him  by  her  brother.    Was  he  less  civilised  than  a  certain  Napoleon  ? 

Much  like  the  turmoil  of  the  Huns  that  of  the  Seldjukkians  sallies  forth  under  Togrul 
Beg.  They  push  on  from  the  Oxus  (Sihon)  through  Iran  and  Syria  down  to  Mgypt,  They  set 
up  and  upset  throne  after  throne,  and  are  imitated  by  the  Turks  following  close  at  their  heels, 
mere  bands  of  adventurers,  all  of  Mongolian  descent.  Every  child  knows  how  their  move- 
ments, in  western  Asia  brought  the  knights  of  Europe  upon  their  feet  once  more. 

And  once  more  the  Moguls  rush  their  hosts  down  from  the  Central-Asiatic  fountain-head 
of  nations  toward  the  south-west.  Soon  an  empire  is  founded,  reaching  from  Japan  to  Prus- 
sia and  to  the  Persian  gulf.  The  Dsengis  Khan  held  sway  over  an  area  of  quicksand  which 
many  a  czar  has  coveted  ever  since.  He  bridled  the  wild  and  fluctuating  masses;  but  he  could 
not  make  them  all  adopt  Mongolian  culture.  His  nephew  Batu  whirled  along  with  his 
throngs  other  swarms  over  90  degrees  of  longitude,  until  the  Turks  were  flung  way  out  to  the 
Wahlstatt  on  the  Katzbach.  Such  progress,  working  destruction  only,  could  not  induce  the 
remnant  of  the  vanquished  to  enure  themselves  to  Mongolian  culture,  neither  could  fear  par- 
alyse them  for  a  great  length  of  time,  altho  nine  sacks  were  filled  at  Liegnitz  with  the  ears  of 
the  slain  Germans.  Two  centuries  later  from  China  to  Greece,  from  the  Indus  to  the  Volga 
the  earth  again  groaned  under  the  hoofs  of  Mongolian  millions,  called  "the  golden  hord." 
Timur,  the  grandson  of  the  great  Khan,  made  Samarkand  his  residence,  from  thence  to  con- 
quer Bagdad  and  Damascus,  whither  he  dragged  learned  men  and  libraries.  Samarkand  be- 
came lor  the  dominion  of  the  Moguls  what  Nare  of  old  had  been  to  Nipou. 


n.  A.  CH.  Xn.  §  56.      CHARACTERISTICS  OF  ASIATIC  FRAME  OF  MIND.  133; 

Dsengis'  policy  to  unite  the  world  under  the  religion  of  "one  god  and  the  lama"  Dsengis  Khan's  dipio- 
seemed  to  become  realised,  for  the  Mongolians  upon  their  travels  and  exploits  must  glon^  ^knowiägme""' 
have  become  conscious  of  the  fact,  that  the  mind  alone,  and  not  millions  of  swords  in  Mono^thoiir*/ieids"*"*''^ 
the  fists  of  savages,  will  ever  be  able  to  subdue  the  world.  Lama.''*^  ^"** 

At  Samarkand— once  built  by  Alexander,  under  a  similar  adaptation  of  court        "'^*^  Frederick  ii.> 
theology  to  politics— among  phantastic  monuments  of  mixed  religions,  Timur's  tomb  fogy^^ politico ''"pÄel 
is  shown,  the  resting  place  of  the  ninth  descendant  of  an  "immaculate  conception.''  1^5*24  irw-sTos 
It  lies  in  the  mosque  of  Turbeti  facing  toward  Mecca.     It  was  immaterial  to  the  ad-  «*«''' 
vanced  Mongolians  that  the  Lama  had  to  recede  in  their  esteem,  in  exchange  for  Timurs  tomb  fronts 
"ISLAM  AND  ALLAH"— if  ouly  the  idea  of  being  a  son  of  "the"  god  prevailed.    Vambery  ^""""^  "**"'■ 
found  the  tomb  covered  with  a  green  slab,  cracked  through  the  middle.    More  than  Aiiah  annexed  to  Lama. 
one  Mongolian  empire  burst     likewise ;  and  many  another  kingdom  for  that  matter.  "™  ^^^^ 

But  few  had  obtained  to  such  large  proportions  in  so  short  periods  and  caused  such  Songonrn  wÄ^^ 
wide-spread  commotions.  „         ^.  ^^ 

^  ,.  ,  ,  .,,,  .,»,,,  Sun-worship  the  most 

§  56.    Now  we  are  ready  for  a  retrospect  upon  that  large  circle  of  cultured  na-  ancient. 
tions  stretching  fan-like  from  the  Asiatic  crest-line  of  the  globe  eastward  to  Peru  and 
the  Delaware-westward  to  Cape  North  and  the  Vistula.  •  fsrXn',%org:S 

As  the  basis  of  the  uncultural  life  of  these  nations  we  found  a  very  ancient  sun-  f^^^'  ^oT"his^  own 
worship,  carrying  along  with  it  the  remnants  of  original  Monotheism.    Its  rays  re-  personality, 

^^  ff  ^        o  o  o  ^  V  which  relapses    into  th« 

fleet  a  broken  light,  broken  m  the  colored  prism  of  Heli-olatry;  or  it  goes  side  by  nfe  of  the  genus. 
side  with  it,  down  even  into  lower  forms.    The  remnants  we  found  with  the  Finns, 
the  Samojedes,  and  the  Inkas  as  well  as  in  China.  IhS^pTorm^peTpl 

As  the  product  and  final  outcome  of  religious  degradation  we  here  found,as  we  sumpof'Surargene^r- 
will  find  everywhere,  impotency  of  personal  life  wherever  its  spiritual  side  tries  to  wuttke. 
manifest  itself,  and  the  relapse  into,  if  not  below,  common  natural  life.    Wuttke  <*^^^ 

justly  observed,  that  "the  sum  and  substance  of  Chinese  consciousness,  in  conse- 
quence of  its  tradition,  may  be  formulated  into  this  judgment:  "Only  that  type  of  life  Reason  for  denial  of 
is  perpetuated,  which  bears  the  stamp  of  natural  generalness,  whilst  individuality  and  st'a'trörimmoruiit/: 

^  ,..  ,.,  1  J  •!>»  fear  of  the  dead,  causes 

personality  completely  submerge  and  vanish.  extravagance  inobse- 

Confu-tse  proclaimed:  "If  I  should  say,  that  the  dead  were  conscious  of  anything,  Confu-tse. 
pious  sons  would  squander  their  property  with  funeral  obsequies."  We  agree  with  M.  issue  of  Buddhism,  de- 
Mueller  in  that  the  issue  of  Buddhism,  despite  all  the  ado  made  as  to  its  reformatory  Smalion!  Llinte  ^ 
effects,  amounts  to  "entire  extinction."    Hence  the  feeling  of  guilt  vanishes  first  from  ivIfMueUer.'"'' 
personal  consciousness,  and  what  faint  knowledge  of  the  bad  is  indellibly  imprinted 
upon  the  mind  is  objectivised  and  fastened  to  something  outside.    The  only  princi-  guiuSn°d'^.M*on''^*^' 
pie  warranting  a  hope  of  recovery  succumbs  into  the  terror  of  outside  powers  which  '°'"^*^'''«  (r2*r59,^09.) 
are  held  to  be  the  evil-doers.    Scarcely  a  faultiness  common  to  all  is  perceived  much  common  dismay,  leaving 
less  acknowledged;  the  presence  of  sin  and  guilt  and  their  consequences  is  only  indi-  Tym^pThy  wiTöthers. 
cated  by  being  changed  into  common  dismay  and  sad  resignation.     Hence  a  per-  '  ^  ^^'  ^^'  ^^'  ^^-^ 

son's  suffering  does  not  come  under  consideration  of  sympathy.    Within  the  Mongo-  fngs*suif' delpStlsS'^'and 
lian  form  of  consciousness  or  character  there  is  no  more  sympathy  than  that  a  young  „f^tiTe  w«  c^asTef *''''^ 
brother  shows  to  his  little  crying  sister.    The  sufferings  of  earthly  life  in  general  g  is,  20, 24,  s*,  55, 56. 
are  only  here  and  there  slightly  spoken  of  in  a  theory.    These  intoxicant,   misty  ^    ..  .».  ^   . ,  *  . 

*'  <->«  O.J  .  Despite  the  denial  of  sin 

pantheistical  theorisings  arß  extremely  confounding  to  popular  understanding;  but  ^^'^^fenK iif e*"^  *** ^''^ 
we  will  always  find  them  to  suit  despotism  and  to  aggravate  the  condition  of  the 
lower  classes  brooding  apathy  and  seeking  solace  in  superstition.    Hence,  despite  the  lelTresrgnaLn'u) the 
ignoring  of  personal  sin  and  guilt,  we  find  no  trace  of  real  felicity  in  the  whole  Mon-  cestrai  ghosts,*who''arr" 
golian  circle.    But  everywhere  we  find  the  mind  as  having  surrendered  to  habitual  ortCnving  and  mnsf* 
dejection  under  the  permanent  fear  of  death,  under  the  fright  of  ancestral  ghosts  as    *  ""^  *  ""^  *^^^Tio9. 
tho  they  were  the  foes  of  the  living,  to  be  either  pacified  or  fought.  Abomination  of  wiid 

This  is  the  secret  of  the  permanent  abomination  of  wild  Shamanism;  it  turns  fCe*eTeme*nt "I  true 
one  more  element  of  tradition,  the  truth  represented  in  sacrifices,  into  the  dreadful  J^to  thTd^eadfui  hS  of 
rites  of  scalping  and  anthropophagy.    In  its  further  degradation  Shamanism,  with  its  ^^^l^^^  '^^  anthropo- 
arts  of  con  jury  and  necromancy,  turns  to  fetishism,  where  still  another  remnant  of 
traditional  truth  is  perverted  to  snake-worship.    This  latter  most  emphatically  ex-  Iw  the  te^rtei^  ima 
hibits  the  fear  of  the  evil  spirit,  and  is,  as  we  had  occasion  to  observe,  the  earliest  and  fsm^*^'^*  '^^  ***"'^' 
basest  form  of  corrupted  God-consciousness,  into«  which  we  found  humanity  to  have  from  fear  of  the  nigh* 
fallen,  and  by  which  it  was  dragged  into  abject  fear  of  the  night  and  the  anguish  of  "''  ° 


tSi  ♦      FORMS  OF  LIFE  RESULTING  FROM  PAGANISM.  11.  A.  CH.  XII.  §  56. 

death — after  the  great  calamity.  It  was  only  where  the  vestiges  of  Monotheism  were, 
VKSTiG«sof  MoKoiHMSM  to  some  cxtent,  preserved  in  traditions  and  in  the  sacred  reminiscences  of  the  mind, 
incue  discussfönt  and'*'  that  a  hlstorlcal  sense  was  created  by  which  memory  was  revived  and  by  which  so- 
through'suTwolsmp,"'^*  clety  was  cultlvated  and  organised.  On  the  basis  of  tradition,  however,  these  vesti- 
p"gan4"""  ^"  '  ges  became  distorted  in  myths  and  under  rituals  and  symbols  no  longer  under- 
oiogyf' ^ '  stood.    Owing  to  them  it  was,  that  reminiscences  perpetuated  the  elements  of  pris- 

tine truths  to  be  discussed  by  better  situated  people  of  leisure — that  these  disjoined 
remnants  were  even  by  the  Turano-Mongolians  combined  and  established  as  sun-ser- 
vice and  similar  rites  of  higher  paganism. 

Traces  of  truth  in  tradi-  ^^  *^®  score  of  traditional  religiousness  we  thus  far  collected  the  traces  of  the  following 

tionai  religiousness;  and  yiz :  One  God  above,  in  Heaven ;  man's  personality  notwithstanding  the  unity  of  humanity ;  his 
^"^(8  24,  41,  47,  48,  53.)  dominion  over  nature,  and  his  immortality;  his  consciousness  of  guilt  and  of  the  necessity 
Demonolatry,  of  expiation  through  sacrifices;  his  strong  recollections  about  the  arch-enemy.  We  saw  them 

Bad  objectivised,  ^jj^  however,  subverted  into  necromancy,  cannibalism  and  fetishism  on  the  one  side,  and  into 

pantheism,  despotism  and  nihilism  on  the  other.  In  the  worst  forms  of  demonolatry  we 
observe  the  "bad"  conscience  objectivised  in  snakes,  dragons,  demons;  in  fearful  foes  haunt- 
ing "bad  lands"  ao  nights,  which  the  terrified  pagans  are  only  too  anxious  to  conciliate. 

bHngslSh  'pl^s^         Speculative  paganism  finally  takes  shape  in  pantheism,  which  is  but  the  syste- 

irsE  with'pJl^hwsm!'''"'  matised  compromise  with  polytheism,  by  means  of  which  the  knowing  ones  take  the 

advantage  of  the  lower  class;  for  we  will  find     again  and  again  that  religion  is  thus 

corrupted,  or  rather  such  scheming  eclecticism  aims  at  nothing  with  more  insidious- 

pl^thS.**'*^''"*'^      ness  than  to  keep  the  raw,  great  bulk  of  uncultured  people  in  political  subjection 

and  in  ignorance,  and  in  the  mistrust  and  fear  anent  to  it.  ^ 

In  the  Mongolian  quarters  of  the  city  of  Urga,  where  the  "chair  of  the  Kutucha"  is  dis- 
posed of  by  the  rulers  in  Hlassa,  Prschewalsky   found  most  of  the  people  to  belong  to  the 
priestly  caste,  to  the  rank  of  Lama.    He  ascertained,  that  one-third,  at  least,  of  all  the  iiihabi- 
y  n     assa.         tants  of  Mongolia  belong  to  that  class.     The  Higenes  in  the  temples  of  that  country  are  self- 
conceited  enough  to  esteem  themselves  as  corporeal  gods,  whilst  of  still  higher  rank  in  the 
. . .   j^g  ,   hierarchical  scale  they  deem  their  spiritual  brother  in  Bogdokuren  before  whom  they  all 
pRECHBWALsinr.      '  prostrate  themselves    on   the  ground.    This  hierarchy  of  Higenes  and  Lamas  drains  the  sap 

Parallel  with  R^ome'^ll^  ^^  *^®  coui'try  and  the  marrow,  as  it  were,  out  of  the  oppressed  subjects.     They  are  the  para- 
172.  sites  who  live  high  at  the  expense  of  the  rest  of  the  people,  and  use  a  11  the  prerogatives  of 

birthright  to  hinder  the  poor  mass  of  their  nation  from  obtaining  any  knowledge  and  from 
escaping  the  benighted  and  paralysing  superstitions  in  which  they  spend  their  lives  and  are 
Parallel  with  the  theocra-  thus  purposely  kept.     We  remember  what,  in  the  same  method,  the  paternal  system  of  im- 
(8  54.  perial  theology  has  done  for  the  despot  in  Peking  and  for  his  stupefied  people. 

Arts  of  the  Mongolian  With  refercuce  to  arts,  as  far  as  they  always  most  explicitly  and  inadvertently 

tT'^mJntaTanr^stheti-  Tö^eal  the  moods  of  an  age  and  a  nation,  there  hovers  over  the  whole  Mongolian 
cai  n'ieciTanism'l'iii^S-  worM  the  solltary  tendency  to  keep  the  whole  beehive  in  mechanical  activity.    With 
ing  in  reiigion.^^  ^^  ^^^  regard  tp  mental  culture— which  on  the  whole,  is  neither  more  nor  less  tinctured  with 
religion  than  any  other  concern  of  life,  inasmuch  as  every  phase  of  it  must  be  offi- 
ciously religious— everything  and  everybody   is  kept  on  a  conservative  level,  which 
the  government  well  understands  how  to  regulate  by  its  political  mechanism. 
Mental  progress  stiffled         With  regard  to  SBsthetlcs  one  taste  only  is  allowed  to  be  fashionable,  but  one  ab- 
5ffld7i-rSus  pre!     solutely  wclrd,  odious,  and  horrible  style  is  fostered.    Any  digression  from  the  cus- 
scriptions.      ^  ^^  ^^  tomary  forms  of  representative  art  would  betray  a  disloyal  tendency  which  would 
throw  the  state  machinery  out  of  gear  and  is,  therefore,  ostracised  by  the  common 
and  silent  consent  of  public  opinion,  if  not  by  legal  action. 

-,       ,        ,j         .  All  the  idols  of  the  Incas,  Aztecs,  and  Japanese,  down  to  those  of  the  Esquimaux    and 

Mongol .  world-consci-         -r        ,        ■,  .,  ',,  .,.  .  i«»..  i^ 

ousness  in  aesthetics,        Laplanders  excite  the  same  abhorrence,  conveying  the  impression  not  only  or  what  can  ever  be 
MerclreL^subje^"'        imagined  in  the  line  of  the  brutish  and  the  repulsive,  but  of  that  which  is  frightful  and  satanio 
in  the  line  of  monstrosities. 

Absolute  despotism  .  _         ,, 

wiews  «le  machinery  of         All  social  aud  poHtlcal  mattcrs  of  the  Mongolians  must  thus  remain  under  the 

^n,i5,49,  54,  55,  58,  sway  of  the  individual  willfulness  and  unquestionable  authority  of  an  absolute  des- 

perverted  patriarchism.  pot.      A  perverted  patriarchal  government  rules  over  masses  void  of  any  will  of 

§  53. 70, 172.  ^j^^. J.  ^^^^  merely  drilled  into  a  most  abject  servility  and  endurance  by  pressure". 

Merciless  castes  by  right  of  birth  domineer  over,  and  abuse  stupid  inferiors  who  bear 

«ndurrnce'^ot  pr^sure!  uo  Sympathy  toward  each  other,  and  who  do  not  see  any  wrong  with  all  their  suffer- 

•JmpatoJ*witVothe"rl"'  lug.    What  orlgiually  was  patriarchal  control  became  a  governmental  mechanism  of 

§55, 58,68, 72.  |.^^gj^gg  j^j.  £j.^jjj  patemal  care,  over  intimidated  masses  of  intellectual  minors. 

Such  rule  is  always  observable  in  states  of  East-Mongolian  origin,  in  the  empires  of  the 
Chinese  and  the  Aztecs,  for  instance ;  but  also  among  the  West-Mongolian  hordes  which  once 
covered,  or  still  populate,  or  at  least  temporarily  inundated,  the  largest  part  of  Europe.    And 


n.  A.  Ch.  Xn.  §  57.  PANTHEISM,  OPPRESSION,  HATRED  OF  INTELLECTUALISM.  135 

on  another  occasion  we  shall  find  the  judgment  corroborated,  that  the  patriarchal  conditions,  Dangers  of  patriarchal 
once  lauded  by  Rousseau  and  Herder,  that  a  paternal  rule  with  a  system  of  patronage  as  re-   -^a^tVonaTe*' and'tute- 
cently  advocated  by  Guizot  may  conduct  the  training  of  good- mannered    children  and  poll-  |?8^'  once  extolled  by 
tical  dependents,  but  will  always  turn  into  despotism—  of  which  the  modern  "bossism"  in  Guizot. 
politics  is  not  always  just  a  mild  form,   under  whose  party  whip,  even  in  republics,  the  spirit       '^j^l'  ^"p^p™^"^' 
of  freedom  is  as  much  in  jeopardy  as  it  is  killed  by  the  Russian  "kuute." 

Despotism  then,  in  its  Asiatic  as  well  as  occidental  forms,  ever  shows  its  f unda-  s^^^^  thkocbact. 
mental  peculiarities  in  two  always  recurring  characteristics.    A  state  built  upon 
filial  devotedness  and  loyal  obedience  will  abuse  that  good-naturedness  and  apply  the 
iron  rod  in  order  to  retain  its  senile  children  in  a  state  of  pliability,  external  subord- 
ination and  good  behavior.     But  such  a  condition  of  public  affairs  and  such  voidness 
of  private  character  is  possible  only,  when  a  pantheistic  world-theory  holds  sway  over  ^ism  *'^''""  ""^  *^^^^"*' 
the  mind,  a  view  of  life  which  prefers  natural  generalness  to  any  assertion  of  per- 
sonality and  to  the  ideas  of  human  dignity  and  liberty.    Hence  it  is  that  despotism 
will  always  favor  pantheism.  The  consequence  of  such  all-the-sameness  is  that  indif- 
ference and  tolerance  prevailing  in  China,  which  on  that  account  is  extolled  by  mod-  chfnwe cEe'*"" 
em  agnostics. 

It  is  there  as  in  every  other  case,  wherever  religion  is  deemed  identical  with,  and 
in  fact  secularised  as,  the  oflBcial  state-religion  for  the  purpose  of  holding  the  empire 
together;  wherever  a  system  of  intellectualism  far  above  the  mental  horizon  of  the  "un- 
privileged" classes  is  operated  to  the  end  of  keeping  them  in  superstitious  fear,  igno-  jjeü-ion  render- 
ranee  and  subjection,  that  both,  religion  and  intellectual  promiaence  will  be  identified  and  ed  into  mere  in- 
hated  as  means  of  oppression.     Such  state'churchism  may  make  it  easy  for  the  ruler  and  his  ?,fdiffe^eit^de1™'creat. 
courtiers  to  keep  the  subjects  from  disturbing  the  rounds  of  high  life,  and  it  may  spare  the  Iti  ends?"'  *"'  ^°''*'' 
subjects  the  annoyances  connected  with  fighting  the  bad,  so  that  the  lower,  unthinking  ^  ^** 

classes  may  become  reconciled  to  their  condition  on  that  account,  and  subject  to  the 
cold,  heartless  rationalism  regulating  their  social  relations.    The  poor  will,  neverthe- 
less, feel  the  oppression  and  surmise  that  the  "educated"  operate  religion  so  methodically,  just  lowe^cLsses  as  means 
in  order  to  deprive  them  of  every  chance  of  becoming  educated,  to  withhold  from  them  the  f i?2/,  sij'Is^ösree,  72. 
means  of  elevating  and  emancipating  themselves. 

The  fruits  of  a  culture  as  that  of  China  become  apparent  wherever  the  religion  is  al-  j,,.^;^^  „^  ^  lacquercui- 
lowed  to  become  a  tool  of  such  as  thirst  for  power  over  the  minds  of  the  masses.  *"'^^'  dissimulation. 
They  consist  in  a  simulated  submissiveness  and  calculating  politeness,  and  a  sullen 
servility.    No  sympathy  all  around,  no  cordiality,  but  knavish  trickery  and  petty  in-  Heartiessness. 
trigues  everywhere.    Thus  the  poor,  oppressed  and  stultified,  nevertheless,  imitate 
the  rich  in  holding  religious  and  intellectual  repose  for  the  same  thing;     and  because  ^  .^  intellectual  ism 
this  is  f  ashionable,the  poor  learn  from  the  example  of  those"successful  in  lif e",to  treat 
religion  with  equal  indifference,  with  that  unconcern,  which  the  pantheistical  all-the- 
sameness  deserves.    This  stoic  callousness  is  made  a  great  national  virtue,  is  held  up  Religious  callousness. 
even  by  some  Europeans  as  the  pattern  of  tolerance.    It  suits  everybody,  since  under 
it  everybody  may  pretend  to  have  religion,  whilst  in  fact  nobody  needs  to  have  any  as 
a  mark  of  good  standing.    Nobody  bothers  himself  about  religion  or  intellectualism, 
for  everybody  dislikes  to  be  molested  by  the  obligation  to  resist  the  bad.  Rather 
endure  the  loss  of  liberty,  but  let  us  have  peace,  peace  by  all  means— for  it  is  very  loss  of  manliness: 

*^  "^  afraid  to  provoke  the 

dangerous  to  provoke  the  bad.  Bad. 

Thus  cowardice  and  absence  of  manliness  is  considered  wise  and  virtuous.    To  p^ü^y  ^^  expediency  in. 
act  upon  principle  is  foolish  where  one  may  accomodate  himself  to  the  diplomacy  of  pandSeT."""  "'^°'' 
expediency. 

China  is  worldly  wise  indeed:  No  talk  about  sin,  no  mention  of  depravity— but 
plenty  of  tolerance,  and  allowances,  and  endurance,  and  an  abundance  of  modes  and 
ways   to  adjust   oneself    to   circumstances  with  studied   circumstantiality   and  fepentenc^e'!"*^'''^'"* 

evasiveness.  Dangers  of  identifying 

If  such  a  dry  rot  befalls  a  nation,  which  under  the  rounds  of  everyday  conventionalities  intellectualism  with  re- 
is  still  pursuaded  to  believe  itself  a  free  nation,  notwithstanding  the  sufferings  of  the  largest  §  ^"'ib,  n,  15,  40, 57, 6«, 
part,  then  that  part  will  not  for  ever  remain  in  sullen  endurance ;  not  even  among  the  Mongo-  '^'^'  ^^• 
lians.    The  oppressed  part  will,  as  the  first  thing,  throw  religion  aside,  because  it  is  held  to  be  .  ^      .           -n  h  t« 
identical  with  mere  smartness  in  the  use  of  God  as  a  means  of  oppression,  which  such  a  re-  religion  along  with  all 
ligion  really  is.     The  lower  class  will  bate  the  prominent,   the  people  of  the  higher  class,  be-  erfori^y"'^'  °'*''*^'  ^''^ 
cause  of  their  refinement,  education,  and  mental  superiority— and  it  will  hate  religion  in  the  8  15,  24,  46,  49, 54, 55, 
bargain.  For,  after  the  fashion  of  the  "prominent"  who  made  intellectualism  and  rationalism  >    '     >     • 
identical  with  religion,  all  have  forgotten  to  discriminate  the  ingredients  of  that,  "porridge!' 


136  INDO-GERMANIC  NATIONS.  11.  A.  Ch.  Xu.  §  56. 

Reiigioo»  indiscrimina-  of  Confu-tse,  or  have  lost  the  standard  for  valuing  the  ring  of  "Nathan  the  Wise."  Thus  pan- 
öon-  atheistical  despotism,  treating  a  large  part  of  a  nation  as  mere  natural  force,  so  as  to  render 

Sympathy  a  luxury. '  *  sympathy  an  Unnecessary  luxury,  must  expect  this  natural  force  to  explode  at  some  time 
f^rce^w^ch'now  aod**  without  mercy.  It  did  so  repeatedly  in  China,  where  anarchy  and  despotism  change  off  at 
then  explodes  in  regular  intervals. 

Fundamental  error  in  The  fundamental  and  fatal  error  in  Mongolian  or  any  other  pantheism  is  that  it 

th^ryT^thl'^-Br -'f.'  does  not  own  up  to  the  bad.    Prerequisite  to  a  true  view  of,  and  honest  walk  in,  life  is 

notacknowiedged^^^^  ^jjg  decisivo  breaking  wlth  affected  childish  naivete,  and  with  a  boyish  view  of  the 

,  ,    '  world  and  of  self.    This  is  brought  about  in  no  other  way  but  by  confession  of  sin, 

C»uses  of  clannishness,  °  ^  ^  » 

iSiMncÄfd  blr^""^  which  not  as  yet  has  been  accomplished  in  the  sphere  of  pantheism.    To  be  sure, 
8  ^^.  sacrifices  are  made  there  as  everywhere;  but  they  generally  originate  in  fear;  in  rare 
cases  they  are  made  from  sympathy,  and  never  from  the  motive  really  required. 

The  deep  ethnico-religious  substratum  of  arrested  culture  and  confined  life  with 
its  clannishness,  narrow-mindedness  and  self  conceit,  notwithstanding  its  age,  its 
wealth,  and  its  sway— lies  now  open  before  us.  It  is  precisely  analogous  to  the  low 
stratum  of  compressed  life  in  geology.  Above  and  beyond  it  there  developed  a  layer 
of  more  concentric  and  more  personal,  altho  less  consolidated  national  life  from 
which  a  less  expansive  but  clearly  definable  history  grew  up,  which  shall  be  ex- 
amined in  the  second  circle  of  nations. 
Substratum  of  Western  ^^  *^®  ^^^  uatious  of  eastem  aud  uorthem  Asia  that  substratum  is  lying  bara  up- 
Aryanand^  30  38 195  ^^  ^^®  surfaco  to  thls  day.  Wlthout  any  culture  to  speak  of,  almost  in  its  prehistoric 
condition,  it  covers  a  wide  expanse  upon  the  surface  of  the  globe.  Only  now  and  then 
§  *4, «.  did  terrible  forces  from  this  substratum  break  through  the  second  layer  of  historical 
nations  affecting  humanity  like  a  discharge  of  an  electric  current.  They  broke 
forth  like  the  basalts  belched  forth  from  subterranean  caldrons,  devastated  cultivated 
regions,  and  left  no  traces  but  of  destruction. 


Semitic  culture 


B.  SECOND  DIVISION. 

THE  SECOND  CIRCLE  OF  NATIONS:    ARYANS  (INDO  GERMANS.) 

SYLLABUS. 

Aryans.  We'  approach  to  historic  times  and  a  rich  display  of  polarities.    The  fan-shaped 

.  ,reece    -  ers  a . :  territory  over  which  Mongolian  life  had  ramified,  is  still  present  in  our  minds:  handle 


in  Malayan  Oceania;  east- wing  embracing  Peru,  Mexico,  Alaska,  Japan,  Tibet;  west- 


Harathon    :   Bactra 
Ba- 
bylon, 

saTem,  *'"'"'  wlug  the  steppes  from  the  Altai  to  the  Baltic.  The  foundation  being  outlined  ethno- 
Cushito-Semites.  logically  we  are  now  privileged  to  look  at  the  superstructure  of  a  new  and  closed 
circle  of  nations  reared  upon  the  natural  basis  of  the  first.    Returning  home  to  our 
own,  the  Aryan  family,  relieves  us  of  contemplating  the  melancholy  scenes  of  Mon- 
golian life. 

Standing  again,  with  Schlagintweit,  upon  the  heights  of  their  old  home,  our  eyes 
Second  circle;  Nations  follow  the  movemeuts  of  our  blue-eyed  and  blond  ancestors,  through  the  western  gate 
bwu  of"the"flrsl  "**"'*  of  the  Pamir,  down  the  venturous  inclines.  For  we  hav«  become  ever  more  convinced 
of'^'the  Aryan  family'!""'*'  «^  »ur  supposltlou  belug  a  fact,  that  the  native  home  of  the  Indo-Germans  is  the 
Pamir-region«,  Pamir  reglou. 

Altho  Pamir  is  a  Turco-Tataric  term  signifying  a  wilderness,  we  take  the  name  in  its 
wider  meaning,  as  that  plateau  about  as  high  above  sea  level  as  Mt.  Shasta,  and  about  as  large 
as  the  states  of  New  York,  Pennsylvania  and  Ohio  put  together,  with  New  Jersey  and  Delaware 
thrown  in.  We  take  the  name  as  ascribed  to  that  territory  which  forms  the  head-water  dis- 
trict of  the  rivers  of  Tatary  (the  two  Turkestans).  The  only  eastern  river  spoken  of  by  the 
classic  ancients  (who  well  knew  the  western— the  Oxus  and  Yaxartes)  is  the  Oecharies  or 
"Drmff    »•  I  k  Imaum  extra.     All  that  was  known  was  that  this  river  flowed  through  the  Cassia  region, 

Biomnra.       *'  from  whence  Kephrit  and  other  fine  things  were  gotten,  and  where  the  "silk  road"  used  to  be 

*52.  frequented  in  the  times  of  Tacitus.  Our  maps  include  the  "great  Karakul"  or  Dragon-Lake 
in  the  north,  and  the  small  Karakul  in  the  south  with  this  Pamir  region,  of  which  Biddulph 
said:  "A  cloud  of  mystery  has,  from  time  immemorial  hung  over  this  region  which,  vaguely 
enough,  we  call  Central  Asia".  This  highest  of  all  highlands  was,  after  Marco  Polo's  visit  and 
Ritter's  description,  visited  and  partly  described  by  a  dozen  of  explorers  as  the  center  from 
which  radiate  the  greatest  rivers  and  hugest  mountains. 


n.  B.  Syllabus.         present  inhabitants  of  the  pamir-regions.  137 

Of  late  a  certain  school  has  tried  to  antiquate  our  axiom  that  this  locality  once  inclosed  _    »         ,      v    .  .^ 

-       .  ^.  I.     ^  ^1        1    i      ,    .  .  ,  Controyersies   about  the 

the  fountain-head  of  all  the  streams  of  migration ;  but  the  latest  investigations  on  the  spot  descent  of  the  Aryans, 
abundantly  vindicate  it.    As  late  as  fifteen  years  ago  Latham,  Bonfrey,  and  Otto  Schrader  s^,Ira"er^°"*"' 
disputed  the  immigration  of  the  Aryans  from  Asia.    Justi  and  Penka  attempted  to  prove  that  Justi,  Penk». 
Scandinavia  was  their  native  home.    The  latter's  only  trouble  was  that  he  could  give  no  rea-  j^^^  scmowr. 
son  for  his  hypothesis  of  the  change  in  the  color  of  the  skin  by  the  ozone  in  the  atmosphere. 
John  Schmidt  lectured  1890  in  Berlin  on  the  problem  from  the  aspect  of  comparative  philology.  ^'"• 
He  "joined  with  the  generally  adopted  opinion  altho  it  lacked  sufiELcient  scientific  proof."    In 
1891  Fick  wrote  to  RochoU  that  he  had  been  successful  in  his  researches,  to  some  extent,  west  of 
Scandinavia  and  in  the  regions  of  the  southern  Ural  in  order  to  "ascertain  the  earliest  seats 
of  theGermans,"New  proofs  have  since  been  discovered  which  point  to  the  upper  regions  of  the 
Oxus  and  Yaxartes,  the  modern  Ami-darja  and  Syr-darja.  He  admits  thaf'under  this  supposi- 
tion the  problem  of  the  distribution  of  the  races  receives  the  approximately  most  correct  solu- 
tion, since  there,  up  to  the  present  time,  the  yellow  and  the  white  races  live  as  nearest  neigh- 
bors; and  since  many  of  the  Western  Asiatics  bear  a  negro  type  strongly  reminding  us  of 
Herodot's  Ethiopians  of  the  east." 

Tomashek  holds  the  Galtsha,  the  ancient  inhabitants  of  the  Pamir,  to  be  Iranians  be. 
yondadoubt.  They  are  the  most  degraded  of  all  the  peoples  with  blond  hair.  The  Galtsha 
about  the  Zeraf shan  glacier  are  taken  for  Persian  relatives  of  comparatively  lowest  culture 
by  Mushketoff.  And  Prschewalsky  takes  the  aborigines  around  the  Lob- nor  river  for  Aryans. 
He  was, after  Marco  Polo,  the  first  European  who  visited  and  described  them. 

The  latest  proofs  however,  for  the  Central- Asiatic  descendency  of  the  Indo-Germans  rjmusat. 
have  been  furnished  by  the  Yenisei  inscriptions.    As  early  as  1835  Abel  Bemusat  gave  a  report  Yenisei -imcriptiorui. 
of  their  discovery,  and  found  the  characters— so  Tychsen  remarks— much  like  those  which  the 
*'old  inhabitants  of  Prussia"  used  as  their  marks.  Donner  as  late  as  four  years  ago  presented 
the  Congress  of  Orientalists  with  33  inscriptions,  all  from  the  upper  Yenisei  regions,  explored  ttchsen;  DounsbKeoh»- 
by  him  and  Krohn,  which  he  declared  to  be  of  pre-Mongolian  origin.    The  "Zeitschrift  fuer  32  other' inscriptions 
Ethnologie",  Berlin  1889,  is  of  the  opinion  that  these  inscriptions  were  made  by  people  with  Pre-MongoUan. '*'' 
Turkish  language,  but  that  they  were  to  be  considered  as  of  Indo-German   stock.     Above  alh  Jwanowsky,  Richthofkh, 
however,  Iwanowsky  found  similar  inscriptions  near  the  lake  Issik-Kul,  south  of  the  Altai,  so  objection  äs  to  climate 
that  Richthofen  avers  it  tobe  a  plain  fact,  that  in  Central- Asia  the  Iranians  and  Turanians ''°°^'*'**°''*  *^^  ^*™''* 
lived  in  close  proximity.  The  question,  whether  the  high  and  dry  steppes  could  possibly  be  the 
fatherland  of  those  people,  he  solves  by  proving  the  decline  of   water  in  the  Arabic-Caspian 
lowlands.    Jadrinzew  demonstrates  that  there  since  1786  no  less  than  300  lakes  have  dried  up. 

Wheresoever  the  origin  of  the  Aryans  may  be  located,  it  suffices  that  they  are  here, 
and  are  recognised  on  all  sides  as  a  very  distinguished  and  select  branch  of  the  hu- 
man family.    We  once  more  muster  the  several  members. 

From  the  Ganges  to  the  Boyne  we  find  descendants  of  a  people  who  once  spoke 
the  same  language— Sanskrit,  demanding  our  consideration  first  as  the  language  of 
the  Veda.  Then  there  are  the  Iranians,  speaking  the  Zend  in  which  Zoroasterians 
wrote  the  Avesta,  and  in  which  the  old  Elamite  cuneiform  inscriptions  of  Turanian 
origin  again  speak  to  us.  Next  in  importance  are  the  Scythians,  the  Slavs,  Baltic 
andLevantic  tribes  ;  Albanese,  Phrygians,  Armenians  ;  then  the  Graeco-Italians  ;Hum- 
brians,  Sabines,  Latins  ;  the  Celts ;  Ibernians,  Gauls,  Britons,  Culdeans ;  and  finally 
the  Germans  with  their  many  sub-divisions,  including  the  Goths,  Vandals,  Anglo-Sax- 
ons, and  Normans— the  ancestors  of  Spain's  Hidalgo  nobility. 

Fick's  new  Indo-German  dictionary  enumerates  twelve  main  stems  of  lingual 
relationship.    This  is  sufficient  for  our  purpose. 

As  we  found  the  Mongolo-Malayan  groups  of  the  Turanian  family  in  two  distinct  Members  o«  the  Aryan 
camps,  so,  looking  down  from  the  old  Paramabiso,  we  find  the  Aryans  divided  into  hinÜ^elamitk 
southern  and  northern  parties.    Without  any  artificial  construction  the  nature  of  our  ix«  bI^c^b^xX'Stho» 
second  circle  is  given  by  the  separation  between  the  Iranians  and  Hindoos.    For,  in  upo^rtie^axTs 
accordance  with  the  age  and  importance  of  their  culture,  we  have  to  deal  with  them  Benares-Rome. 
first,  following  up  and  closing  the  ranks  with  the  Greeks  and  Romans,  (in  the  next 
division).    The  first  pair  form  now  the  right,  the  latter  the  left  wing.    The  basis  of 
operation  for  the  interior  parties  of  the  two  pairs  is  Bactra-Marathon;  for  the  ex- 
treme pairs  Benares-Rome. 

CH.I.    ORIENTAL  ARYANS:  RIGHT  WING;    I.  SOUTHERN  PART- HINDOO. 

§  57.    Much  speaks  in  favor  of  the  supposition  that  the  stream  of  the  Aryan  mi-  FicKsindo-German 
gration,soon  after  the  departure  from  Central  Asia,  split  in  two  branches  on  striking  "t«™?  of  nAgui 
the  western  walls  of  the  plateau  of  Iran.    After  some  stay,  which  is  definitely  indi-  '''^**"""  ^' 
cated  and  may  have  lasted  for  centuries,  perhaps,  religious  animosities  caused  one 
branch  to  pull  stake  at  once,  and  to  take  the  course  of  the  Indus  valley  to  the  south, 
whilst  the  other  branch  gradually  flowed  off  westward  to  the  Caucasus  and  to  Europe. 


138 


HINDOOS  IMMIGRATING  INTO  INDU. 


n.  B.  Ch.  I.  §  57. 


Aryans  separate; 
Hindoos  from  Iranians. 
«9. 

Rig-veda 

Worship 

in  free  air. 


h-e-occupants  of  India. 
Hero-worship : 
mythology. 


ir,the  plough:  Aryans. 


Process  of  degradation. 

Kapila  philosophises. 

Brahmins    forbid  the 
warriors  to  approach  the 
Gods  directly,  without 
priestly  intercession. 

Liturgic&l  form  of  wor- 
ship. 


Hindoo  form  of  consci- 
ousness and  its  effects. 


Personality  absorbed  by 
generalness  of  natural 
life. 

No  longer  the  Heroism  of 
the  times  of  the  Mahab- 
haradha. 


On  Hindoo  character: 

Oldenbkbo, 

Heoil, 

M.  MuiLUU. 


Sanskrit  literature  re- 
veals 15  centuries  of  life 
born  under  pains  of  re- 
ligious    misunderstand- 
ings. 

§59. 


Ponr  periods  of  Hindoo 
national  life- 


With  a  high  degree  of  certainty  it  may  be  computed  that  it  was  about  Abraham's 
time  (ca.  2200  B.  C.\  when  the  East- Aryans  separated  from  their  kindred  who  partly 
remained  in  Iran  and  partly  followed  the  others,  by  way  of  Kabul,  down  to  the 
Punjab.  In  their  youthful  vigor,  ingenuous  and  impulsive,  inspired  by  their  new  and 
pleasant  surroundings,  they  sang  those  hymns  under  the  free  canopy  of  heaven  which 
were  centuries  later  collected  in  the  Rig-Veda.  Shortly  after  the  time  of  Moses  (ca. 
1500  B.C.)  swarms  of  them  pushed  on  and  fought  their  way  toward  the  Ganges,  accom- 
plishing such  exploits,  as  in  their  national  epic  were  composed  into  the  myths  of 
hero-worship.  They  found  the  south  occupied  by  settlers  who  had  already  exchanged 
merchandise  with  Egypt  in  queen  Hatasu's  time,  the  Dravida,  who  were  driven  aside 
or  made  to  serve.  In  a  comparatively  short  period  the  large  peninsula  was  in  their 
possession,  and  by  them  cultivated  with  their  "ar"  or  plough,— for  these  "Ar"-yans  were 
agriculturists  par  excellence,  as  the  root  of  their  name  implies.  As  such  they  de- 
pended upon  the  kind  heavens,  and  became  a  pensive  and  peaceful  people.  The 
thrifty,  sultry  climate  of  the  tropics,  however,  on  the  one  hand,  and  the  want  of 
communication  with  other  nations  on  the  other,  caused  the  Hindoos  to  sink  into  that 
dreamy  lethargy,  which  paralyzed  their  energy,  and  made  the  simple-hearted  and 
goodnatured  peasants  submit  to  the  craftiness  of  the  priests  with  their  thirst  for 
power. 

The  decadence  began  at  the  time  when  the  priests  argued  that  warriors  did  not  dare  to 
approach  the  gods ;  when  Kapila  philosophised  upon  the  superiluousness  of  priestly  inter- 
cession and  liturg'ies ;  when  the  Brahmins  forbade  the  reading  of  the  Rig-veda ;  and  when  the 
stupefied  nation  permitted  their  sense  of  liberty  to  be  stifled  and  their  idea  of  personality  to  be 
filched.  Given  to  idealistic  yearnings  and  meditation  in  the  embrace  of  blissful  surroundings, 
they  came,  besides  being  under  the  rule  of  the  priestly  caste,  also  under  the  seducing  influ- 
ences of  a  rich  nature  and  into  the  dangers  of  wealth.  Through  neglect  of  normal  exercise,  so 
essential  in  the  recuperation  of  strength,  the  body  becomes  languid  and  the  mind  lulled  into  a 
state  of  phantastic  phlegm,  a  form  of  soul-life  which  we  chose  to  call  nature-bound.  The  soul 
is  cradled  into  placid  sleep,  rocked  as  in  a  boat  that  leisurely  drifts  upon  the  waves  of 
natural  things— among  the  lotus  in  stagnant  waters.  The  soft  breeze  swaying  the  boat  of  life 
lulls  the  mind  into  ease  and  passiveness,  into  that  faint-heartedness,  which  is  ever  afraid  of 
coming  to  grief  or  into  trouble.  In  that  semi-consciousness  of  a  doze,  the  mode  of  thought 
becomes  habitually  natural  instead  of  personal.  As  upon  an  external  touch  or  sound  a  series 
of  kaleidoscopic  images  is  called  forth  in  the  drowsy  soul  as  it  continues  for  a  while  in  invol- 
untary oscillations— so  it  happened,  that  nature  spontaneously  worked  itself  into  possession 
of  the  spirit  of  the  Hindoo  nation.  Its  thought  and  poetry  is  the  efiPect  of  the  phantastic  play 
of  an  imagery  enchanted  by  nature.  Such  are  always  the  effects  of  a  pantheistic  view  of 
the  world— absorption  of  the  personality  by  generalness,  a  nebulous  dissolving  of  both,  spiritual 
oneness  and  physical  manifold,  into  each  other.  Thus  the  strength  of  any  nation  will  nec- 
essarily fail  and  fi^nally  vanish.  Such  rock-  and  stone-temples  as  of  old,  the  Hindoos  no 
longer  were  able  to  build;  such  feats  of  valour,  as  are  praised  in  the  war  stories  of  the  Mahab- 
haradha  could  be  no  longer  accomplished  by  people  so  effeminate.  This  decline  is  not  caused 
by  the  contrast  of  classes  and  castes,  but  by  the  loss  of  personality  and  freedom.  Castes  are 
but  the  result  of  abandoning  the  idea  of  personality  in  exchange  for  a  mystical,  hazy  trans- 
cendentalism. "The  idea  of  liberty",  says  Oldenberg  in  concluding  his  observations,  "with  its 
either  reviving  or  destroying  tendencies  has  never  been  recognised  in  India.  If  one  even 
had  thought  and  told  of  it,  the  stupefied  mass  could  not  have  been  made  to  understand  it.'* 
The  peculiarities  of  the  Hindoo-character  and  the  causes  leading  to  it,  can  be  portrayed  no 
better  than  has  been  done  by  Hegel  and  M.  Mueller.  With  Hegel  the  preference  for  their  mode 
of  thought  took  even  the  shape  of  personal  partiality  on  account  of  the  similitude  of  Hindoo 
philosophy  with  his  own.  With  M.  Mueller  it  was  an  act  of  humaneness  to  tell  the  British 
"what  India  can  teach  us",  namely,  that  their  new  subjects  are  not  only  human,  but  very 
amiable  beings. 

Sanskrit  literature  reveals  a  history  of  fifteen  centuries  of  Aryan  national  life 
To  all  appearances  this  national  life  was  born  under  the  pains  of  religious  misunder- 
standings, and  the  three  turns  which  it  took  in  its  unbroken  course,  are  also  to  be 
ascribed  to  religious  differentiations.  During  the  first  period,  beginning  about  1880 
B.  C.  the  religion  of  the  Vedas  is  degenerating  from  traditional  teaching  to  symbol- 
ism and  ritualism.  As  yet  the  deities  or  deva  are  called  eternal.  They  see  the  Good 
and  the  Bad. 

They  are  the  creators,  the  greatest  of  the  gods ;  Varuna,  Indra,  Mitra,  among  others  ar« 
conceived  as  under  suzerainty  of  the  Being  One,  the  king  of  heaven.  This  coordination  with* 
out  a  tr^ce  of  priority  or  descendancy  has  led  to  the  opinion,  that  the  trimurti  was  but  th© 
name  for  the  identity  of  the  gods,  that  is,  for  the  monotheistic  recollections  which  stood  back 
of  it.  In  a  passage  quoted  from  one  of  the  oldest  hymns  of  the  first  rig  this  cognition  seems 
to  be  expressed  with  sufficient  clearness,  when  it  is  said  that  "they  call  Him  Indra,  Mitra, 


n.  B.  CH.  I.  §  57.  PERIODS  OF  DEGRADATION.  139 

Varuna,  Agni".     On  the  strength  of  such  plain  indications  we  are  justified  in  taking  the  1.  Period: 
pristine  monotheism  of  the  Hindoos  as  a  historical  fact.    They  only  gave  different  names  to  Rig-veda, 
the  same  personal  spirit  according  to  different  localities  or  to  variable  manifestations  of  his        Devas  eternal.' 
power— in  a  manner  much  like  that  which  Brugsch  explained  as  the  esoteric  theology  of  the  Mokotheistic. 

ar„vT^fioT,o  Original  monotheism  of 

iSigyptians.  the  Hindoos  a  historical 

Of  more  importance  than  the  monotheistic  background  in  Hindooism  is  to  us  at  **<=* 
present,  the  undeniable  fact  that  at  this  period  an  earnest  acknowledgment  of  sin  is 
manifest,  of  which  we  remarked,  that  it  is  silently  passed  over  by  every  pantheistic 
theory.    In  the  prayers  to  Varuna  (Uranus)  we  hear  supplications  like  these:    "Judge 
us  as  being  acquitted  from  the  sins  of  our  fathers  and  of  those  committed  by  ourselves 
with  our  own  bodies".    To  be  sure,  the  petitioner  makes  an  addition  in  which  we  detect 
an  expression  of  something  more  true  than  a  mere  self-absolution  or  a  shifting  of  re-  S^ofAZ'S  «i« 
sponsibity,  even  more  than  an  acknowledgment  of  the  necessity  of  expiation.    We  "«'^««sity  of  expiat^n^^ 
find  somewhat  of  the  remembrance  that  the  human  being  consists  of  more  than  a  Recollections  of  mans 
physical  organism,  when  they  add:  "It  was  not  our  own  doing,  it  happened  involun-  physical  part. 
tarily.    It  was  a  venomous  draught,  it  was  a  passion,  it  was  fate."  Rigs  quoted. 

Then  the  second  period  is  entered  as  demarcated  in  M.  Mueller's  description  of  it:  2.  Period: 
the  Indra-period,  beginning  at  about  1400  B.C.    Taruna  is  now  less  esteemed  than  Free  player  comes  out  of 
Indra.    Composition  of  hymns  slackens;  personal  deity  subsides;  free  prayer  is  no  PrLtiy  intercession. 
longer  made;  Brahmins  assume  the  office  of  mediators  between  the  deity  and  the  polytheistic. 
sinner;  religion  and  sacred  writings  become  formulated  and  are  prescribed;  worship  ^*"=*"'**^  esoteric. 
turns  into  ritualism  with  its  symbolic  performances;  and  the  doctrines  become  PJSousness  °"^''"'* 
esoteric.  « ^^5-  ^^-  "5- 

The  gods,  the  "shining  ones"  are  conceived  as  apart  from  each  other.      They  are 
also  severed  from  the  world,  notwithstanding  their  being  considered  as  essential  per-  Phases  of  natural  uie 
sonifications  of  natural  elements  and  forces.    The  divine  attributes  are  dragged  into  p^''"""'^**- 
that  form  of  consciousness  which  is  diverted  by  the  manifold  in  nature.    From  below  fr"om  toeTubÄ^!' 
ancestor-worship  strikes  through;  the  religion  of  the  Veda  becomes  infected  with  the 
polluted  traditions  of  darkness  and  superstitious  dread. 

The  mixture  of  both  suits  the  Brahmins  because  it  facilitates  the  establishment  of  hier- 
archical supremacy.    The  lower  and  weaker  people  are  to  be  kept  in  ignorance ;  and  in  order  Yoka  reform : 
to  curb  their  aspirations  toward  humane  forms  of  existence,  and  to  check  the  promulgation  Mystico-theistical. 
of  such  views  of  life  as  the  theistic  Yoka  and  the  ethico-mysticalBaghavad-Gita  teach,  they  Ethi^ai.'^ 
ARE  FORBIDDEN  TO  READ  THE  SCRIPTURES.     Priests  Separate  themselves  from  warriors,  castes 
are  in  their  incipiency ;  society   begins  to  desintegrate  in  keeping  with  the  doctrines,  which 
desintegrate  the  nature  of  the  deity  and  separate  the  gods.    Under  the  oppression  thus  ensu- 
ing the  spiritual  wants  are  felt  the  more  keenly,  and  an  anti-hierarchal  tendency  manifests 
itself  in  mysticism,  which  teaches  direct  communication  with  the  gods  without  the  interf er-  prohibited.*  ^"'^  ^^^ 
ence  of  the  intermeddling  priests.    The  religious  sense  is  quickened  and  becomes  intensified ; 
the  mind  strives  for  liberation.     Everybody  learns  to  read,  whereby  the  people  break  away  evm  ''^ethica?°thinldng, 
from  priestly  rule.     In  the  meanwhile  the  theologians,  in  order  to  head  off  the  danger  of 
disestablishment  of  the  religious  organisation,  by  what  they  scurrilously  call  the  "mystical  tl^eoretical  pan- 
innovation,"  accommodate  their  doctrine  to  it  nevertheless,  and  conclude  a  truce  by  making  theism 
a  compromise  with  philosophy.     They  invent  a  method  of  communion  with  their  abstract  sophy*""''**  "^'^^  ^^"^ 
godhead  in  which  the  deity  needs  to  be  naturalised  and  nature  deified. 

With  M.  Mueller  as  a  guide  we  proceed  into  this  tliird  period  of  Brahmanism  asush-  3.  Period:] 
ered  in  by  the  caste  of  divines  at  the  time  when  Solomon  built  the  temple,  about  1000  Sf  ^iJiSiised  world- 
B.C.     Brahama  is  the  name  for  the  materialised  world-soul  Atma,  or  Purusha,  or  soui Atma or choda. 
Choda;  and  his  religion  is  taken  care  of  by  his  life  guard,  so  to  say.    The  concept  of 
the  Brahma  is  so  ingeniously  framed  as  to  yield  all  possible  explanations  of  the  one 
as  well  as  the  manifold,  of  the  union  between  life  and  matter,  of  the  fusion  of  the 
good  and  the  bad.    All  is  called  good  that  conforms  with  the  code  of  rituals,  that  B^^hma  invented  to 
the  Brahmin  sanctions,  that  furthers  his  interest.     Nothing  is  considered  as  a  crime  '=^*'=^  ''*'"^^  polytheism. 
but  the  neglect  of,  or  a  mistake  in,  the  rituals.    And  these  ceremonials  are  for  the 
lower  classes  who  cannot  and  dare  not  participate  in  philosophising  with  the  "shin- 
ing ones".    In  Brahma  God  is  no  longer  conceived  as  supermundane.    It  is  only  ex- 
pected that  by  the  service  of  Brahma,  instituted  with  this  intent,  the  multiform  wor-  Deity  made  a  means  to 
ship  of  the  manifold  in  natural  objects  may  be  held  in  check.    And  thus,  instead  of  pS-c^tef '  *'^  ^''^ 
men  serving  God,  He,  under  appellations  other  than  Brahma  even,  is  made  a  tool  to  ^^^ 

serve  this  or  that  end.  And  in  the  meantime  the  degradation  of  religion  into  crude 
polytheism  goes  on  rapidly  among  the  lower  classes,  whilst  the  growth  of  barbarism 
is  connived  at  by  the  higher. 

12 


140 


HINDOO— SECTABIAM^. 


n.  B.  Ch.  §  57. 


Pantheism  a  compromise 
between  coarse  supersti- 
tion and  esoteric  specu- 
lation. 


to  justify  intellectual- 
ism  in  its  compromise 
with  superstitious  ab- 
surdities; 


Religion  rationalised. 
«11,  15,22,24,47,48,55, 
56,  58,  66,  68,  72,  95—98, 
170,  185- 


Choda-Nirvana  a  sort  of 
identity  philosophy. 


Agnosticism  ends  with 
annihilation ; 


by  way  of  religions  in- 
difference. 

Personality  of  God  once 
forgotten,  that  of  man 
Is  soon  destroyed. 

Pantheism  the  prere- 
quisite of  oppression. 
§  15,  20,  49,  55,  56,  58,  66, 
68,72,  78,  89,  97,  98,  170, 
185. 

Traces  of  subjective 
piety  in 

mysticism, 

which  associates  with 

scepticismi 

in  opposing  priestly 
arrogance. 


Baghavad-Gite. 
Subjectivism. 


4.     Sutra-period. 
Sectarianism. 

Dogmatism. 
Mystic  asceticism. 
Legal  moralism.  , 

Indifference  to 
intellectualism. 
Presentiments  of 
immortality  grasp  at 
ancestor  -  worship  of  the 
substratum. 

Vulgar 
polytheism. 

Dissolution   of   religious 

ideas;  cyclical 

coincident. 

8  62,  76, 124,   )27,  133, 

etc. 

Three  chief  systems  to 

which  the  sects  are  to  be 

reduced : 

Old 

Yoga: 

theistic  ethical 

Nyaja: 

ratfonnlistlc  moralism. 

Buddhism 

of  Gautama, 

the  Lankhyamunl, 

made  state  religion  by 

AsocA. 

Atom  ism — kanada. 

Mon  Ism — Vedanta : 

oneness  of  Atma  and  the 

soul. 

Sankhya : 

Dualism-Prakritl: 

Metempsychosis. 


The  Brahmin  Identity-Philosophy  sets  up  Brahma  as  the  thought;  that  is, 
thought  in  its  reaction  against  polytheistical  absurdities,  in  order  —not  to  relieve  the 
harrassed  soul,  but-to  justify  intellectualism  in  its  compromise  with  these  absurdi- 
ties. It  is  the  attempt  of  thought  to  unite  the  totality  of  the  natural  element  into  a 
somewhat  consistent  concept;  to  personify  philosophical  abstractions;  to  explain  the 
immanency  of  nature  in  God.  Any  idea  going  beyond  and  above  this  apperception  of 
an  immanent  infinity,  anything  incompatible  with  the  elaborately  wrought  figure  of 
a  world-god,  is  Choda  at  one  pole  and  Nirwana  on  the  other.  This  all-surpassing 
mode  of  being  is  obtainable  for  such  a  mind  only  which  abandons  itself  to  an  all- 
absorptive  brooding;  to  any  other  it  remains  completely  hidden  and  unknowable. 
Annihilation  is  thus  made  the  highest  stage  and  aim  of  agnosticism,  which  may  be 
defined  as  the  compromise  between  knowing  nothing  and  that  indifference  to  which 
no  designation  seems  to  be  more  appropriate  than  our  term:  all-the-sameness. 

To  the  Brahmin  the  personality  of  the  deity  or  the  reality  of  his  abstraction  becomes 
irrelevant,  and  the  idea  of  human  personality  is  blurred  if  not  altogether  lost  along  with  that 
of  God.  The  priest  wants  the  people  to  become  indifferent  to  all  else  beside  him  and  to  waive 
the  exercise  of  their  own  wills  to  the  authority  of  his  drill,  under  which  they  are  enured  to 
be  led  like  a  flock  of  sheep.  The  people  must  be  turned  into  noughts,  so  that  the  priest,  the 
figure  put  before  them,  may  count  the  more.  Hence  he  does  not  want  the  people  to  obtain 
any  certitude  as  to  their  inner  life,  for  this  would  arouse  scepticism  as  to  his  authority.  Yet 
scepticism  and  opposition  could  not  be  evaded  despite  the  compromise.  Philosophical  reflec- 
tion was  imitated  in  the  measure  as  the  intensity  of  absorptive  meditation  and  forced 
thoughtlessness  lost  the  charms  of  a  reverie  in  self-forgetfulness.  An  ethical  tendency,  once 
awakened  by  the  Yoka  and  Sankhja  philosophy,  works  its  way  within  a  few  minds ;  for  a 
stray  conscience  here  and  there  craves  consolation.  Some  take  recourse  to  the  Vedic  form 
of  God-consciousness  and  keep  alive  the  piety  of  the  Baghavad-Gita,  while  others,  for  the  sake 
of  sheer  opposition,  construct  materialistic  systems  upon  identity  premises.  The  result  is 
sectarian  distraction ;  subjectivism  unsettles  the  social  habitude  throughout  the  whole  nation. 

The  state  of  affairs  characterising  the  fourth  or  Sutra°period,  is  plainly  reducible 
to  religious  subjectivism,  sectarian  separatism,  and  unscrupulous  opposition  to 
priestly  arrogancy.  The  reading  of  holy  writs  having  been  forbidden,  and  the 
priests  having  supplanted  the  monotheistic  realism  of  the  Veda  by  the  merely  intel- 
lectual and  sophisticated  dogmatics  of  the  Samaveda:  mysticism,  to  the  increasing 
bewilderment  of  the  ignorant  masses,  had  undermined  hierarchal  formalism,  dog- 
matism, and  legalism.  In  their  indifference  as  to  intellectualism  and  deistical  and 
pantheistical  terminologies,  the  Hindoos  now  try,  on  the  one  hand,  to  find  solace  for 
the  religious  sentiencies  in  either  moralism,  or  anomism,  or  in  asceticism;  whilst 
symbolism,  on  the  other  hand;  i.  e.  the  misdirected  traditions  with  reference  to  the 
mind's  forebodings  of  immortality— make  people  embrace  the  old  ancestor-worship 
which  forces  itself  through  from  below  into  hearts  void  of  any  religious  truth. 
Thus,  in  spite,  if  not  in  consequence  of,  pantheism  the  submergence  into  vulgar 
polytheism  becomes  complete. 

The  Sutra  period  presents  at  least  six  theories  of  philosophic  eclecticism,  from  which 
to  choose  the  material  for  a  self  made  religion ;  any  person  was  left  at  liberty  if  he  had  a 
mind  to  construct  one  for  himself.  Countless  sects  availed  themselves  of  the  opportunity  to 
make  selections.  The  old  Yoga  system  of  the  theistic-mystic-ethical  Bhagvad  Gita  alone 
could  gain  no  popularity,  altho  it  revived  in  prince  Gautama-Buddha.  This  dissoluteness  of 
all  religious  life  began  about  600  B.  C.  It  is  one  of  the  most  remarkable  coincidents,  that 
Gautama's,  the  Sankhjamuni's  great  "reform"  brought  the  Brahministic  dough  to  the 
Buddhistic  fermentation  at  the  very  period,  when  the  religion  of  Israel  was  by  force  carried 
deeper  into  Asia  and  seemed  to  be  doomed  to  succumb  in  the  captivity. 

While  speculative  Buddhism  could  not  succeed  for  two  centuries  in  having  its  doctrines 
canonised  and  whilst  it  was  persecuted  until  king  Asoka  made  it  his  state  religion  and  built 
the  8,000  topes  or  pagodas ;  speculative  gnosticism  attempted  to  explain  material  and  spiritual 
life  by  the  empiric  method  of  renouncing  natural  conditions  of  life.  Gautama's  Nyaja- 
SYSTEM  wanted  to  discern  laws  of  reason  upon  which  to  found  his  moralism— just  like 
Kantianism  of  late— whilst  Kanada  engaged  himself  with  atomism.  The  Yendanta  system 
wanted  to  demonstrate  a  monism  in  the  supposed  oneness  of  the  world's  soul  Brahma-Atma 
with  the  human  soul.  Choda  alone  with  its  realized  end  of  Nirwana  really  exists,  everything 
else  is  but  phenomenon,  phantom,  delusion— is  Maja.  The  Sankhya-SYSTEM  in  opposition  to 
the  Vedanta,  defended  a  dualistic  view  of  life,  or  rather  of  nature.  The  infinite  and  eternal 
oneness  of  nature  is  imagined  to  comprise  a  manifold  of  souls  under  the  categories  of  the 
Prakriti.  The  soul  migrates  through  a  series  of  metamorphoses  until  it  becomes  conscious 
of  being  a  part  of  nature  no  longer,  when,  of  course,  the  necessity  of  the  metempsychosis 
ceases. 


n  B.  CH.  I.  §  57.  HINDOO-NIHILISM.  141 

In  the  confusion  ensuing  morality  was,  like  religion,  transformed  into  a  mere  external  The  world's  soul:  Atma 
conformity  to  maxims,  prescribed  by  the  medley  of  teachings.    This  legalism  seems  to  have 
been  well  adapted  to  the  lower  classes  who  had  taken  refuge  in  tangible  idolatry.    With  a  phenomena  of  real  life 
few  ritualistic  performances  they  were  enabled  to  acquit  themselves  of  the  duties  demanded  only  deiusionsr— Maja. 
by  their  superiors,  who  did  not  care  to  disturb  the  subjects  in  their  idolatry,  lest  the  schools  piggustof  life- 
would  lose  their  popularity  and  adherents.    At  this  stage  of  sectarianism  in  competition  it 
becomes  impossible  for  any  sect  to  carry  out  discipline. 

Thus  the  nation  was  seized  with  disgust  in  matters  of  doctrine  and  with  despair  Nirwana  as  a 
of  ever  learning  the  truth.    The  external  world,  first  taken  as  the  source  of  happi-  Jhe^'metempsy- 
ness,  was  now  looked  upon  with  apathy  as  the  cause  of  all  misery.    Dull  brooding  chosis  of  the 
ended  in  a  philosophy  of   world-soreness    and    hopelessness.      Annihilation  was  p^^®^*^' 
made  desirable,  for  it  saved  men  from  the  dreaded  transmigration  of  the  soul,  from 
the  Brahminic  metempsychosis. 

When  Alexander  the  Great  came  in  contact  with  India  the  Brahmins  had  just  Puiannas-eciecticism.^^ 
accommodated  themselves  to  the  scholasticism  of  the  Purannas  to  check  the  religious 
dissolution.  But  India  was  benumbed  already  by  being  indoctrinated  with  sense- 
delusion,  and  dreamt  under  its  heavy  incubus  of  Maja.  Of  personality  nothing  was 
left  but  a  shadowy  apparition.  Ascetic  selfrenunciation  was  the  highest  virtue. 
Neither  snakes  nor  tigers  were  killed  any  longer,  and  no  meat  eaten;  the  Hindoos  Resume 

°  .»0       7  7  of  the  concomitant 

henceforth  only  vegetated  as  a  nation  of  vegetarians.    Hope  and  the  future  were  f^r^e^of  mi!lid°° 
waning  away  into  Nirwana  and  Nihilism.   Thought  had  been  outraged  and  liberty 
smothered— now  conscience,  too,  receded  and  went  to  sleep. 

Evidently  this  period  was  not  one  of  revival  of  letters  or  of  awakening  of  Jhe  stage™f"the 
thought,  as  Hegel  tried  to  make  us  believe.    It  was  not  the  first  stage  of  the  develop-  awakening  God- 
ment  of  the  "  idea  "  into  God-consciousness,  but  the  arrival  of  a  once  God-praising  thought?^^^^ 
and  wide-awake  nation  of  warriors,  thinkers  and  farmers  at  the  stage  of  spiritual  away^of*^God- 
death  and  dire  abandonment  to  natural  necessity.     The  philosophical  evolution  from  consciousness. 
Brahma  to  Nirwana  in  all  its  conflicting  statements  and  stages  again  proves,  that  An  evolution 
religion  and  culture  decline  together  wherever  the  friends  of  idealistic  speculation,  and  c^S^proSsr 
and  then  those  of  materialistic  reasoning  under  the  name  of  science,  busy  themselves  N5iiii?m^^™^  *^ 
with  religion.    The  results  show  that  whenever  anything    concerning  the  mind   is  ^^ntai  (spiritual) 
identified  with  religion,  at  first  by  the  educated  and  then  by  the  masses  of  the  lower  activity  of  the 
classes,  then  the  latter  begin  to  hold  religious  and  spiritual,  mental  and  moral  life  for  för  spirituality 
the  same  thing,until  finally  they  take  as  religious  all  which  they  do  not  understand,  opp/ei^fd°mi 
and  all  that  is  above  them.  averse  to  both. 

§  11,  15,  16,  22,  47, 
The  Vedanta,  the  encyclopedia  of  Indian  knowledge  in  a  bulk,  prides^  itself  on  having    54,  55,  56,  66,  68,  72, 
detected  that  the  deity  is  the  substance  rather  than  the  source  of  the  world ;  that  the  deity  is      9^'  9''  9^«  1'^'  ^^^' 
even  the  matter  out  of  which  the  universe  emanated»  while  the  mind,  in  turn,  is  conceived  as  Vedanta- 
evolving  out  of  this  hardened  effusion.    But  how  could  a  world  of  consciousness  proceed  out  *"*   "^'^  '*  "^  monism. 
of  an  unconscious  god  or  vice  versa  ?    Nothing  simpler  than  that,  Hindoo  induction  rejoins,  ^htch^thTuntveTsr"™ 
forcasting  Hegel's  idealism  and  Hall's  substantialism.    Hairs  and  nails  of  the  animal  body  are  emanates; 
void  of   sensibility,  tho  they  grow  from  sentient  being.     Is  this  not  analogous  enough  to  ^!onf which  mind""^ 
prove  plainly  that  God  is  the  substance  from  which  nature  emanates  and  that  matter  is  the  evolves. 
substance  from  which  the  mind  evolves?     Hence,  remarks  Baumann  with  all  the  gravity  of  Hegel's  idealism  and 
Hindoo  reason,  "hence  it  is  that  multiplicity  and  corporeality  are  but  delusions.    In  truth  bail's  substantialism 

*v  -J.  X.    •  1        ^^  ^  .1  1  1,  1  ■     !•   ^.  .   t    1.1  1    nothing  new.    Baumaxh. 

there  exists  one  being  only,  the  most  supreme  all-world  s  soul,  an  indistinguishable  and 
indifPerentiated  entity".  Eureka!  The  great  monistic  philosophy  is  established,  rendering 
any  further  trouble  of  research  superfluous.  It  is  more  desirable  not  to  be  at  all,  or  not  to 
know  the  real  world,  than  to  bother  with  dualism  or  even  science,  for  that  matter.  Science 
may  go  to  sleep  as  it  did  in  India  long,  long  ago.    Give  us  poetry,  cries  a  satiated  age,  give  us  f^^'^'^i^y  »*  agnostieism; 

j.1.  iio  1     .       t  ,         ,,  ,.,,,..  =>jc»  imaginary  world. 

the  world  of  novels  to  dream  away  the  silent  worry  over  higher  obligations.  i  58, 146. 

Buddhism  sustained  a  complete  overhauling,  and  when  Buddha's  (in  China  Fohi)  teeth 
and  toes  were  made  relics  and  worshiped,  all  the  philosophical  starch  of  ideality  was  taken 
out  of  it.  Idealism  could  scarcely  be  ascribed  to  the  offerings  of  a  rich  devotee  who,  in  the  15th 
century,  brought  6,480,320  flowers  before  the  shrine  of  the  tooth  in  Ceylon,  a  piece  of  ivory  as 
long  as  the  little  finger. 

This  pantheistical  trend  in  the  minds  of  all  Indo-Germanic  people  shows  itself  in  ^^^gio'^^o^^of  la«) 
its  practical  consequences  only  in  so  far,  as  it  seems  the  peculiarity  of  the  Aryan  char-  '    '127,'  151I 

acter  to  bring  to  reason  that  deep-mindedness  which  wavers  between  feeling  and 
phantasy.    In  Buddhism  it  was  brought  to  the  surface  and  grew  at  random. 

In  the  world  of  the  western  learning  the  Pantheism  of  Buddhism  and  its  fruits  have 
come  to  their  true  estimate  very  gradually  since  1820,  when  Hodgson  sent  the  result  of  his 
studies  in  Sanskrit  literature  from  Nepal  to  Paris— those  works  which  Burnouf  perused  and 


142 

Buddhism 
dismantled. 

§  58,  81,  97, 185, 188. 


Hodgson,  Bübkouf, 

Lassen. 

"  Light  of  Asia." 

A.RIIOLD.  §  1. 

Buddha  canonised' 

St.  Jehoshaphat.       §  46. 

Issues  of  Buddha's 
"pain  and  pleasure'' 
theory. 


Renouncing  the  bad 

world. 

Throwing  away  the  ego. 

Salvation  by 
indoctrination. 


Pessimism. 

Piety  of  mendicants. 


Dissemination  of 
this  orientalism ; 
partly  over  the 
Thebaid  to  the 
Occident. 
§54,  .55,  59,67,78,81, 
87,  97,  122,  125.  131, 
136,142,144-150,185. 


A  new  Brahmanism . 
compromise  between 
pantheism,  polytheism 
and  pessimism ; 


makes  caste-despotism 
invincible. 


ScHOPXaHAUXB. 


Air-line  to  Nirwana 
preferable  to 
metempsychosis. 


Results  obvious 
in  social  life. 


HINDOO-PESSIMISM.  11  B.  CH.  I.  §  58. 

examined,  and  which  incited  Lassen  to  further  investigations.  Nearly  at  the  time  of  Hodgson's 
labors  Koeroes  travelled  in  Tibet,  Wassilgew  in  China,  Schmidt  in  Mongolia,  and  Turnour  col- 
lected Pali- inscriptions  in  Ceylon.  Thus  we  have  finally  obtained  the  clear  picture  of  that 
"Buddhistic"  reformation  in  Asia,  of  which  we  spoke  in  connection  with  the  Lamaism  of 
the  Dalai,  the  pope  of  Asia.  None  but  Arnold,  following  Hegel  in  the  praise  of  the  "Light  of 
Asia"  was  kept  in  the  dark  about  it;  and  so  must  that  pope  of  the  thirteenth  century  have 
been,  who  —after  the  return  of  his  emmisaries  to  the  powerful  moguls— canonised  Buddha 
under  the  name  of  St.  Jehoshaphat.  (It  is  only  since  1850  that  this  saint  has  disappeared 
from  the  Boman  calender.) 

§  58.  All  that  this  reformation  did  was  to  render  Brahmanism  pessimistic.  The  inex- 
tricable and  painful  sufferings  in  such  a  world  of  vanity  as  that  of  Hindoo-conscious- 
ness is,  where  man,  in  punishment  for  the  least  mistake  made  at  a  sacrificial  cere- 
mony, is  again  driven  through  the  process  of  becoming  by  a  tedious  and  disheartening 
repetition  of  return  and  annihilation:  such  an  everlasting  anguish  prompts  in  the  soul 
the  desire  to  escape  into  the  all-god,  who  alone  is  free  from  sorrows.  The  Hindoo 
knows  that  men  cannot  approach  by  way  of  meritorious  works,  may  they  be  im- 
agined as  ever  so  holy.  But  human  thoughts  may  obtain  access  to  him  byway  of  con- 
centrated contemplation,  by  renouncing  this  evil  world,  by  patient  suffering.  By  dy- 
ing, by  fleeing  into  nothingness  one  may  attain  the  stage  of  being  dissolved  into  di- 
vinity. A  nation  drilled  to  such  resignation  is  more  than  half  way  to  its  final  doom. 
The  idea  of  freedom  once  lost,  a  salvation  in  mere  doctrine  is  soon  despaired  of.  The 
mind  then  scorns  life  and  covets  death. 

Such  are  the  views  which  made  Buddhistic  priests,  dissembling  a  profound  world- 
soreness,  to  grow  fat  under  their  garb  of  poverty,  piety  and  sublime  wisdom.  And 
that  wisdom  turned  up  again  and  again,rooting  its  seeds  now  in  the  Thebaid  conveyed 
thither  by  Persian  refugees,  and  then  in  the  determinism  of  the  Islam,  from  whence, 
it  encysted  in  the  dry  seeds  of  asceticism  and  obedience  to  "mendicant"  orders,  it  was 
disseminated  across  the  deserts  and  over  the  Alps. 

Buddhistic  pessimism  was  propagated  among  other  nations  on  the  whole  extent 
from  Japan  to  Spain— the  result  of  it  we  find  in  the  beggar-monks  of  both  these 
countries.  In  India  it  was  at  last  overwhelmed  by  a  restoration  of  pristine  Brah- 
manism in  a  sort  of  counter-reformation.  But  pessimism  was  retained,  and  beggary, 
too,  because  the  priests  deemed  it  very  convenient.  The  pessimistic  world-theory  com- 
bined with  the  pantheo-polytheistic  compromise  made  caste-rule  impregnable. 

The  present  Hindoo-philosophy  sums  up  the  findings  of  its  preceding  stages  in  the 
chief  dogma:  "To  be  is  but  to  perish,  being  is  transient  and  unsubstantial;  it  is  noth- 
ing but  an  everlasting  becoming,  y  natura  nasceans.  All  appearance  is  hollow  and 
empty,  vanity  is  the  essence  of  all  that  is.  Everything  is  subject  to  change,  sorrow, 
and  misery,  and  is  void  of  substantiality.  The  very  life  itself  is  an  evil,  the  greatest 
of  all  evils,  marked  by  tears  at  its  entrance  and  its  exit,  made  up  entirely  of  griefs, 
sickness  and  death."  To  all  these  moans  of  despair  Schopenhauer  as  spokesman  of 
the  modernised  Hindooism  of  the  Occident  has  fully  agreed,  adding  that  "life  is  a 
business  not  covering  expenses." 

This  is  the  doleful  end  of  all  that  serious  and  gloomy  view  of  life  which  assumes 
the  dignified  mien  of  practical  wisdom  or  the  garb  of  monastical  piety,  but  which  is 
merely  the  fruit  of  unmitigated  "natural"  religion  when  merged  into  the  great  name 
of  monistic  science  or  Identity-Philosophy.  Its  orthodoxy  consists  in  calumniating 
nature.  Exchange  the  sceptre  for  the  alms-box;  give  up  the  luxury  of  dressing  ac- 
cording to  your  own  taste  which  stands  as  an  emblem  of  personality  and  distinction; 
throw  away  your  own  suit  of  clothes  and  don  the  yellow  rags  of  the  hermit,  then  you 
are  on  the  air-line  to  Nirwana. 

So  long  as  England  winks  at  the  excrescences  of  such  a  philosophy,  the  90,000 
British  souls  are  safe  in  ruling  255  millions  of  miserable  subjects.  It  cannot  be 
denied  that  in  India  the  thought  divine  is  recognised  in  the  lowest  Paria,  but  not  less 
is  it  in  a  louse.  What  once  had  been  crushed  by  Brahmanism  was  tenderly  lifted  up 
by  Buddhism.  The  right  of  the  individual  was  recognised  once  more;  the  reform  bore 
some  fruit  for  the  benefit  of  social  economy  and  religious  tolerance.  Nevertheless  we 
must  adhere  to  our  former  opinion  expressed  with  regard  to-  the  Buddhistic  "reforma- 
tion," since  in  furtherance  of  human  practices  it  is  void  of  any  real  merit.    For,  the 


n.  B.  Ch.  I.  §  58.  HEATHENISM  KNOWS  OF  NO  SYMPATHY.  143 

Buddhistical  cognizance  of  individual  rights  does  not  enjoin  a  positive  manifestation  Natural  religion 
of  personal  duty  and  regard  for  a  fellow-man's  welfare:  it  does  not  arouse  sympathy  for  e^otlons^S*" 
another  in  his  sufferings.    The  excuse  is  made  easy,  that  he  belongs  to  another  caste,  is  perish. 

^^       .,...,,  ..     Man  a  tool  not  aeserrmg 

not  pious,  not  orthodox,  else  he  would  not  need  to  suffer;  hence  the  individual  practi-  sympathy. 
cally  amounts  to  nothing  after  all.  Things  in  general  only  are  considered  of  some 
value;  and  a  person  is  used  as  a  thing  to  serve  ones  own  interest.  These  principles 
are  brought  to  bear  upon  social  relations  under  all  circumstances— in  India.  Com- 
plete renunciation,withdrawal  from  bothersome  practical  life,  anachoretic  abstinence, 
contemplative  and  penitential  exercises  are  considered  the  highest  virtues  and  as 
meritorious.  Laziness  and  selftorture  are  admired.  The  Hindoo  grade  of  world- 
consciousness  calumniates  the  realm  of  secondary  good  in  nature,  yet  deifies  it  to  the 
extent  of  throwing  away  personal  life  in  the  worship  of  nature's  meanest  objects. 
Whenever  such  principles  lead  any  Hindoo  to  the  disavowal  of  all  human  feelings,  even 
of  parental  and  filial  love,  the  higher  does  he  stand  in  public  esteem.  For,  such  utter 
regardlessness  is  taken  as  the  strongest  proof  of  obedience  to  the  precepts  of  religion, 
as  for  instance  when  a  mother  throws  her  baby  alive  into  the  Ganges  to  feed  the 
sacred  crocodiles. 

The  Ganges  pilgrims  of  Gangotri  arrive  naked,  covered  with  ashes  and  filth,  a  rope  a  scene  on  the  Ganges. 
around  their  waists.   The  long  hairs,  twisted  into  snake-like  strains,  hang  down  over  the  Human  life 
shoulders  upon  the  skeleton-like  trunk,and  thus  appearing  as  figures  which  resemble  appari-  abandoned 
tions  from  the  graves  rather  than  human  beings.     They  impress  the  holder  with  the  idea  that  J^e'deffild^croc^'ilMf 
the  fervor  of  fanaticism  has  dried  out  the  muscles  and  sapped  the  marrow  from  their  languid 
bones. 

It  is  in  this  frightful  manner  that  nature-bound  personal  life  is  thrown  away  to 
a  deified  Ganges  with  its  swarms  of  sacred  crocodiles.  Indeed,  all  this  asceticism,  car- 
ried out  in  dead  earnest,  knowing  nothing  of  the  theoretical  compromise  between 
pantheism  and  crocodiles  divine,  all  these  appalling  practices  of  selftorment,  those 
self  mutilations  of  which  the  mere  reading  makes  one's  blood  curdle— are  considered  Sf  ^  owain^**'* 
as  the  acme  of  ethics  and  are  endured  in  order  to  gain  the  remission  of  sins,  because  forgiveness  of  sins. 
the  "bad"  conscience  of  the  poor  Hindoo  is  not  objectivised  in  demons  as  in  the  case  Analysis  of  the 
of  Shamanism.     Here  lies  the  great  a-nd  characteristic  mark  of  distinction  between  ^^ftt^Go?- a*nd^ 
Shamanistic  selfabandonment  to  the  bad  and  the  Aryan's  yearning  for  the  better,  worid- 
We  call  attention  to  this  circumstance  as  of  vital  importance  in  order  to  resume  consciousness, 
its  discussion  further  on.  %°i^iC9T^ul  m,  iss. 

No  feature  distinguishes  the  Hindoo  frame  of  mind  more  definitely  in  contrast  to  ^^• 

that  of  the  Chinese  than  the  lack  of  historical  sense.    Of  course,  memory  can  be  of  no 
value  to  such  views  of  life.    If  the  world  is  a  delusion  of  the  senses  and  life  a  burden,  ^^^^^^ '''  ^'^***"'' 
then  the  past  is  not  worth  minding  and  history  but  a  folly. 

Save  the  few  myths  derived  from  the  times  of  heroism,  Hindoo  literature  contains  no 
narrative  of  facts,  despite  the  superabundance  of  whatever  imagination  may  be  apt  to  con-  Products  of  phantasy, 
strue.  Products  of  the  phantasy  burden  the  Sanskrit  writings  to  such  an  extent  that  even 
algebra,  medicine,  and  law  are  dressed  in  poetry.  Hence  a  fairy  world  of  soft  features  Algebra,  law,  medldne-i 
and  high  colors  floats  around  the  horizon  of  Hindoo  fancy,  and  spreads  a  mystic  hue  '"  ^  ^"  "  ^°* 
as  of  an  evening  dawn  over  things  visible  and  over  the  pictures  of  abstraction.  Even 
when  the  favorite  children  of  fiction,  the  drama,  the  epic,  the  fairy  tale  step  upon  the  scene, 
the  figures  seldom  rise  above  the  tendency  to  effectuate  enchantment.  Like  narcotic  flowers 
and  tenacious  creepers,  twisted  into  garlands  and  wreaths,  so  the  plays  and  songs  do  not  con- 
ceal the  purpose  of  decorating  life  with  something  sweet  and  harmless.  Notwithstanding  their 
heavy  laden  hearts  these  guileless  children  of  nature  have  a  fairy-land  left  to  them,  whenever  A  fancy-world  of 
they  are  among  themselves ;  for  they  do  not  like  the  stranger  to  pry  into  their  private  life  and 
their  world  of  sacred  ideals.  Their  fairy-tales  are  like  significant  dreams,  rich  in  childlike 
anticipations,  full  of  evidences  of  deep-mindedness  and  uprightness.  And  these  very  fairy- 
tales have  found  their  way  from  the  banana-palms  of  India  to  the  pine  forests  of  Norway  and 
through  Anderson's  appreciation  into  our  own  literature.  They  grew  up  under  high  shade- 
trees,  and  like  the  voices  of  merry  youth,  full  of  touching  sentiments,  they  reverberate  through 
the  whole  Germanic  world.  Wherever  boyish  heedlessness  needs  to  be  kept  out  of  mischief 
and  the  unwary  girl  is  to  be  cautioned ;  where  ambitious  youthfulness  is  wanted  to  sit  spell- 
bound so  as  to  direct  adventurous  thoughts  to  inward  enthusiasm ;  or  where  the  mind  is  bent 
to  dreamy  indecision,  resembling  the  combat  between  the  morning  fog  and  the  rays  of  the 
rising  sun :  there  the  old  fairy-tales  ever  find  an  echo. 

Even  the  great  epics  of  India  suffer  under  the  drowsiness  of  its  climate.    The  cumatic  influences, 
figures  drawn  in  them  reveal  a  fulness  of  soul  and  touch,  but  like  the  Lotus-flowers 
and  the  "pious  gazelles"  they  appear  extremely  hazy  and  are,  like  king  Vismavitra, 
exceedingly  fictitious. 


144 

Phantasmagories 
mirrored  in 
the  baroque  style 
of  pagoda; 


emblematic  of  the 
chaos  of  Indian 
philosophy  and 
polytheism. 

Relic-worship. 

§  48,  58, 125, 127, 
150, 151,  252. 


Haha-stupa  upon 
Ceylon. 


Weird 
phenomena 
rising  from  the 
obscure  sub- 
stratum : 
Snake-worship, 

§'41,45,48,49,54, 

55,  57,  65,  66,  71, 

73,  78,  83,  86, 109, 

135. 

The  educated 
conniving-  at  the 
utter  supersti- 
tion of  the 
lower  classes, 
§  40,  55,  65,  72.  73, 
95,  98,  170.  197. 
and  partake  of  it. 


Fear  of  the  evil  eye. 


Scene«  of  every-day  life. 


Falcirs  at  Benares : 

anthropophagy. 


Phenomena 
inexplicable 
from  natural 
grounds. 
§  35,  37,  40,  45, 110, 
202,  212. 


Montegazza. 

§232. 

Indestructible 
reminiscences  of 
original 
religiousness ; 
following  man 
into  such 
degeneracy. 
§  42,  47,  55,  59,  74, 
95, 109, 115. 


FACTS  INEXPLICABLE  ON  NATUEAL  GROUNDS.  II.  B.  Ch.  1.  §  58. 

The  obtuse  phantasmagories  of  inverted  Hindoo-thinking,  attempting  to  repre- 
sent unthinkable  abstractions,  are  embodied  most  tangibly  in  the  architectural  style 
of  the  huge  pagodas  which  rise  high  up  from  the  mango  groves— to  say  nothing  of 
the  idols  set  up  therein. 

Terrace-shaped,these  towers  consist  of  a  confounding  mass  of  stories  and  cupolas,  and 
strikingly  represent  the  structure  of  Buddhistic  dogmatics  with  its  thousand  subtleties  and 
contradictions  which  are  forced  to  fit  the  system,  and  which  to  unravel  takes  the  72  a  priori 
categories  of  a  Brahmin's  brain  and  their  subdivisions— all  stereotyped  in  terra  cotta.  And  an 
impossible  tooth  or  a  gigantic  footprint  of  a  Buddha  (for  there  are  over  twenty  of  his  incar- 
nations) is  after  all  that  deep-minded  mysticism,the  holy  of  holies,  within  all  these  abstruse 
embellishments. 

Recall  to  mind  the  picture  of  the  Mahu-stupa,  the  Buddhistic  monastery  resting  upon. 
1600  pillars  which  a  Zingalesian  king  built  upon  the  island  of  Ceylon.  Looking  at  such  a 
baroque,  bombastic  monster-edifice,  one  is  not  only  oppressed  by  its  senselessness  and  absolute 
ugliness,  but  also  confused  as  by  the  best  emblem  imaginable  of  a  perfect  chaos.  So  much  of 
India  in  its  oJEcial  decorum,  or  public  deportment,  the  India  of  Sanskrit  and  Systems.  Differ- 
ent, however,  it  appears  when  we  look  into  the  depths  of  consciousness,  which  out  of  the 
masses  of  human  beings  in  general  inadvertantly  reveals  itself. 

Of  snake-worship,  flourishing  in  spite  of  dogmatic  and  philosphical  scholasticism^ 
because  of  Buddhistic-pantheistical  indifference  to  truth— we  need  not  say  much. 
But  to  observe  demon- worship  ruling  in  India  just  as  much  as  we  cared  to  see  of  it 
in  Mongolia— this  is  surprising.  Its  chief  seat  was  Tinnevelly.  Long  before  the 
Brahmins  rose  to  pre-eminence  the  demons  were  predominant  throughout  India 
down  to  Ceylon.  Demon-worship  was  the  religion  of  the  Dravida,  it  is  said,  and,  we 
add,  was  a  part  of  the  religious  peculiarity  which  is  common  to  all  the  Aryans.  For, 
these  demons,  the  existence  of  which  was  believed  by  the  former  occupants  of  India 
who  formed  the  substructure  of  Hindoo  culture,  were  never  driven  out  altogether  by 
the  poetical,  religious,  and  metaphysical  systems  elaborated  by  the  well-to-do  classes. 

Among  the  latter  we  met  the  rational  pole  of  human  understanding  in  its  en- 
deavor to  bring  religious  feelings  and  traditions  before  consciousness,  that  is,  into  in- 
telligible order  and  clear  comprehension.  At  the  same  time  and  on  the  very  same 
spot  we  find  the  other,  the  superstitious  pole  agitating  the  "lower"  classes,  to  which 
some  of  the  "educated"  must  ever  be  reckoned,  so  long  as  they  can  look  on  with 
indifference  to  the  very  queer  practices  below,  without  a  motion  to  rescue  those 
under  durance  of  the  powers  of  darkness. 

They  give  divine  adoration  to  a  "virgin  cow",  rendering  their  doorsills  and  dishes  sacred 
and  inviolable  against  the  influences  of  the  demons,or  of  the  "evil  eye"  by  besmearing  and  be- 
sprinkling them  with  the  excrements  of  that  cow. 

We  descend  further  down  to  where  our  poor  Aryan  cousins  forego  one  meal  after  the 
other  rather  than  risk  that  the  evil  eye  of  the  stranger,  or  of  one  from  a  lower  caste,  may 
glance  at  his  victuals  whereby  they  would  be  defiled  so  as  to  make  the  consumer  unclean. 

Further  down  to  where  the  poor  maiden  drinks  with  deep  veneration  the  water  in  which 
the  Brahmin  beggar  has  washed  his  feet,  whereby  she  hopes  to  obtain  a  higher  state  of  purity 
within  herself,  and  to  imbibe  an  afB.uence  of  his  divinity. 

The  fakirs,  sitting  around  the  gates  of  Benares  in  dirty  nudeness,  carry  a  skull  in  their 
hands,  on  occasions  which  are  not  so  very  rare,  either,  of  which  skull  they  have  just  eaten  off 
the  flesh,  the  eyes,  and  the  brain. 

Facts  like  these  point  to  more  than  a  degeneracy  from  a  higher  form  of  religion 
and  culture.  They  point  downward  to  a  wild,  spurious  and  thick  undergrowth;  to 
elements  of  an  infernal  nature  breaking  through  the  upper  stratum  from  underneath. 
From  premises  of  natural  science  the  indelible  phenomena  of  demonolatry  and  anthro- 
pophagy cannot  be  explained. 

In  the  talks  about  incarnations  into  a  fish,  or  a  bear,  or  a  tiger:  everywhere  the 
former  ancestor-worship  and  beast-service  into  which  the  fallen  race  had  been  en- 
thralled comes  to  the  surface  again. 

In  one  of  the  1454  Hindoo  temples  of  Benares  more  than  a  thousand  monkeys  are  cared  for 
and  enjoy  even  the  freedom  of  the  city.  A  golden  ape  stands  in  the  sanctuary.  "Surely", 
Montegazza  exclaimed  on  viewing  this  spectacle — "sound  common  sense  has  embodied  a  great 
truth  in  the  belief  of  the  devil."  So  unspeakably  obnoxious  and  mad  did  this  perversion  and 
depravity  of  reason  appear  to  him. 

Into  that  deep  degeneracy  and  hideous  mixture  of  fears  and  hopes  men  have  drag- 
ged down  with  themselves  also  the  indestructible  remnants  of  original  and  tradi- 
tional religion,  namely  :  the  consciousness  of  a  God  above  ;  the  cognition  of  unity  of 
the  human  race  by  common  descent ;  the  reminiscence  of  a  better  and  a  higher  good 


n.  B.  CH.  I.  §  58.         INTELLECTUALISM  UNABLE  TO  ABOLISH  SUPERSTITION.  145 

for  the  possession  of  which  man  is  destined  :  the  idea  of  dominion  over  nature  ;  and  Criterion  of 
the  recollection  of  the  necessity  of  an  expiation  by  way  of  a  sacrifice  without  S"uatfoii  I?\^®ys 
hierarchal  interference.    And  all  these  remnants  are  as  clearly  indicated  in  the  ^ressions^lS^Us 
inner  and  exterior  life  of  the  Hindoos  as  with  us ;  only  that  among  Indian  surround-  religious 
ings  they  prove  their  incorruptibleness  so  much  the  stronger.    Thus  the  standard  by  ^^"rSrS  47,^4, 56, 
which  the  ethical  character  of  a  nation  and  the  value  of  its  culture  is  to  be  meas-  J26^i3i^i3?  la?'  139' 
ured,  is  always  given  in  the  expression  of  the  religious  consciousness  ;  that  is,  in  the  i^l  175'  i90. 
way  people  apeak  of,  or  in  the  manner  in  which  they  aesthetically  represent  their  Most  knaried  branch  ot 
idea  of,  the  deity.    And  as  we  never  find  the  remnants  entirely  absent,  so  do  we  not  ^^^  ^""""^  **°"^^' 
miss  the  measure  alluded  to  in  this  most  knarled  branch  of  the  Aryan  family. 

Vishnu  with  his  four  arms  rides  upon  a  symbolic  figure,   partly  man  and  partly  bird.  Vishnu-Sfva. 
Siva  with  his  three  eyes  sits  nude  upon  his  ox,  wearing  a  chain  of  skulls  around  his  neck.     *"**  *"  *  ' 
Millions  of  devotees  pay  homage  to  either  one  of  those  deities  thus  represented.    Other  mil- 
lions favor  the  elephant-headed  Ganesha,  sitting  upon  a  rat.    Kali,  with  her  hair)  disheveled« 
like  a  fury,  the  chain  of  human  skulls  around  her  bust,  her  bloody  tongue  bulging  far  out  of 
her  mouth,  is  conducted  in  solemn  procession  through  the  principal  streets  of  Calcutta. 

All  this  divulges  black  secrets  protruding  from  a  sphere  more  corrupt  than  de-  Secrets  of  a 
ranged  nature  itself,  by  its  spiritual  denizens  who  must  be  endowed  with  supernatu-  corJup ™han 
ral  energy,  superhuman  intelligence  and  indefatigable  persistency.    The  effects  of  ^^^f^^fJ^f^^J^  nature 
the  agility  in  this  sphere,  upon  human  life  in  prehistoric  culture,become  stratified  as  superhuman  intelligence 

energy  and  persistency. 

demon-service  and  beast-cult,  which  out  of  this  lowest  stratum  has  ever  and  anon 

broken  forth,  and  which  in  India  gradually  was  mixed  into  the  Veda-religion  of  the  cont"radictoVto  feLon. 

Rig-period,  in  proportion  as  the  latter  was  allowed  to  become  formalistic  and  to 

petrify. 

Buddhism  was  not  able  to  suppress  this  wild  growth  from  below.    Not  even  neg-  inteiiectuaiism 
atively  could  it  accomplish  the  reformation  promised  by  it  and  ascribed  to  it.    The  "a?e^ihe*root  ^^" 
Mongolian  from  Urga  to  the  Kuku-noor  lets  the  wild  beasts  devour  the  remains  of  de-  ramified  in  the 
parted  friends,  whilst  he  will  not  kill  an  animal,  but  spares  the  life  of  tlie  vermin  ^^gfaT^T^^^es,  72, 
upon  his  own  body.    The  Indo-Aryan,  on  the  other  hand,  the  soft,  melancholy  Hindoo  "^3, 96, 97. 

with  the  same  considerateness  for  vermin,  throws  children  alive  into  the  stream,  be- 
cause the  Ganges  is  sacred.  Hindoo  burial-places  are  the  most  horrible  looking  local- 
ities imaginable.  But  to  the  same  Hindoo  his  European  cousin  is  the  uncleanest 
thing,  just  because  he  uses  a  water-closet  and  does  not  step  aside  like  the  Hindoo  with 
a  small  shovel  in  his  hand. 

Let  us  recapitulate.    Aryan  culture  we  find  to  be  of  a  decidedly  higher  grade»  Recapitulation: 
As  compared  with  the  Mongolian  we  find  the  Hindoo  possessing  the  consciousness  of  mndooVharactL«.  ° 
a  rupture,  acknowledging  that  which  ought  not  be,  being  disgusted  with  the  bad.  Conscienscious- 
In  his  disgust  he  takes  creation,  in  which  man  is  but  a  transient  phenomenon,  for  ailve^  but^s^n'^* 
sin  itself,  and  yearns  to  be  delivered  from  both.    Yet  so  deep  is  the  feeling  of  the  attributed  to 
moral  deficiency  within  the  Hindoo,  that  man  appears  to  him  even  worse  than  nature,  ^^^^''g'^  25, 83, 92. 
worse  than  all  his  fellow  creatures,  so  that  he  esteems  them  as  superior  to  himself.  Personality  (the 
even  as  holy  in  comparison  with  himself.    This  shows  that  the  Hindoo  has  lost  the  falSatkfn?* 
standard  of  valuation.   The  worth  of  a  person  goes  to  naught  wherever  the  belief  in  abandoned,  since 
the  personal  God  is  abandoned.  l^rsSnaVSod^is 

The  bewilderment  of  the  mind  increasing,  the  capability  to  understand  and  to  explain  obliterated, 
the  mysteries  of  nature  decreases ;  and  by  asceticism  the  Hindoo  tries  to  got  rid  of  nature 
instead  of  ridding  himself  from  the  wrong  conceptions  which  Jie  holds  the  more  sacred  in 
proportion  to  their  absurdity  and  unmercifulness.    Under  such  circumstances  speculation 
fails  in  its  purpose  to  master  the  situation,  the  practice  of  endurance  and  self  torture  notwith-  still  persevering  to  solve 
standing.    The  Hindoo,  nevertheless,  perseveres  in  his  labor  to  solve  as  much  of  the  riddle  of  the  riddle  at  the 

.  •     „..  ,.,  ,  ,  „,.,.  ,  ,,  „  .  entrance  into  history. 

nis  existence, which  stood  at  the  entrance  of  his  history  as  he  can  recollect  of  it.  §  37  Yama. 

The  enigmatical  fact  of  sorrow  and  sin  is  the  pivot  upon  which  all  Indian  search 
and  sacrifice  hinges.    During  this  perplexing  search  thought  broods  over  the  deep  upon  sorrow  and  ^in 
abyss— over  the  antithesis  of  nature  and  spirit.    The  Hindoo's  mind  attempts  to  bridge  and^sLrmcT  ^^*''' 
this  abyss,  that  is,  to  close  the  synthesis,  at  the  expense  of  the  reality  of  present  life,  brfdge  over*  the 
For,  the  polar  tension  between  the  two,  matter  and  mind,  as  manifest  in  human  ^'^fp^^and^nafure 
nature  or  personal  life,  causes,  as  he  thinks,  all  the  trouble  and  torment.  Natural  resentiment 

The  intense  desire  to  have  the  deeply  felt  wants  of  the  present  life  filled  with  ?f  the     ^^^^ 
real  contents,  and  to  be  liberated  from  grief  and  gloom  causes  the  remarkable  phe- 
nomenon of  the  Hindoo- 

INCARNATIONS. 


14ß 


ABYANS  SEPARATE. 


IL  B.  Ch.  n.  §  59. 


Country  of  Iran. 


Separation  of  the 
Hindoos  from  the 
Iranians. 


of  the  friends  of 
Yarunaslndra  from 
those  of  Mithra. 


57. 


Remnants  of 

Sristine  tra- 
itions  held  in 
common : 

§  42,  55,  58,  59,  74, 
95, 109, 115. 


Unity  of  Sanskrit  and 
Zend-people. 


Religious  cause  of  the 
detachment : 

Hindoo  devas :  deus ; 

Persian  dews :  devils. 


Genesis  of 
differences  in 
character  of 
Hindoos  and 
Persians. 

Resisting  the  bad, 
kept  up  by  con- 
flicts and 
relierions 
symbolism.     §  56. 


Ahuramazda : 
originally  monotheistic. 


Indra  and  Hindoos  akin 
to  Greek  bond  of  mind. 
Mithra  and  Persians 
move  like  the  Romans. 
Geibib. 


Subsequently  the 
fact  of  sin  is 
taken  simply  as 
a  matter  of 
doctrine. 


Iranians  less  fervent, 
but  also  less  immoral. 


Iranian 
universalism 

in  contrast  with 

Hindooish 

all-the-sameness. 


CH.  II.    ORIENTAL  ARYANS :    ORIENT— RIGHT  WING. 
2.    NORTHERN  PART :    PERSIANS. 
§  59.   .Iran  is,  like  the  Pamir  region,  a  highland  of  large  dimensions.    The   dis- 
tance from  Balch  (the  Baetra  of  old)  to  Teheran  almost  equals  that  between  New 
York  and  Chicago,  and  the  district  forms  a  large  square  with  equal  extensions  of  its 
boundary  lines. 

This  plateau  expands  from  the  steep  mountain  walls  of  the  Hindukush,— the  southern 
spurs  of  which  separate  Iran  from  India,— to  the  Kurdic  Alps  in  the  west  and  the  Armenian 
parts  of  the  Caucasus  in  the  north-west.  Its  height  above  sea-level  averages  about  three 
thousand  feet,  containing  great  salty  marshes  and  steppes,  and  a  number  of  broad,  dry  water 
courses  where  former  rivers  have  been  swallowed  up  by  the  sands  of  the  deserts.  Whilst 
draughts  of  cold  air  move  across  the  heights,  tropical  heat  makes  the  long  deep  valleys  and 
their  southern  slopes  hot-beds  of  sweet  scenting  vegetation,  clothing  the  regions  with  a  pleas- 
ing variation  of  verdure  in  high  forests  and  in  pasture  lands.  To  imagine,  however,the  empire 
full  of  the  fragrance  of  the  province  of  Shiras,  would  cause  a  wrong  apperception  about 
Persia.  For,  in  the  most  parts  of  its  area  glowing  winds  from  the  Southern  Ocean  heap  up 
moving  dunes  of  drift  sands  in  and  around  the  deserts. 

When  the  eastern  Aryans  set  out  from  the  heights  beyond  the  Himalayas,  toward 
the  Tegions  where  now  Kandahar  in  Afghanistan  is  located  ;  when  the  friends  of 
Varunna  then  separated  and  took  their  route  down  the  Indus  inclines :  the  other 
branch  stayed— as  we  have  seen— to  occupy  this  henceforth  Iranian  country.  The 
indications  are  that  down  to  about  2000  B.  C.  the  religions  of  the  sister  nations  were 
identical,  just  as  in  regard  to  language  the  original  unity  is  demonstrated  by  one 
glance  over  a  table  of  words  from  the  Sanskrit  and  Zend  languages.  The  figures  of 
Mithras,  the  God  of  light,  that  of  the  tree  of  life,  and  of  Manu,  the  common  ancestor 
after  the  flood,  the  same  names  and  rites  in  numerous  instances,  prove  this  axiom  of 
kinship  to  have  outgrown  the  nature  of  a  hypothesis.  The  unity  of  the  Indo-Europ- 
ean family  up  to  2000  B.  C.  is  an  incontrovertible  fact.  And  that  the  cause  of  the 
separation  was  a  religious  difference  is  more  than  problematic,  as  illustrated  by  the 
misunderstanding  in  the  matter  of  the  Hindoo  devas  and  the  Persian  dews,  and  as 
indicated  by  many  other  circumstances. 

In  yonder  period  before  the  separation,  Varuna,  corresponding  to  the  old  Persian 
Ahuramazda,  seems  to  have  possessed  the  dignity  of  the  sole,  or  at  least  the  predomi- 
nant, deity.  To  this  period  of  unity  and  common  experience  is  due  the  vivid  impres- 
sion of  the  power  of  the  bad.  On  account  of  the  contests  in  which  the  Iranians  were 
continually  engaged,  they  had  more  occasion  to  revive  this  impression,  and  learned 
more  and  more  to  understand  the  duty  of  resisting  the  bad;  whilst  with  the  Indo- 
Aryans  that  cognition  became  obliterated  by  the  quiet  life  in  a  most  happily  situated 
country  durinpf  a  long  period  of  peace. 

Besides  the  dualism,  developing  from  the  concept  of  the  reality  of  the  Bad,  the  theology 
of  Iran  became  far  more  differently  formulated  in  the  highlands  from  what  Hindoo-philosophy 
had  made  out  of  the  ancient  traditions.  Geiger  has  shown  the  genesis  of  the  doctrinal  dif- 
ferences in  question.  The  Indba  of  India  is  plastic,  is  a  poetical,  yet  a  life-like  figure  of  a  god 
with  whom  the  Hindoos  were  as  familiar  as  the  Greeks  with  their  deities.  The  Mithba  of 
Pbbsia  is  abstract,  is  deistically  conceived,  and  is  treated  with  the  same  stiff,  cold  and  distant 
respect,  which  the  Romans  paid  to  Jupiter  in  an  emergency.  The  fresh  and  natural  Indra  is, 
of  course,  preferable  to  Geiger.  According  to  him  Ahuramazda  is  altogether  too  transcen- 
dental, a  mere  mirage  of  priestly  designs.  For  reasons  given  (§24,  41.)  natural-mindedness 
with  its  proneness  to  carnal- mindedness  always  renders  the  fact  of  sin  a  mere  point  of  doc- 
trine and  controversy ;  because  taken  as  a  fact  it  would  lead  to  certain  consequences  which,  as 
postulates  of  salvation,  are  offensive  to  naturalism.  Hence  the  objections  to,  and  the  dislike 
of,  the  good  Ahuramazda. 

Upon  investigating,  whether  the  Vedic  gods— as  Geiger  believes,  and  as  Schiller  looked 
upon  the  gods  of  Greece— were  really  considered  by  the  Hindoos  as  figures  of  "flesh  and 
blood"  we  do  not  enter;  we  simply  reject  the  supposition. 

Another  cause  of  the  difference  is  to  be  found  in  the  practical  sense  of  the  Persians  who 
could  neither  put  so  much  phantasy  into  their  conception  of  the  divine  as  the  Greeks,  nor  give 
themselves  up  to  such  intense  contemplation  as  the  Hindoos  did.  Upon  the  basis  of  their  more 
active  life  the  Iranians  discriminated  more  resolutely  between  thought  and  deed,  making 
poetry  a  seperate  thing.  Hence  the  Persians  did  not  swerve  from  traditional  universalism, 
while  the  Hindoos  only  returned  to  this  idea  after  they  had  taken  the  round-about  way 
through  Buddhistic  speculation  and  abstractness,  whereby  the  idea  of  the  original  oneness  of 
the  human  family  had  lost  the  freshness  of  reality,  and  had  become  dissolved  into  an  indiffer- 
ent and  nebulous  all-the-sameness.  Persian  universalism  stands  higher  morally,  than  the 
Hindoo  with  his  satiety,  senility  and  misanthropy,  with  his  disgust  of  a  life  worn  out  in  the 
times  of  levity. 


n.  A.  CH.  n.  §  59.  AHURAMAZDA  AND  ANGROMAYNGUS.  147 

The  Zend  religion  knows  of  a  divine  will,  which  embraces  the  destinies  of  all  Analysis  of  the  national 
men  in  a  future  life.    Spiegel  in  his  "Holy  Writs  of  the  Persians"  quotes  a  striking  ira^nuns":  ° 
declaration.    The  question,  whether  there  might  exist  people  who  were  pure  without 
being  followers  of  Zoroaster  is  answered  in  the  aflSrmative:    "Surely  there  are  such,  Cognition  of 
everywhere,  have  been  created  pure  by  Ormuzd  and  have  kept  themselves  as  pure  as  SSmaiüty  m°* 
possible,  having  lived  in  accord  with  the  good  law  without  knowing  it."    This  uni-  ^fJllä'^^^^**' 
versalism  becomes  complete  in  an  apocatastasis  of  all  things.     According  to  pas- 
sages gathered  and  adduced  from  Persian  sources,  there  was  taught  a  final  restitution 
of  the  bad  spirits  even. 

The  wide  area,  and  the  contact  with  many  people  assisted  the  Iranians  in  becoming  influence  of  physical 
broad-minded.    They  have  not  that  silly  pride  which  calls  its  own  language  "the  perfect"  and  environments, 
calls  people  who  do  not  speak  it  mlekka  i.  e.  "dumb  people."     Thus  they  became  that  sturdy, 
intelligent  and  truthloving  nation,  which  created  Medo-Persian  culture,  and  created  a  state 
which  checked  Koman  impetuousness.    Upon  their  highlands  they  lived  in  a  healthy  atmos-  Freedom  grows 
phere,  not  soft  and  effeminating,  but  always  brisk  and  invigorating,  among  environments  on  highlands, 
which  favored  energy  for  work  and  for  war ;  which  favored  the  sentiments  of  freedom  and  ^^''^^gy  for  work 
independence,    The  sense  of  honor  and  duty  was  cultivated ;  manliness  and  bravery  became  stimulated, 
proverbial,  A  peculiar  constitutionality  of  clans  and  districts  encouraged  selfconscious  merit,  Seifconscious  of  merits. 
individual  excellency,  and  tribal  emulation.     Every  man    had  a  value  and  bore  a  dignity  in 
partaking  of  the  management  of  general  affairs  by  his  council  and  his  courage. 

Upon  the  field  occupied  the  Iranians  had  to  be  ever  ready  and  swift  on  horse-back  in  its 
defense  on  all  sides.     At  an  early  date  the  challenge  of  the  Turanian  nation  ofAkkadia  Tribal  emulation 
had  tobe  accepted.  And  when  they,  on  the  whole,  were  defeated  and  driven  westward  into  the  challenged  by  Accadians. 
plains  of  the  Tigris  and  the  Euphrates,  the  victors  had  gained  more  than  a  free  country  of 
their  own ;    they  had  become  accustomed  to  selfreliance,  to  vigilance  and  other  ennobling 
traits. 

As  the  Hindoo  idols  mirror  the  lethargy  and  disgust  with  real  life,  so  the  clear  cut  char- 
acter of  the  Iranians  is  reflected  from  the  forms  which  objectivised  their  religious  tenets,  and 
which  reflect  their  God-consciousness.  In  fact,  their  readiness  for  the  fight  was  only  the  re- 
flection of  that  struggle  between  light  and  night,  which  intonates  the  key-note  of  the  concert 
of  world-and  God-consciousness  in  the  history  of  the  Iranians,  yea  of  the  Indo-Germans. 

Ahuramazda  stands  out  conspicuously  as  the  personification  of  the  good,  opposed  Duaiism: 
by  Angromayngus,  the  leader  of  the  bad  gods  and  the  evil  spirits.    That  opponent,  Angro^aySgu.?™"!**^^ 
however,  is  not  conceived  as  being  a  rebel,  but  as  possessing  independence,  tho  less  prince  »t  darkness— ^""^ 
powerful  and  in  a  sense  subordinate— as  dwelling  in  hell.    His  shape  is  tliat  of  a  snake,  the'shape'of thl^sÄ? 
Under  that  form  he  corrupted  the  purity  of  a  nature,  which  in  spite  of  him  and  as  a 
partition  wall  against  him,  had  been  created  by  Ahuramazda.    About  that  bulwark 
of  separation  the  war  ensued  and  is  waged  on  both  sides  under  many  vicissitudes 
through  all  the  ages  of  history.    At  the  end  of  it  the  hosts  of  spirits  will  be  drawn  up 
in  array  of  battle  and  the  decision  will  be  fought  out.    Then  the  well  organised  band  weai  of  warfare. 
of  the  resurrected  will  overwhelm  the  throngs  of  the  prince  of  darkness. 

Upon  this  principle  of  the  reality  of  the  bad,  and  upon  the  definite  distinction  be"  strict  distinction 
tweenthe  good  and  the  bad,  the  construction  of  the  straightforward  morality  was  and^the\ad,^*^^^ 
possible  which  by  far  excels  that  of  the  Hindoo,  and  of  the  Greeks. 

Truthfulness  and  chasteness  are  more  highly  estimated  than  even  the  fortitude 
of  the  warrior.    Since  propitiation  can  not  be  circumvented,  it  is  held  that  absolute  Truthful  and  chaste. 
and  honest  deeds  can  repudiate  sin.     So  far  the  Persians  are  in  earnest.    But  here 
begins  the  corruption  of  the  moral  sense. 

The  means  for  paying  the  religious  debt  are  arranged  in  such  a  manner  as  to  re-  L^^^erin  the 
semble  a  stipulated  set-off;  expiation  assumes  the  nature  of  an  external  business  significance  of   • 
transaction.    The  equivalent  for  guilt  is  put  down  to  the  lowest  terms  possible,  and  *^®  ^^^' 
may  even  under  such  cheapening  of  sin  be  set  up  as  a  counterclaim.    With  that 
lowering  of  rates,  the  moral  unconcern  and  negligence  were  instigated  through 
which  the  ideal  meaning  of  life's  combat  was  lost;  the  duty  of  resisting  wickedness  Extravagance  and 
was  mechanically  balanced  without  putting  the  performer  under  much  inconven-  moSy.''^  displaces 
ience.    Henceforth  the  spirit  of  pugnacity  was  stimulated  merely  in  the  interest  of 
aggrandisement  and  imperious  extravagance,  as  we  find  Persia  when  outwardly  it 
had  its  zenith  in  the  night  of  Belshazzar.  When  the  ideal  of  the  religious  warfare  The  guilt  located 
against  sin  had  become  oblivious,  then  was  not  heroism  on  the  wane,  but  the  old-  outside  of  self— 
fashioned  morality  disappeared.    The  downward  course  began  with  objectvising  the  ^^"  ^  ^§^24,^55, 169. 
bad,  with  laying  the  fault  to  outward  circumstances  or  upon  other  persons.    It  will 
end  in  the  depreciation  of  the  good,  or  in  heaping  calumny  and  ridicule  upon  it.  culture  couapses. 
Under  holocausts  of  relatively  innocent  victims  the  culture  of  Persia  went  up  in  smoke. 


148 


CYBUS  GOING  TO  WORSHIP. 


n.  B.  CH.  II.  §  59. 


Display  of  warriors 
under  the  chivalrous 
Chosreos  Parviz. 


In  the  classic  times  when  Persia  was  at  its  prime  everything  was  thought  and  done  under 
•aspects  of  combative  forces.  From  the  struggles  with  the  Chaldeans  and  afterwards  with  the 
Roman  eagles,  the  Persians  profited,  at  the  least,  a  spirit  of  chivalry  similar  to  that  which  a 
thousand  years  later  made  '"the  Franks"  respected  in  the  east.  There  existed  a  noble  knight- 
hood, arrayed  in  splendid  coats  of  mail  and  with  helmets  decorated  as  fine  as  ever  a  crusader 
wore.  Chosreos  Parviz  in  his  accoutrement,  majestically  sitting  upon  his  charger,  looked 
exactly  like  one  of  the  good  swordsmen  of  Richard  the  Lionhearted,  or  of  Barbarossa  when 
he  entered  the  lists  at  a  tournament  or  mounted  the  warhorse  for  the  long  ride  against  the 


GoTemmental  power 
centralised : 
change  of  national 
character. 


Scene  at  Pasargadae. 


Cyrus  going  to  worship. 


His  retinue  a 
picture  of  the 
Heavenly 
Kingdom. 

§  55,  56,  61,  80,  97, 

100,  124, 127,  137, 

144,  148, 150, 165, 

178,  191. 

Approach  to  a 
proper  apper- 
ception of  the 
spiritual  and 
transcendental 
as  immanent  in 
history. 

Absence  of  temple 
ruins. 


Religious  bias  of 
the  Persian  mind 
as  represented  in 
architecture. 

Grandeur  of 
,  government: 

Swiftness  in  admin- 
istration of  justice. 


Susa-Sardes  in  100  hours 


As  Brahmanism  turned 
to  Buddhism,  so 
Zoroasters  religion 
turned  into  Parsism. 


Nettorians  cause  the 
Parsees  to  revive  the 
doctrines  as  to 
Ormuzd. 

§  54,  58, 124,  140. 


Of  a  decisive  influence  upon  the  formation  of  the  peculiarities  of  the  Persian 
character  was  the  combination  of  the  Iranian  tribes  into  one  nation  under  a 
thoroughly  centralised  government.  But  when  the  dominion  was  thus  rendered  com- 
pact, the  oppressive  administrations  of  satraps,  organised  after  the  pattern  of  the 
iron  despotism  further  east,  became  the  signals  of  disaster,  of  the  collapse  of  Persian 
glory. 

When  Cyrus  arose  from  his  seat  under  the  canopy  of  his  throne  in  order  to  go  to  worship 
he  was  forbidden  by  law  to  walk  further  than  to  the  portals  of  the  Great  Hall  of  State  at  the 
foot  of  the  broad  stairway.  There  his  team  waited  and  6000  body-guards  presented  arms;  also 
four  heifers  stood  ready,  decorated  for  his  sacrifice  to  Ahuramazda  and  his  subaltern  gods. 
Then  the  horses  dedicated  to  the  sun-god  were  led  to  the  front,  and  the  wagon  of  the  god,  to 
which  a  special  team  of  four  white  horses  was  hitched,  drove  up ;  then  the  bearers  of  the 
sacred  flame  followed,  and  now  the  king  took  his  place  beside  the  driver  of  his  chariot ;  the 
procession  started.  Crowned  with  the  tiara  and  wearing  a  loose  purple  tunic  with  a  white 
stripe  from  the  neck  down  to  the  hem,  he  was  greeted  by  the  populace  in  solemn  silence ; 
dexterously  the  four  thousand  guards  in  front  and  two  thousand  in  the  rear  of  his  chariot  fell 
in  line,  whilst  three  hundred  lancers  rode  alongside  the  royal  car ;  then  the  kings  horses  of 
noblest  pedigre,  decked  with  gold-embroidered  equipments  and  striped  shabracks  are 
led  along  the  broad,paved  avenue;  then  follow  two  thousand  spearmen  afoot  in  the  parade, 
and  another  army  of  ten  thousand  cavalry  in  squadrons  of  hundred  each,  under  the  commands 
of  Chrysantes,  Hystaspes,  Datamas  and  Gadatas.  Finally  a  numerous  retinue  of  Median,  Ar- 
menian, Hyrkanian  and  Scythian  nobles  under  the  command  of  Arbaces  make  up  the  rear- 
guard of  the  enormous  cavalcade. 

This  magnific  despotism  was  not  the  product  of  southern  drowsiness.  It  repre- 
sents the  issue  of  an  eventful  history  since  those  days  when  Bactra  was  as  yet  the 
seat  of  Iranian  piety  and  culture.  This  Persian  world-monarchy  was  welded  together 
by  wars.  When  the  monarch  rides  to  the  simple  altar,  the  splendor  of  the  other 
world  is  to  be  reflected  by  this  demonstrative  display  of  sovereignty.  The  throne  sur- 
rounded by  the  princes  of  the  proud  empire  becomes  a  picture  of  the  Heavenly  king- 
dom. It  was  Persian  conservatism  in  regard  to  the  spirituality  of  religion  which 
kept  the  Persians  from  imitating  the  Babylonian  forms  of  lowest  paganism.  Hence, 
also,  the  absence  of  such  gorgeous  temple  ruins  on  Persian  soil,  wherefore  we  are 
spared  meeting  with  the  lowest  of  religious  subversions  practiced  in  the  same  local- 
ities in  pre-eranian  times. 

The  buildings  of  Persia  were,  on  the  whole,  mere  copies  of  Assyrian  architecture,  as 
shown  by  the  winged  bulls  with  human  heads  which  support  the  portal  pillars  of  the  Grand 
Hall  upon  the  terraces  of  Persepolis.  The  doors,  however,  mark  development  in  a  diflPerent 
direction.  The  pillars  are  taller,  and  the  heads  of  animals  which  in  Ninive  support  the  arches 
above,  are  here  lowered  to  the  base  of  the  columns.  And  those  Persian  pillars  with  double- 
headed  capitals  show  the  combination  of  masonry  With  woodwork  in  the  loftier,  higher, 
and  lighter,  and  more  expanded  ceilings.  Those  horse-heads  supporting  the  upper  joists  re- 
mind one  of  the  swifter  movement  in  war  as  well  as  in  nomadic  freedom ;  the  swift  retribution 
of  justice  in  the  dominions  of  Cyrus.  They  were  about  as  expanded  as  the  territory  of  the 
United  States.  Yet  it  took  no  more  than  a  hundred  hours  to  deliver  a  message  from  Susa  in 
Sardes  with  1400  miles  between. 

As  Buddhism  sprang  from  Brahmanism,  so  is  Parsism  the  parasite  which  feeds 
upon  Zoroaster's  teachings.  The  Hindoo-"reform"  traveled  to  the  north-east,  the 
innovation  of  the  Parsees  remained  in  its  native  home  of  western  Asia.  The  former 
celebrates  silent  triumphs  upon  the  islands  of  Farther  India,  the  latter  becomes  stale 
in  its  stability  in  the  old  Iranian  home,  with  the  exception  of  the  short  interval  in 
which  the  Sassanides  reacted  against  Nestorianism,  when  those  unfortunate  and 
much  persecuted  heretics  undertook  to  make  Christianity  a  means  of  subjection  on 
their  part.  It  was  these  movements  which  caused  a  new  proclamation  of  the  wis- 
dom of  Zoroaster,  or  rather  the  goodness  of  Ormuzd.  Otherwise  the  Persians  shunned 
to  make  proselytes  to  their  religion  of  universality.    It  was  not  from  indifference, 


n.  B.  Ch.  n.  §  60.  PEESIANS  FIGHT  THE  BAD.  149 

but  because  they  held  their  faith  too  pure  as  tobe  made  a  means  of  conquest  after  Religion  not  to  be  made 
the  fashion  of  Alexander  and  the  Romans.  For  purposes  of  conquest  they  remained  ^^^  "*'*°*  °'  ««*'»'»"«»*• 
honest  enough  to  apply  more  appropriate  measures. 

We  have  discovered  in  what  we  henceforth  call   the   Orient,   a  decided  pro-  Retrospect: 
gress  being  obvious.    Admitting  that  the  eastern  Aryans  in  the  Persian  empire  did  "'"'    "*'*"  ""^ 
not  attain  to  a  higher  culture  than  which  they  enjoyed  at  the  commencement  of 
their  career,  it  is  to  be  deemed     commendable  nevertheless,  that  they  were  the  first 
nation  which  did  not  sink  below  their  starting  point.    After  they  had  signalised  so  Merit  of  Persian 
much  of  an  advance  toward  European  progress,  it  was  not  the  doctrine  of  fighting  fn"iSu® 'worth  «72) 

.-       ,       ,        i-x       2.       _ji*  in  contrast  to  Roman. 

the  bad  which  stopped  it. 

Not  to  be  undervalued  is  the  development  of  manliness  and  of  the  idea  of  individ- 
ual worthiness  in  the  interest  of  which  the  current  of  Persian  life  and  history  ran 
so  favorably,  at  least  up  to  Xerxes  time.  Especially  worth  remembering  is  the  other 
circumstance  that  the  Persians  were  more  deeply  convicted  of  personal  sinfulness,  Deep  conviction 
even  if— in  remarkable  contrast  to  the  fear  of  other  nations  who  had  lost  that  cogni-  ghiFui^ness?* 
tion— the  feeling  and  acknowledgment  of  this  source  of  all  misery  was  taken  with 
surprising  ease.  Sin,  as  viewed  by  the  Persian,  is  not  the  torment  of  existence  ;  it 
is  to  him  but  that  complication  of  affairs  which  causes  the  lusty  fight  between  light 
and  darkness,  from  which  to  shrink  would  be  a  shame.  The  Persian  discounte- 
nances a  whimsical  behavior  and  dismal  mood,  and  that  unavailing,  tho  ever 
so  desperate  attempt  at  self  salvation.    He  avoids  bothering  himself  with  still  Not  to  be  brooded  over 

more  disheartening,  enfeebling  and  useless  theorising  and  brooding  over  the  problem.  tobefXAown^"* "" 
To  the  matter-of-fact  Persian  the  trouble  is  not  with  the  problem  of  the  deep  chasm 
between  nature  and  the  spirit.  This  is,  in  the  opinion  of  the  Zend-Avesta,  not  to  be 
solved  intellectually,  or  to  be  bridged  over  by  throwing  existence  into  it,  as  the 
Hindoo  tries  to  do,  making  suffering  under  the  attempt  the  chief  virtue.  It  is  the 
fight  against  the  bad,  cherished  by  the  Persian,  on  account  of  which  the  sound  of  the 
bugle  fills  him  with  pleasure. 

The  resume  of  eastern  Aryan  culture  was  presented  neither  to  show  the  tensions,  nor  Resume 
for  the  purpose  of  drawing  parallels.     Our  object  was  simply  to  glean  out  the  one  Lm  East-A^yan 
synoptical  thesis,  that  the  Persian  comprehension  of  the  realities  of  this  world  was 
the  proper  complement  to  Indian  idealism.    In  summing  up  the  characteristics  of  s*"^^'*-^«'^"*  *^'>"e*'*- 
the  Asiatic  Aryans  we  find  that  singular  and  most  important  of  all  peculiarities:  4^*divine*conde- 
A  sincere  longing  for  incarnations,  the  intuitive  anticipation  of  divine  condescension  toward  scension  into  the 
the  mundane  realities,  and  the  confidence  originating  therefrom,  that  the  good  will  finally  lead  sfnful^worldf 
off  triumphantly. 

In  India  lie  the  roots  of  the  twelve  chief  languages  of  Europe;  hence  there  as  yet 
stand  the  old  molds  in  which  our  mode  of  thinking  was  cast;  for  the  Sanskrit  of  our 
ancestors,  who  lived  there  only  a  few  hundred  and  odd  generations  ago,  still  represents 
their  wealth  of  speculative  thought,  of  which  the  Europeans  recently  became  the 
chief  explorers  and  gainers.  To  India  we  owe  our  bent  of  mind  more  than  we  are 
aware.  Our  form  of  consciousness,  which  shows  so  great  a  contrast  to,  and  yet  so 
much  affinity  for,  East- Aryan  traits,  does  not  connect  us  any  closer  with  Abraham's  Germanic  traits 
children  than  with  the  hymns  of  the  Rig-veda.  All  the  difference  is,  that  the  one  cognrtlLTasmuc'ras* 
furnished  the  ijiniversal  receptacle  into  which  the  peculiar  contents  of  the  other  were  the  Book'oTGenefis.'' 

to  be  emptied.  Eastern  Aryans 

If  we  want  to  reduce  into  a  formula  that  characteristic  trend  of        Oriental  the  wardens  of 
thought  which  the  Occident  was  only  to  bring  under  the  normative  control  of  reason,  *  rimi1;ive*truth8 
then  its  sum  and  substance  will  be  comprised  and  expressed  in:  L^ho^kahfL^^i.^h^i 

57,  58|  59,  74,  yo,  li5,lufK 

TRANSCENDENTALISM. 

CH-III.    INDO=GERMANS.    OCCIDENT.    LEFT  WING  OF  WESTERN  ARYANS: 
1.    THE  GREEKS. 

§  60.  In  the  observation  of  the  Oriental  branch  of  Aryan  culture  we  spent  two 
chapters.  The  eastern  Aryans  preserved  better  than  the  Turanians  nearly  all  of  what 
was  left  of  primitive  truth.  No  less  will  we  take  care  of  the  good  thus  inherited.  We 
now  turn  our  attention  to  the  west  as  the  Aryans  ever  did,  to  the  countries  into 
which  great  numbers  quietly  migrated  and  had  become  settled,  so  that  by  this  time 
they  formed  a  prosperous  branch  line  of  the  old  noble  house. 


150  EUROPEAN  CULTURE  I  GEOGRAPHICAL  CONDITIONS.        II.  B.  Ch.  III.  §  60. 

In  order  to  avoid  the  erroneous  practice  of  too  much  analysing  and  to  avoid  the  danger 
Contemplation  of  the        of  getting  lost  therein,  let  US  from  the  Start  and  once  for  all  take  that  under  general  topics 
Hamito-Semitic  wedge      which  belongs  together.    In  the  eyes  of  those  who  insist  upon  mere  pragmatic  connections  in 
Western  AryanTto  be        the  series  of  political  transactions  or  geographical  causes  and  effects,  we  will  be  held  liable  to 
postponed.    §  81, 90, 192.  censure.    We  expect  this  in  the  present  instance  for  intentionally  passing  over,  or  rather  post- 
poning, the  observation  to  be  made  upon  the  Semito-Hamitic  culture,  which  to  us  appears  as 
a  wedge  driven  in  between  the  two  halves  of  the  Indo-Germanic  family  circle.    As  long  as  that 
family  is  not  rent  asunder  so  as  to  split  even  its  very  name,  we  will  proceed  upon  the  given 
line  of  thought.    Following  up  its  continuations  we  step  over  upon  European  soil. 

Europe,  using  Peschel's  expression,  is  the  Alpine  peninsula  of  the  Asiatic  main- 
land. Its  articulate  formation,  so  exceedingly  favorable  to  the  development  of  a 
specific  culture,  is  its  own;  but  the  capital  with  which  the  new  plant  of  culture  was 
started,  Europe  owes  to  the  Asistic  mother-country. 

Favorable  situation  of  "^^^  amount  of  coast-lines  and  the   direction  of  the  mountain  ranges,  which   divide 

Europe  for  diversified       Europe  into  a  northern  and  a  southern  part  and  thus  provide  it  with  a  considerable  force  of 
*       *■  polarity,  are  especially  conducive  to  the  most  delicate  differentiation  of  the  social  organism : 

to  the  division  of  labor  as  well  as  to  a  healthy  community  of  interests,  to  cooperation. 

The  European  partition  wall  is  shaped  in  such  a  manner,  that  numerous  valleys  and 

watercourses  facilitate  the  intercourse  of  the    diverse  territories  in  all    directions.    And 

Europe  owes  it  to  its  isothermic  situation  that  its  northern  part  falls  into  the  zone  of  rainy 

winter  seasons. 

From  the  almost  mysterious  highlands  of  the  east  these  prolific  Aryans  immigrated  into, 

and  enjoyed  the  lovely  and  animating  sceneries  of,  the  "wild  west"  with    its  variable  but 

moderate  climate. 

Wa««.  (Basks-viscaya.)  The  first  ID.  motlou  aloug  the  Caucasus,  through  the  puchtas  of  Russia,  and 
toward  the  upper  Danube  seem  to  have  been  the  Wasks.  In  black  clothes,  the  legs 
enwrapped  in  long  strips  of  a  texture  roughly  woven  from  goats  hair,  they  rested 
there  from  their  wanderings  at  the  time  when  glaciers  as  yet  extended  down  to  the 
lake  of  Constance.  At  war  with  the  mammoth,  with  hyenas,  cave-bears  and— lions, 
they  settled  around  the  many  lakes  in  the  first  place.  It  was  not  very  long,  however, 
after  they  had  sought  refuge  from  the  beasts  upon  pilings  in  the  lakes,  that  they  also 
reared  up  cyclopean  walls  for  their  protection.  They  used  stone-weapons,  effective 
enough  to  hunt  the  elenndeer  and  auer-ox;  but  after  a  short  time  they  manufactured 

phenicians  (bronze.)  Irou  weapous  aud  tools,  aud  traded  even  articles  of  bronze  from  the  Phenician  cara- 
vans which  through  wilderness  and  forests,  had  found  their  way  to  these  lake-dwellers. 
—Pushed  by  the  Celts  following  them,  they  left  their  name  to  the  Vosges  mountains 
and  the  Wasgau,  through  which  now  runs  the  very  sensitive  line  dividing  the  modern 

Biscayan  Gulf.  chlldreu  of  the  Gauls  and  Teutons.    They  took  new  abodes  at  the  foot  of  the  Pyre- 

nees where  the  Biscayan  gulf  is  named  after  them,  and  where  their  descendants  have 
dwelt  up  to  present  times.    They  have  kept  up  their  special  nationality  so  that  many 

caiifomian  Basques.  of  the  promlueut  carly  emigrants  of  Mexico  and  California  today  take  pride  in  their 
national  antiquity. 

Q^^^^.  The  Celts,  so  we  suppose,  had  followed  the  Wasks.    Their  druids  and  bards  served 

caiedonjans,  a  Variety  of  gods  and  made  the  blood  of  multitudes  of  captives  flow  in  their  behalf. 

Gauls,  (Druids.)  ./  o  x- 

They  took  their  seats,  many  of  them  only  temporarily  in  Gaul,  went  over  to  the  Hi- 
bernian Isles  which  were  to  become  Great  Britain,  and  settled  in  Ireland  and  Cale- 
domia  for  good.    Some  of  them  went  south  and  took  homesteads  in  Iberia,  which 
Invasion  of  Greece.        af terwards  bccame  Spain,  or  in  northern  Italy,  lUyria  and  Serbia,  from  whence  they 
Founding  of  Gaiata.       luvadcd  Greece,  demolishing  Delphi,  and  proceeded  to  the  conquest  of  Galata.    Long 
years  before    this  a  reflux  of  Aryan  masses  had  preceded  the  Celtic  reflux  through 
the  passes  of  the  Danube.    In  short,  as  a  nation  the  Celts  broke  up  or  were  dispersed 
again  and  again  by  the  heavy  bulk  of  Slavonians  or  by  some  German  tribe,  if  it  was 
not  their  mobile  and  quarrelsome  temper  that  kept  them  roving  about.    For,  as  to 
Improbable  that  eucouuters  betweeu  Celts  and  Slavonians,  the  latter  seem  not  to  have  ever  been  much 

Slavonians  pushed  the 

Celt».  addicted  to  warfare  or  exploits  in  smaller  parties.    Those  Celts  who  remained  to- 

gether on  French  and  English  territory  were  mere  remnants  of  the  original  bands 
of  immigrants.  And  since  history  meets  them  everywhere,  besides  their  present 
countries,  it  is  most  likely  that  some  of  them,  living  in  Spain  at  the  time,  were 
under  Marmaiu  amoug  these  enigmatical  forty  thousand  who,  under  Marmaiu,  broke  into  iEgypt 

tovading'Sypt.  3  85.  wheu  Memephtah  was  Pharaoh— a  century  or  two  before  the  Trojan  war  and  a  century 
after  Moses. 


§31. 


Lake-dwellers. 


Hibernian« 


n.  B.  CH.  n.  §  60.     GERMAN  TRIBES  I  NORMANS  "PLOUGHING  THE  WATERS."  151 

After  the  Celts  came  the  Slavs.    Under  the  names  of  Sarmatians,  Sorbes,  Wenes  Slavs 
or  Wends  (Vandals),  those  "excellent  fellows"  spread  over  eastern  Europe  simply  to  sYmpi^y^Äy^thereand 
keep  it,  and  to  stay  there.    Comparative  investigation  of  the  myths  has  ascertained  ^^^^  '*' 
that  concerning  folk-lore  the  place  of  honor  next  to  the  Vedas  is  tobe  ascribed  to  the  Their  foik-iove  second 

.  ,     iT   •.!  I         «    j^i  only  to  that  of  pristine 

Slavs.    After  many  wanderings  hither  and  thither  crowds  of  them  pressed  onward  Hindooism.         §  ni. 
and  became  masters  of  Bosnia,  Serbia,  Dalmatia,  and  Bulgaria.  They  wrested  eastern  Russia. 
Germany  and  large  parcels  of  western  Russia  from  the  Sorbes.  They  made  the  Wends  §  ^^s«  ^^^'  i^^- 

move  to  (V-)Andalusia;  and  the  proudest  of  them  called  themselves  Poles  and  Tszechs  ^endes,  vandais, 
in  their  new  homes.    The  largest  part  of  Russia  had  been  theirs  already— we  would 
say,  was  their  property,  if  it  had  not  been  for  their  being  communists  and,  anticipa-  communists  as  to 

_  ,,,,..  .»,jj  -.^T .  i ,        ,        private  possession  of 

ting  Henry  George,  were  opposed  to  the  private  possession  of  real  estate.  With  the  land,  henrv  georok. 
neighboring  Mongolians  they  did  not  mingle ;  altho  they  accepted  from  them  the 
name  of  Bog  for  their  deity. 

In  the  mean  time  the  Germans  had  made  their  appearance.      They  contented  Germans 
themselves  with  the  interior  and  secluded  parts  of  Europe,  taking  possession  of  its 
heart,  as  it  were.    Their  settlement  extended  from  the  Vistula  to  the  Vosges  moun- 
tains and  from  the  Baltic  and  the  North  Sea  to  the  Danube,  until  the  Slavonians 
crowded  upon  them  and  pushed  them  even  deeper  into  the  forests  of  Germany  beyond 
the  Elbe  river.    They  populated  the  low-lands  of  the  Rhine  and,  exchanging  the  oar  ^"ächangethe*'"ar*f^® 
for  the  plough,  they  "ploughed"  the  sea  for  the  first  time,  roaming  over  to  Scandi-  p'Joug&e^Ä  seas 
navia  or  landing  in  England.     As  Kimbri,  Teutons,  Goths  and  Franks,  as  Saxons  Normans, 
and  Longobards,  Thuringians  and  Kattes,  Allemanes— after  whom  the  French  named  Their  chief  tribes. 
the  Germans— and  Marcomani,  Hermundurians  and  Herulians,  Cheruskians  and 
Sigambrians,  as  Swedes  and  Swiss,  they  again  and  again  swept  down  upon  their 
southern  neighbors  in  a  most  provoking  manner.    All  these  people  will  in  due  time 
come  under  our  consideration  as  "the"  historic  nation.    At  present  we  limit  ourselves  "  thb  "  historic  nation. 
to  the  south-western  Aryans  in  Greece  and  Rome,  just  as  in  Asia  the  southerners  came 
first  into  historic  significance. 

Parts  of  southern  Europe  had  been  covered  by  streams  of  earlier  immigrants :  Southern 
by  the  various  Greek  tribes,  the  Albanese,  Etruscans,  and  Italics.     These  at  any  rate  Europeans, 

emerge  earlier  than  any  other  Europeans  of  whom  we  know  from  the  mist  of  prehis- 
toric ages.  Naturally  the  Balkan  peninsula,  being  nearest  to  Asia,  came  first  to  the 
notice  of  history. 

The  earliest  settlers  spoken  of  in  Greece  were  the  Pelasgians  and,  tho  of  less  peiasgian«. 
consequence,  the  Lelegians.    It  seems  that  a  constant  dread  of  barbaric  invasions 
had  become  almost  hereditary  with  these  old  residents,  who  were  somewhat  advanc- 
ed and  lived  in  comfortable  circumstances. 

Only  recently  De  GcBJe  has  shown  this  habitual  worry  and  anticipation  of  danger,  arrang- 
ing clusters  of  legends  relating  to  the  times  of  migratory  movements.     As  it  is  generally  the 
case  with  tell-tales  that  the  elements  of  truth  contained  in  them  are  mixed  with  fiction,  so  the  Fear  of  Asiatic     raids, 
analysis  of  De  Goeje  proved  the  fact  that  the  legends  had  mixed  up  Alexander's  expeditions  bfos'^GoEJE?"*  ^*^*'''*^^ 
with  the  much  later  reports  about  the  building  of  the  Chinese  wall.     It  was  believed  that  the 
Great  Macedonian  had  closed  the  inroads  of  further  invasions  from  Central- Asia  by  raising  Hearsay  of  the  Chinese 
iron  gates  on  the  Taxartes  against  the  hordes  of  the  Gobi.     The  nuclei  of  truth  handed  down  ^^^'-  §  ^*'  ^^'  ^^*^- 

in  those  legends  have  a  bearing  on  the  supposition  that  there  had  always  been  connected  with 
the  faint  memory  of  the  Alpine  regions  of  Pamir  not  only  a  certain  anxiety  as  to  dangers 
threatening  from  thence,  but  also  a  melancholy,  retrospective  yearning  after  the  scenes  of 
childhood  in  the  far  distant  old  home. 

In  the  time,  however,  at  which  we  now  arrive,  that  Pelasgian  period  of  fretf ul- 
ness  was  far  behind,  in  which  the  pioneers  had  built  the  cyclopian  bulwarks  against 
the  rough  and  obtrusive  mountaineers  of  the  north.  The  hilarious  people  with  whom 
we  now  come  to  converse  knew  no  longer  any  fear  of  which  their  forefathers  had 
been  afraid. 

It  would  have  been  impossible  to  put  a  nation  better  fitted  than  the  congenial  Hellenes 
Hellenes  for  the  various  forms  of  intercourse  into  the  center  of  the  world's  traffic.  Josuion  ^the^^worids 
Soon  after  they  had  colonised  the  nearer  islands  they  became  intrepid  navigators  ^^^''' 
and  ingenious  organisers  of  self-governing  districts  and  towns.    Strong  and  clever, 
liberty-loving  and  law-abiding,  endowed  with  a  rich  mind,  and  entrusted  with  one 
of  the  prettiest  spots  on  the  face  of  earth,  they  could  not  help  becoming  one  of  the 
most  amiable,  bouyant,  wellbalanced,  and  susceptible  races  known  to  history.    Keen 


152 


Talent  of  the  Greeks: 
for  appropriating 
systeinatising,  and 
distributing  the 
experiences  and 
thoughts  of 
ancient  cultures. 


Their  "  antique  "  of  so 
recent  times  as  to  be 
almost  our  own. 

Excavations  near 
Thebes. 


Oriental  basis  of 
Hellenic  culture. 


Cult  of  Melcart-Heracles. 


Hittite  culture. 
Von  Luschau. 


Rites  transplanted 
from  Babylon  to 
Dodona. 


Colonies : 

Great  Greece— Paestum. 


Cyrenae  in  Africa 
stopping  Egyptian 
slave-hunting. 


Trade  with  Britons.  $76. 


Syracuse ; 

first  encounter  with 

Punic  avidity. 


Civil  liberty  a 
new  phenomenon 


•side  of  slavery. 


HELLENES,  ''GREAT  GREECE."  11  B.  CH.  m.  §  60. 

observers,  they  gathered  and  appropriated  to  themselves  the  most  valuable  substance 
of  the  wealth  which,  under  strife  and  labor,  under  bitter  deprivations  and  a  thousand 
hard  earned  experiences,  had  been  accumulated  by  all  the  old  nations  around  them. 
And  the  Hellenes  enriched,  condensed,  and  comprehensively  arranged  these  treasures 
and  in  turn  communicated  them  to  those  nations  with  whom  their  teachers  or 
their  writings  ever  came  in  contact. 

Ancient  history,  as  hitherto  it  has  been  called,  is  comparatively  modern ;  it  is,  we  may 
say,  almost  our  own.    Yet  what  we  know  of  it  we  only  can  deduce  from  fragments  and  ruins. 

Recently  the  old  sanctuary  of  the  Kabiries,  mentioned  by  Pausanias,  was  discovered  near 
Thebes  and  excavated.  On  the  spot  where  in  Macedonian  times  the  temple  area  had  been  ex- 
tended by  filling  in  earth  and  dumpings,  a  heap  of  rubbish  was  struck  upon,  which  contained 
numerous  objects  of  bronze,  lead,  and  terra  cotta.  They  were  mutilated  and  hence  had 
been  thrown  away.  They  now  become  highly  appreciated  as  souvenirs  of  great  value,  because 
useful  as  object  lessons  in  the  study  of  the  history  of  culture.  In  such  a  manner  the  relics  of 
ancient  handicraft,  once  thrown  away  as  useless  by  building  and  destroying  nations  and 

sunk  to  the  bottom  of  the  river  of  time,  become  now  in  their  most  minute  details 
elevated  to  the  rank  of  documentary  evidence.  Thanks  to  them  we  are  enabled  to  reconstruct 
phases  of  public  and  private  life  and  forms  of  cultures  which  have  perished  long  ago— and  to 
read  off  them  the  signs  of  moral  decline,  perhaps,  which  caused  the  collapse  of  these  cultures. 
Ours  is  the  age  of  gathering  up  the  vestiges,  especially  in  old  Greece.  When  properly  arranged 
they  will  tell  true  tales  carrying  along  with  them  their  own  interpretations. 

Hellas  was  hemmed  in,  and  of  course  influenced,  too,  by  Phenician  and  ^Egypt- 
ian  culture.  The  many  objects  brought  out  of  the  tombs  behind  the  lion-gate  at 
MykensB,  ornaments  of  the  Assyro-Babylonian  style  as  well  as  the  idols  made  of 
burned  clay,  have  once  been  imported  there  through  the  agencies  of  the  Phenicians 
or  of  the  Hittites.  Things  of  the  same  kind  have  been  unearthed  upon  the  coasts  of 
Greece  as  well  as  upon  the  ^gean  islands,  upon  Rhodes,  Crete,  and  Cyprus.  The 
Tyrian  Melkart  had  his  altars  not  only  in  the  colonies  of  the  "Philistines"  in  Gades 
near  the  "pillars  of  Hercules,"  on  the  Guadalquivir,  upon  Madeira  and  the  Canary 
Islands,  but  the  cult  of  that  Melkart  had  also  been  introduced  in  Greece,  where  he 
became  the  favorite  of  the  nation  under  the  name  of  Heracles. 

Von  Luschau  has  made  the  Hittite  antiquities  accessible,  enabling  us  at  last  to  form  a 
tolerable  satisfactory  conception  of  the  great  empire  of  the  Keta,  the  chief  enemies  of  the 
Pharaohs.  They  undoubtedly  wielded  a  decisive  influence  upon  Hellenic  culture.  The  Keta 
transplanted  old  Assyrian  culture  upon  classic  soil,  and  together  with  the  fashions  trans- 
mitted religious  rites  from  Babylon  to  Dodona. 

The  Greeks,  rather  friends  than  rivals  of  the  Philistines,  imitated  them  by  dotting  many 
parts  of  the  Mediterranean  shore  with  their  colonies.  The  .äJgeans  were  the  first  to  take  a 
foothold  in  southern  Italy.  After  they  had  experimented  with  organising  petty  but  vigorous 
states  in  Kroton  and  Sybaris,  they  spread  out  into  the  confederacy  of  'Great  Greece"  with  its  cen- 
ter in  the  pillared  temple  at  Psestum.  On  the  northern  coast  of  Africa  a  band  of  Greek  adven- 
venturers  nestled  into  the  crevices  of  the  gulf  of  Bomba,  and  soon  the  fort  of  Cyrenae  became 
the  headquarter  for  Hellenic  culture  in  Africa.  Sprouts  of  that  colony  took  root  in  the  in- 
terior of  Libya  even,  took  tribute  from  the  sons  of  the  desert,  and  as  in  recompense  to  such 
tribute  checked  for  ever  the  annual  raids  made  by  the  .SJgyptians  into  these  parts  in  order  to 
catch  slaves. 

In  Gaul,  at  the  mouth  of  the  Rhone  and  further  up  the  river,  the  Phocseans  founded 
staple-places  of  merchandise  and  built  roads  through  France  by  which  to  reach  the  North-Sea 
and  to  visit  the  Britons.  They  spread  over  northern  Italy  and  over  Spain.  Syracuse,  founded 
by  Corinthian  traders,  had  over  a  million  inhabitants  already,  when  Rome  in  Cincinnatus' 
time  was  as  yet  struggling  to  hold  its  own  as  a  mere  town.  This  Greek  Republic  was  then  al- 
ready powerful  enough  to  enter  into  leagues  with  Hamilcar  and  with  Xerxes.  And  from 
Syracuse,  the  free  state  when  Rome  as  yet  was  ruled  by  mythical  petty  kings,  Greek  ideas  and 
tastes  were  disseminated.  Syracuse  was  first  in  defying  Punic  avidity,  in  showing  Athens  its 
independence  and  Rome  its  skill  in  diplomacy. 

Greek  daring  not  only  bound  together  the  people  dwelling  upon  the  Mediterranean 
shores,  and  defended  their  liberty,  or  liberated  minor  nations  round  about;  but  also  pushed 
forward  from  Taurus  (the  Krimean  peninsula)  up  the  Don  river  into  Scythia  and  to  the 
regions  of  the  Volga.  From  Kolchis  upward  to  the  Caucasian  valleys  the  Greeks  made  gold- 
washing  Scythians  their  subjects. 

We  have  marked  out  the  compass  of  Greek  influence  as  far  as  colonial  politics 
are  concerned.  In  the  mean  time  civil  liberty  developed  in  the  mother-country, 
which  to  history,  up  to  that  time,  is  an  entirely  new  phenomenon.  This  liberty  grew 
up  from  the  old  Hellenic  institutions,  which  were  of  a  more  religious  than  political 
nature.  Slavery,  however,  as  a  measure  of  humanitarianism  mixed  with  principles 
of  utility,  seemed  to  Greeks,  of  course,  not  inconsistent  with  their  idea  of  free- 
dom.   To  uphold  this  liberty  they  simply  discountenanced  a  centralised  power  of 


II.  B.  CH.  III.  §  61.  GENESIS  OF    CIVIL  LIBERTY.  ^63 

government — that  very  centralisation  which,  after  Guizot,  has  been  considered  for  a 
long  time  even  as  the  acme  of  civilisation.    The  Greek  idea  of  liberty  would  permit  centrau  »«on  o* 
of  no  more  consolidation  of  political  power  than  the  formation  of  confederacies  by  dis'c^ou^nlncfd]^*' 
cities  and,  what  we  would  call,  counties.    Sometimes  members  of  such  associations 
succeeded  in  establishing  hegemonies  whenever  the  circumstances  demanded  that  a 
city,  enjoying  the  greatest  amount  of  prestige,  should  take  the  lead  and  the  responsi- 
bility in  the  management  of        common  affairs  on  land  and  water.    On  other  occa- 
sions communities  with  private  interests  in  common  would  unite  to  form  states  on  a  SdÄluteÄ^kJ 
small  scale,  with  well  defined  constitutional  rights,  however,  and  with  a  regular  sys-  confederacy. 
tern  of  taxation  and  a  common  treasury. 

§  61.    By  the  rational  method  of  civic  and  specific  organisation  (appropriate  to 
the  particular  quarters  of  each  clan,  and  yet  adjustable  to  an  occasional  confedera- 
tion), the  idea  of  liberty  became  realised  in  a  degree  unthought  of  before.    It  was 
appreciated,  cultivated,  watchfully  guarded,  and  held  the  more  precious  in  the  meas- 
ure as  the  arbitrary  and  random  management  of  public  affairs  under  "tyrannois"  and 
oligarchies   threatened  to  become  a  standing  menace  to  peace  and  prosperity.    But 
as  to  the  genesis  of  this  new  form  of  social  progress,  it  can  be  shown,  how  it  was 
simplytheresultof  thought  delivering  the  mind  from  the  bondage  of  nature.    It 
was  Eudoxus  who  broke  the  fetters  by  which  the  stars  had  been  imagined  to  enchain  scientific  thought 
human  existence.    Man  and  his  fate  were  freed  from  planetary  powers  by  his  demon-  f^SnatuTe-bound 
strative  reasonings.    Upon  Eudoxus'  premises  Greece  did  not  gradually  obtain  free- 
dom as  such  ;  but  to  begin  with,  it  was  sufficient  that, man's  position  in  the  visible  I'ree  position 
universe  being  established,  a  free  position  was  also  gained  for  him  in  the  state,  in  his  no  longer  uWr 

.  J  J     X-  "planetary  rule.'' 

social  rights  and  duties. 

Ever  since  the  Ionic  school  began  to  investigate  the  nature  of  things,  the  Greek  mind  ionic  school  seeks  after 
endeavored  to  find,  and  by  degrees  did  arrive  at,  the  apprehension  of  a  reason  in  things.  That  *^®  reason  in  things. 
mind  commences  to  philosophise  even  upon  its  own  functions,that  is,it  superintends  the  process 
in  which,  and  the  conditions  under  which,  rational  concepts  and  logical  conclusions  are 
wrought  within.     It  learns  to  discriminate  between  an  idea  and  a  substance.     In  those  free  Beginnings  of 
commonwealths,  where  no  monarch  could  make  religion  the  means  of  holding  masses  in  sub-  epistemology. 
jection,  and  shaping  doctrines  to  suit  his  designs ;  where  religion  was  free  and  a  matter  of 
personal  right  and  sentiment,  of  reason  and  private  judgment — the  thinkers,  reluctantly  at 
first,  began  to  meditate  upon  the  intuitionally  and  traditionally  inherited  reminiscences  of 
God-consciousness.    They  speculated  upon  the  transcendental  axioms,  which  surpass  nature- 
bound  consciousness.  In  a  thorough  manner  they  searched  the  innermost  mysteries  of  human 
nature  or  personal  life,  which,  tho  beyond  space  and  time,  are  yet  indelibly  engraven  into  the  Attempt  to  analyst  the 
mind  and  ever  manifest  themselves  as  realities  in  every  human  being  alike.  It  was  found  that  the  mind. 
these  mysteries  of  the  inner  life  are  realities,  because,   as  thus    early    it    was    argued,  they 
manifest  themselves  in  such  a  manner  that  the  very  attempts  of  psychological  anatomists  to 
render  them  unreal  and  ridiculous  proved  to  be  self  evident. 

The  Hellenes  upon  their  long  coasting  expeditions  or  at  home  in  the  stone  castles  of  origin  and  growth  of 
their  Pelasgian  ancestors  amused  themselves  with  trying  their  hand  at  metaphysics,  that  is,   Greek  mythology 
with  coi/struing  the  old  traditions  and  intuitional  reminiscences  spoken  of,  into  pleasant 
deities.    Dev,  the  shining  one,  is  translated  into  Dius-pater ;  he  is  imagined  as  identical  with 
el,  bei,  helios,  that  is  with  the  light-bearing,  or  the  bright-shining  god— and  with  the  father 
of  the  bright,  namely  with  the  father  of  the  Hellenes.    Thus  Zeus  is  before  the  mind ;  some- 
thing innate  to  it  is  objectivised;  it  is  blended  with  sense-impressions,  and— the  personifica-  Zeus,  a 
tion  of  Zeus  as  well  as  of  Jupiter  is  complete.    He  is  a  reflection  of  consciousness,  formed  ^^^  mind?    °"  ° 
without  asking  epistemology  for  its  consent. 

Then  Pallas,  the  blue  sky,  was  made  coordinate  with  Zeus.  In  the  story  about  Apollo  kill- 
ing the  dragon,  as  well  as  in  those  of  giants  fought  and  subdued,  we  hear  the  dim  distant  echo  Apollo  killing  the 


of  that  war  between  the  light  and  the  night  which  pervades  the  legends  of  Iran,  and  which  is  "f'l^f''",'^'^™''?" 

at  the  bottom  of  almost  all  the  ancient  stories  illustrating  life's  conflicts,  ever  since  the  broth-  fight  between  light  and 

ers  Iran  and  Turan  hated  each  other  enough  to  separate,  darkness. 

Certainly,  the  inadvertent,  unsophisticated  self  projection  of  the  mind  in  the  attempt  to 
understand  itself  and  to  explain  its  contents  to  some  degree  of  satisfaction,  was  prettier  and 
more  human-like,  than  the  objectivisations  of  the  Bad  by  way  of  an  artless  excuse  or  a  sort 
of  self  absolution ;  more  worthy  of  the  mind  itself,  than  the  method  of  rendering  the  feeling 
of  guilt  into  a  fear  of  demons,  and  then  the  very  dread  into  a  cult  to  pacify  the  demons  with 
the  devilish  devices  found  at  the  bottom  of  Mongolian  consciousness. 

Be  it  remembered,  that  the  Greeks  on  the  whole  never  identified  the  symbols  of  these  re- 
flections with  the  ideas  themselves.     All  they  wanted  was  thus  to  express  in  some  adequate  represent^the 
manner  their  conviction  as  to  the  reality  of   their  ideals.     Not  until  thought  had  become  reality  of  ideals, 
materialistic,  sequent  to  the  perversion  of  moral  sentiment  into  sensualism,  did  one  part  of  the 
Hellenic  nation  become  idolators  and  the  other  scoffers. 


154 


Gods  symbolise 

differentiation 
of  world- 
consciousness, 

arrangment  of  relations 
and  reflections  under 
groups  of  generalisation. 


Centers  of 
cohesion ; 
§  42,  44,  74,  75,  79. 
114,  133,  171. 
which  conscious- 
ness cannot  give 
up  without 
abandoning' 
itself. 


1.  Center: 

Olympian  Pantheon 
the  ideal  house  of 
representatives. 


Homer  and  Heslod 
no  longer  understood. 


Religion  popularised 
but  lowered  by 
materialism. 


Element  of  the  trurh 
that  fear  in  religion  is 
unprofitable. 


Reforms 
contempo- 
raneous with 
Buddhism  and 
revival  of 
Zoroastrian 
cognitions.      §  64. 

2.  Center  of  cohesion. 
Delphi,  the  central 
sanctuary: 


Solon. 


Herodot. 


GREEK  MYTHOLOGY.  II.  B.  Ch.  XU.  §  62. 

At  those  times  of  incipient  mythology  the  conflicts  were  all  taken  as  very  real, 
religiously  as  well  as  politically;  for  religion  and  politics  were  held  to  be  identical 
to  such  an  extent  that  a  temple  was  in  the  ancient  art  of  warfare  of  the  same  signifi- 
cance which  we  used  to  ascribe  to  a  fortified  city.  The  worldly  relations  were  then 
not  considered  quite  as  profane  and  as  sharply  excluded  from  religious  tenets  as  in 
later  periods.  What  was  thought  and  done  was  considered  worthy  of  being  done  in 
real  good  earnest.  As  relations  and  reflections  became  more  complicated  and  in- 
creased differentiations,  they  were  attached  to  particular  gods  so  as  to  guard  these 
growing  complications  against  baneful  confusion.  Thus  the  gods  multiplied.  Their 
growth  in  number  was  unavoidable,  as  each  additional  deity  represented  a  new 
group  of  abstracted  generalisations  in  the  concrete.  For  under  such  circumstances  the 
mind  becomes  ever  more  depressed  with  the  necessity  to  preserve  the  unity  of  cogni- 
tion with  the  reality  underlying  the  recognitions,  which  consciousness  cannot 
abandon  without  giving  up  itself.  To  save  itself  from  complete  derangement  the 
mind  could  take  no  other  hold  upon  the  principles  of  social  existence  than  by  classi- 
fying real  things  under  general  topics.  JVe  have  agreed  before  that  the  mind  needs 
centers  of  cohesion  since  it  refuses  to  altogether  lose  itself  into  the  distractions  of 
the  manifold. 

During  the  time  in  which  the  composition  of  Greek  mythology  from  intuitions  and  tra- 
ditions, from  folk-lore  and  fiction  proceeded  among  the  Pelasgians,  they  had  become  Hel- 
lenes. Further  on  particular  clans  secured  more  or  less  selfhood  whereby  the  creative  process 
of  mythical  religiousness  underwent  modifications  adequate  to  the  demand  of  the  particular 
tribes  for  the  recognition  of  their  favorite  gods.  The  old  custom  of  each  nation  having  its 
own  national  god  caused  an  analysis  of  the  imagination  as  to  the  deities  so  far  in  authority. 
Their  attributes  were  rearranged  and  exchanged.  Thus  the  court  upon  the  Olympus,  which  in 
fact  may  be  considered  as  an  ideal  house  of  representatives,  increased  in  proportion  to  the 
splits  of  the  nation  into  proud  little  states. 

This  high  college  of  particular  gods  for  the  diverse  national  sections  was  to  represent  the 
individuality  and  versatility  of  the  Greek  mind  as  well  as  to  foster  the  unity  of  the  nation  and 
the  sacredness,  objectivity  and  authority  of  social  duties.  It  was  unavoidable  and  can  not  be 
denied,  that  the  Olympian  pantheon  assumed  a  polytheistical  character.  But  this  occured  a 
long  time  after  Homer  and  Hesiod,  when  the  deep  truths  and  fine  sentiments  embodied  in 
their  quasi-system  wereunderstood  no  longer  by  a  nation  which  suddenly,  we  may  say,  became 
superficial,  conventional,  pleasure-seeking  and  pain-avoiding,  sensual  in  practice  and  materi- 
alistic in  theory.  It  was  only  then  that  the  gods  were  either  taken  as  coarsely  material  or  made 
fun  of. 

Under  such  circumstances  it  was  but  natural  that  the  apperceptions  of  divine  severity 
should  be  remodeled.  Religion,  people  ever  say,  must  be  upheld.  But  if  this  upholding  is 
made  a  matter  of  expediency  in  order  to  retain  popularity,  then  people  say,  religion  must 
come  down  to  the  level  of  the  intellectual  capacity  of  the  public,  it  must  be  popularised. 

Hence  it  occurred  in  Greece,  that  aesthetics  and  religion  became  merged,  and  that  sensual- 
ism, once  made  sesthetical,  came  to  be  esteemed  such  a  substitute  for  religion  as  would  "draw 
the  masses."  The  higher  realities,  the  old  fashioned  devoutness  were  thus  accommodated  to 
lower  views  of  life,  and  to  levity.  The  gods  were  shaped  after  the  image  of  man,  first  of  an 
ideal  man,  now  of  sunken  men.  And  they  were  believed  to  have  come  down  to  the  level  of 
public  opinion  accordingly.  Man  could  not  help  but  feel  a  little  bigger  since  he  stood  on  terms 
so  familiar  with  the  gods.  The  true  element  in  the  feeling  of  the  Greek  mind  was,  that  fear- 
ing the  gods  would  improve  neither  piety,  ethics,  nor  aesthetics.  That  feeling  was  the  more 
true,  since  nobody  can  love  a  subjective  abstraction,  much  less  fear  a  selfmade  ideal  with  a 
few  weaker  spots  than  the  maker  admits  of  himself. 

§  62.  The  Greek  innovations  in  the  line  of  God-consciousness  transpired  con- 
temporaneously with  those  attempts  made  in  India  to  reinstate  the  Vedic  religion  in 
popularity;  contemporaneously  also  with  the  new  applications  made  of  Zoroaster's 
old  Iranic  tradition.  It  was  about  600  B.  C.  that  under  Dorian  influences  this  awaken- 
ing of  a  profound  interest  in  religion  took  place  in  Greece.  Delphi,  by  silent  consent, 
became  the  center  and  main-stay  of  conservative  faith.  Solon's  legislation,  which 
brought  about  a  beneficient  reorganisation  in  Athens,  would  have  been  impossible, 
had  it  not  been  for  this  general  movement  in  the  religious  world.  As  it  was,  not  even 
Attica  could  escape  the  acknowledgement  of  the  gods  as  ethical  powers.  The  oscilla- 
tions of  this  revival  continued  to  the  time  when  Jj]gyptian  influences  where  allowed 
to  creep  into  the  Greek  combination  of  ideas. 

Some  sophists  blamed  Herodot  for  thus  aiding  the  corruption  of  Greek  mythology. 
But  from  all  indications  we  are  inclined  to  think  that  the  ethical  tendency  continued  to  pre- 
vail over  a  stiff  allegiance  to  particular  gods  until  Hesiod  was  calumniated  for  composing 


n.  B.  Ch.  III.  §  62.  MERITS  OF  GREEK  THOUGHT.  155 

his  physico-philosophical  poetry.    He  was  accused  of  intentionally  having  made  the  Greeks  Hesiod's  views  put  to 
believe  that  the  g:ods  were  corporeal  persons.      Such  raw  opinions  of  their  own  the  dema-  "   *'"  ^' 
gogues  of  that  time  imputed  to  Hesiod's  "theogony",  in  order  to  decry  theosophy  asasetof 
old  superstitions.    The  sincerity  of  ancestral  piety  once  undermined  by  such  misrepresenta- 
tions, it  was  an  easy  matter  for  moralising  materialists  as  Protagoras  and  Heracleitos  to  boast  Undermining  religion. 
of  having  sought  the  god  in  vain,  despite  the  proper  experimenting  and  anatomising,      so  *  ^• 

that  finally  they  could  glory  in  the  overthrow  of  the  puppets  of  their  own  invention. 

True  as  it  is  that  Hesiod's  political  and  parabolic  religion  was  a  harmonistic  and  sub- 
jectivistic  playing  with  the  gods,  equally  true  is  it  that  the  popular  apperceptions  of  the  gods, 
the  intelligent  as  well  as  the  vulgar  mind-presentations  of  the  divine,  were  not  disturbed 
thereby.  It  was  only  after  misconstrued  conceptions  of  those  "centers  of  cohesion"  were 
made  the  themes  of  plays  and  songs,  that  scepticism  and  licentiousness  missed  no  chance  to 
treat  everything  sacred  with  contemptuous  sneers. 

Like  forest  trees  in  their  primitive  home,  had  the  god-ideals  prospered  in  ances- 
tral times.  It  was  a  pleasure  to  be  religious  in  idyllic  life.  A  poetical  contentment 
could  be  drawn  from  the  ideals  when  the  sky  above  was  serene,  and  when  certain 
inner«  longings  of  each  could  be  gratified  just  as  it  suited  him.  Thus  Hesiod  had 
succeeded  in  deepening  the  interest  of  the  Hellenes  in  their  world  of  deities.  With 
the  help  of  foreign  and  native  legends  he  had  generalised  and  internally  connected 
the  ideals  so  as  to  represent  truths  by  intelligible  personifications.  This  is  to  be  un-  »ThJ^'^**'?. 
derstood  by  "the  theogony"  of  Hesiod.  It  was  a  profound  exegesis  of  ethical  ideals; 
and  their  harmonising  with  intuitional  and  traditional  facts  and  truths  in  forms  of 
human  analogies,  was  certainly  the  most  appropriate  method  of  presenting  them. 
Viewed  from  this  standpoint  the  writings  of  the  thinkers  in  the  earlier  times  desig- 
nate an  improvement,  which  to  a  large  extent  the  Greeks  owed  to  Hesiod. 

As  a  most  remarkable  circumstance— the  other  coincident  of  Greek  with  Asiatic  ä^g^c*^*^^"' 
life  maybe  emphasised,  that  this  elevation  of  the  gods  from  mere  emblems  of  the      §57,76,124,127^133, 
phases  of  nature  to  personifications  of  ethical  concepts  caused  a  decided  advance  along 
the  whole  line  of  Greek  life.    For  concerning  religious  thought  as  well  as  secular 
events  Asia  was  deeply  affected  by  a  similar  and  simultaneous  epochal  commotion, 
indicated  by  the  names  of  Daniel,  Gautama,  Nebucadnezar,  Cyrus,  etc. 

Herodot  said,  that  "Hesiod  as  much  as  Homer  prompted  the  Greeks  by  the  theogony 
of  their  personified  gods  to  respect  their  dignity  and  to  appreciate  their  services."  This 
by  the  way,  is  all  that  Herodot  meant,  instead  of  having  said,  as  he  is  often  quoted,  that 
those  old  sages  had  created  the  Gods. 

Speaking  of  Hesiod,  we  beg  leave  to  bring  out  a  feature  of  his  teachings,  which  has  not  Farming  especi- 
received  the  appreciation  it  deserves.  We  refer  to  his  wisdom  in  praising  labor  as  honorable,  ally  honorable, 
especially  field  labor— which  has  ever  been  a  cardinal  point  of  merit  with  the  Aryans  in  ^  ^^^'  ^^^'  ^^^" 

general. 

Hesiod  thus  addresses  his  brother:  "Without  sweat,  O  Perses,  no  quality,  no  distinctiom  is  Hesiod's 
tobe  obtained.    Work  is  pleasing  to  the  gods,  and  none  needs  be  ashamed  of  it.   Only  honest  "  Works  and  days." 
gain  secures  prosperity." 

In  the  "Days  and  Works"  of  Hesiod  the  idea  is  put  forth  everywhere  that  "it  is  by  will  "Order"  of  labor 
of  the  gods  that  seasons  were  so  arranged,  as  to  have  a  special  time  assigned  for  each  kind  of  conditioning   lessmgs. 
labor  and  to  bless  each  in  this  order." 

Cheiron,  seated  in  his  grotto  on  mount  Pelion,  instructed  Achilles  from  a  work  which  is 
lost,  in  wise  deeds  and  proper  service,lipon  a  basis  of  similar  maxims.  The  German  Middle-age 
seems  to  have  understood  what  the  Greeks  had  hinted  at.  The  Germans  praised  them  for 
principles  combining  "service  with  nobility" (noblesse  oblige),  and  incorporated  those  senti- 
ments in  their  "Ritter  spiegel"  i.  e.,  in  the  rules  of  chivalry. 

Another  merit  is  due  to  the  Greek  mind.    We  admire  its  progress  of  inner  assimi-  Merits  of 
lation.    At  first,  the  many  Gods  were  taken  as  concrete  entities,  really  subsisting  in       ^^^      °"^ 
the  world,  altho  described  as  transcendental  powers.    Subsequently  they  were  trans- 
formed into  idealities  but  anthropomorphised,  so  as  to  render  their  immanency  in  the 
world  real  and  conceivable.    We  may  well  accredit  to  the  Greek  mind  not  only  the  ^t^^^^'n^^l^d"" 
preservation  of  the  true  element  in  Hindoo-transcendentalism,  but  also  their  combin-  dentaiism 

ing  this  idealism  with  that  true  realism  which  the  Hindoos  had  sacrificed.    Avoiding  with  reaiut^ic ' 
this  error  the  Greeks  rescued  personality  from  being  dissolved  into  natural  general-  i™™a"®"<'y- 
ness  or  pantheistical  all-the-sameness. 

§  63.    The  gods  were  conceived  as  immanent  in  the  world,  real  and  alive.    The  what  Greek  art  reveate: 
serenity  of  the  Greek  consciousness,  expressing   itself  in  the  unique  and  august  0;^;^«  immanenc  in 
creations  of  art,  was  the  result  of  this  habit  of  thinking.    This  serenity  consists  in  nature. 
the  complete  satisfaction  which  nature  affords  to  all  reasonable  desires  in  proportion 

IS 


156 


GKEEK  SELFCOMPLACENCY. 


n.  B.  ch.  m.  §  63. 


Search  after  equanimity. 
§  37,  42,  43. 


Artificial 
appeasement  of 
guilt: 


Persian  trait  in 
Greek  character. 


Dual  nature  of  man, 
wherein  the  bad  is  not 
an  essential  constituent 
element. 

Wisdom  in 
adjusting: 
conduct  to 
circumstances 
is  the 
gist  of 
Greek  ethics. 


Unconcern  as  to  the 
bad.  lest  equanimity 
be  disturbed. 


Fate  holds  the  scales,  is 
therefore  not  to  be 
feared. 


Laokoon  an 
exceptional 
specimen  of 
Greek  art. 


Comparison  between 

Hellenistic  and 
Romantic  art. 

§i; 


Artful  unnaturalness, 

against 

unaifected  single- 
heartedness, 
harmonious  union  of 
spirit  and  nature  in 
real  life. 


Real  existence 
and  final  destiny 
conciliated. 

§  64,  91,  123,  139, 
147,  152,  158. 


Geographical  influences 


to  the  measure  limiting  each.  It  is  in  this  sphere  that  calm  contentment  is  enjoyed, 
where,  in  the  assurance  of  reaching  or  having  reached  its  moderate  goal,  ambition 
comes  to  rest.  Hence  passion  has  no  right  to  disturb  the  composure.  There  is  no 
room  for  envy;  there  must  not  be  the  fidgetiness  of  a  weak  cause  or  a  bad  conscience. 
It  is  the  harmoniousness  of  life  at  which  Greek  culture  aims,  the  beauty  of  a  char- 
acter which  we  try  to  present  to  our  cognition  under  the  very  appropriate  term 
equanimity. 

The  Greek,  the  educated  Greek  knows  of  guilt  only  from  what  he  has  seen  in  the 
drama;  of  a  personal  guilt  of  his  own,  he  seems  to  be  as  entirely  ignorant  as  if  he  ere 
perfectly  innocent.  He  only  thinks  of  an  evil  coming  to  him  from  without,  of  a  mis- 
fortune into  which  the  foot  becomes  entangled.  A  trait  of  the  Persian  temper  is 
noticeable  therein.  The  cultivation  of  fearlessness  was  to  counteract  that  habitual 
anguish  which  had  become  master  of  the  Mongolian.  This  artificial  deportment,  as 
if  free  from  guilt,  was  a  symptom  of  the  intuitive  certainty  that  man  consists  of  two 
natures  and  that  the  bad  as  such  does  not  belong  to  the  human  being.  Neither  was 
there  much  bad  in  the  gods.  Hence  a  culture  of  the  mind  was  held  possible,  which 
would  bring  all  desires  and  appetites  under  its  control.  To  avoid  the  evil,  nothing 
else  was  deemed  necessary  but  harmony  of  the  soul,  harmonious  cooperation  of  the 
faculties,  and  their  proper  exercise  for  their  mutual  improvement.  Wisdom  in  adjust- 
ing conduct  to  circumstances  was  tlie  acme  of  the  Greek  ethics. 

Of  course  the  bad  and  the  drama,  or  rather  tragedy,  is  not  abated  withal  the  drapery ; 
only  that  the  Greek  reduces  either  of  them  to  fate  or  accident.  It  is  admitted  that  the  Bad, 
silently  and  darkly  hovers  about  persons  and  thing's,but  inner  composure  and  guilelessness  need 
not  be  disturbed  thereby,  because  the  passions  of  an  insulted  deity  dare  not  enter,  nor  can 
they  agitate,  the  realm  of  fate;  because  fate  itself  holds  the  scales  which  balance  and  adjust  all 
things,  the  gods  included ;  hence  nobody  needs  be  afraid  even  of  fate.  The  inner  composure, 
the  calmness  of  mind  thus  gained  is  shown  in  the  single-heartedness  of  purpose,  in  the  simpli- 
city of  recitations  and  all  artistic  representations.  All  exciting  elements  are  mitigated  or 
palliated  whenever  they  break  forth  to  baffle  the  rules  of  sesthetics.  It  is  for  such  reasons 
that  the  group  of  Laocoon  and  his  sons  is  so  enigmatical  to  critics— because  it  does  not  comply 
with  the  maxim  under  discu  ssion.  To  Greek  thought  and  refinement  it  was  offensive  to  pro- 
voke passion  by  teasing,  or  envy  by  exaggeration ;  it  was  frowned  down  as  vulgar  to  nourish 
excitability  by  sensational  alarmings,  by  officiousness,  obtrusiveness,  or  by  sensual  allure- 
ments. Harmony  and  its  cultivation  in  mind,  in  deportment,  and  in  the  social  relations  was 
deemed  worthy  of  being  religiously  observed. 

Hellenic  self  possession,  complacency,  and  calmness,  is  the  art  of  the  mind  to  ap- 
pear without  evil  design  and  without  harboring  suspicion  against  another.  This  may 
be  understood  more  precisely  and  appreciated  the  better,  by  comparing  its  artistic 
representations  with  those  of  the  Romantic  art. 

In  the  Romantic  school  of  art  existence  and  destiny  are  kept  separate ;  the  attention  is 
directed  to  life's  imperfections.  The  soul's  expressions  must  be  painted  in  colors  of  sadness, 
and  must  call  forth  a  sigh  of  dismay  from  the  beholder  ere  a  piece  of  art  can  find  approval. 
Look  at  the  contrast  between  Greek  taste  and  the  ostentatious  sanctimoniousness,  the  artful 
hiding  and  even  chiding  of  reality,  the  affected  unnaturalness,  and  the  studied,  stiff  posture 
for  the  sake  of  appearing  perfectly  indifferent,  as  exhibited  in  the  Roman  style  of  the  Middle- 
ages.  It  reminds  me  of  a  photographic  picture  of  herself,  which  a  pious  old  maiden  had  pre- 
sented to  one  of  my  friends.  It  represented  her  in  the  attitude  of  fervent  prayer,  kneeling  and 
eyes  closed.  Now  compare  such  hypocrisy  with  the  tasteful  and  chaste,  the  amiable  and  yet 
dignified  naturalness  of  early  Greece.  Its  refreshing  efficiency  has  outlasted  thousands  of 
years  down  to  the  time  of  the  renaissance  in  which  the  study  of  its  mere  vestiges  was  sufficient 
to  cause  the  revival  of  letters  and  arts. 

Greek  art  is  unsophisticated,  because  unconscious  of  a  difference  between  actual 
existence  and  the  dissembling  tendency  to  deny  realism.  It  exhibits  as  a  matter  of 
course  both  real  existence  and  a  natural  tendency  toward  perfection  as  being  imman- 
ent in,  and  reconciled  to,  one  another.  This  is  the  secret  of  the  artistic  representa- 
tions of  Greece  :  unaffected  simplicity,  and  harmonious  union  of  spirit  and  nature  in  real 
life,  whereby  the  problem  of  destiny  is  solved  through  immanency  of  joy,  purity,  and  peace. 

The  situation  of  the  country  greatly  favored  the  development  of  these  Greek  character- 
istics. Every  island,  every  change  of  scenery,  made  a  pleasing  impression,  had  a  soothing 
effect,  Everything  concerning  his  native  land,  so  congenial  to  his  own  nature,  was  conducive 
to  his  satisfaction  and  contentment.  And  the  Greek  made  it  his  principal  study,  to  estab- 
lish unison  between  himself  and  his  surroundings.  His  ethics  aimed  simply  at  the  adjustment 
of  the  inner  to  external  life.  This  ethics  was  at  the  same  time  his  applicable  religion  and  any 
form  of  application  must  be  sesthetical.    The  terrors  of  the  Asiatic  deserts  were  things  of  the 


n.  B.  CH.  m.  §  64.  HUMANISTICS  IN  GREEK  ART.  157 

past ;  altho  not  so  entirely  forgotten,  as  that  present  security  would  not  be  the  better  appre- 
ciated.   The  wild  hordes  of  the  steppes  could  no  longer  disturb  the  enjoyment  of  the  beautiful 
moment.    The  Greeks  thought  it  the  main  symptom  of  foolishness  to  borrow  trouble  from  the 
future.    Under  a  laughing  sky  harmless  hilarity  became  habitual.    By  art  a  tangible  gospel  of  ^^^^^y 
earthly  happiness  was  proclaimed  which  was  as  easily  understood,  as  the  examples   through  happiness, 
which  children  are  susceptible  to  educational  influence.     An  unconscious  selfdelusion  con-  §  64, 152. 

cealed  from  them  the  strange  things  in  the  world  and  its  shrill  discords.  Upon  the  richly 
colored  surface  and  under  the  the  appearance  of  happiness  a  national  temperament  took 
shape,  which,  easy  going  and  unpretentious,  found  satisfaction  in  things  as  they  are,  or  at 
least  pursuaded  itself  to  make  the  best  of  them. 

§  64.  Considering  the  trend  of  mind  peculiar  to  the  Greeks  the  deity  could 
scarcely  be  expected  to  be  revered  as  a  supernatural  mystery.  It  became  a  habit 
with  them  to  ignore  and  forget  unpleasant  reminiscences ;  thus  they  imagined  them- 
selves on  such  intimate  terms  with  the  gods  as  to  persuade  themselves  that  they  had 
condescended  to  hold  intercourse  with  mankind.  The  divine  beings  were  conceived 
as  having  accommodated  themselves  to  ways  and  manners  quite  human,  as  having 
assumed  historic  reality,  and  as  promoting  men  of  merit  who  had  been  active  in  the 
cause  of  general  welfare,  to  divine  dignity  and  honors.  The  human  form  is,  of  Educational  influence  of 
course,  best  adapted  for  this  highest  manifestation  of  the  divine  ;  humanity  had  be-  ^'^*"'  ''^^^'^^'^^°''^- 
come  gloriously  divine  by  these  changes  in  mundane  conditions.  The  cultural  hulls 
of  Semito-Hamitic  growth,  once  conveying  the  beginnings  of  cultural  transformation  / 

and  elevation  into  the  islands,  had  thus  become  refuse.  For  an  art  based  upon  the 
aesthetics  of  ^gypt  and  Babylon  the  Greeks  had  no  further  use. 

Greek  as  against 

Overbeck  in  his  "History  of  Greek  plastic  art"  testifies  to  this  independence  and  origi-  Egyptian  sculpture. 
nality  of  the  Greeks  as  against  Semites  who  had  become  a  barrier  of  obstruction  in  their  inter-  '^^'*^"beck.  §  87. 

course  with,  and  of  more  complete  separation  from,  the  Eastern  Aryans.     ^Egyptian  art  had  Greek  art  in 
taken  its  start  in  the  architecture  of  huge  dead-chambers.    It  fastens  to  the  column  even  the  of '^^vot  ^nd 
human  form  stifp  and  dead ;  for,  from  its  own  knowledge  Mgypt  knew  nothing  of  a  free  stand-  India.  ' 

point.  Its  flat  and  geometrical  uniformity  was  rejected  by  Greece  immediately  and  exchanged 
for  a  free  and  upright  body  with  active  organic  members,  of  which  not  even  the  .äJgyptian 
paintings  reveal  any  idea.  In  this  as  in  almost  any  other  respect  Greece  excels  .Egypt  as  an 
organism  surpasses  a  mechanism. 

This  soon  enabled  the  Greeks  to  render  their  ideal  of  beauty  divine  and  human 
into  the  most  adequate  and  perfect  shape  possible  in  statues  of  marble.    In  an  Drvine° " 
equally  befitting  manner  is  the  immanency  of  the  divine  in  the  natural  sphere  exhib-  uL*ophl'tTcat^-u7der 
ited  and  fostered  by  Greek  architecture.    Majestic  simplicity  seems  to  have  been  Human!*  *^'  '""''^'' 
intended  to  make  the  ideal  feel  itself  at  home  in  this  world  of  ours.    Even  the  cogni-  Harmony  and  giory. 
tion  of  the  formal  unity,  which  we  attribute  to  the  spiritual  sphere  of  being,  is  inad-  ^'"'''■^'^'^'^'-   §  "• 
vertently,  perhaps,  but  unmistakably  expressed  by  the  similitude  of  the  temples  as 
they  stand  surrounded  by  the  diversity  of  earthly  forms.    They  are  always  situated  in  J^Äs^fS*"'*     ' 
solemn  and  serene  localities,  in  the  midst  of  scenery  which  impresses  the  mind  with  .^'f^SSÄI^^»- 
its  solitude  and  silence. 

There,  indeed,  the  ideal  is  made  to  feel  itself  at  home  under  the  charm,  of  pro- 
perly toned  and  composed  colors  as  well  as  musical  airs,  so  as  to  enchant  the  mind  with 
the  corresponding  apperceptions  of  consonancy  and  conciliation.  Every  detail  is  calculated 
to  form  a  totality  impressing  the  mind  with  feeling  and  immediate  understanding  of  the  fact, 
that  human  existence  and  human  destiny  are  not  only  not  rent  asunder,  but  inherent  in,  and 
prearranged  for,  each  other. 

The  reports  of  the  German  Archeological  Institute  of  Athens  show,  how  ingeniously  the 
Greeks  handled  their  art  in  giving  expression   to  a  gleeful  enjoyment  of  earthly  happiness,  Tones  and  colors, 
as  illustrated  in  the  tints  of  those  paintings  which  decorated  the  Acropolis,  dating  back  to  the 
«pochal  century  spoken  of.    They  are  painted  in  deep  and  pure,  yet  chaste  and  sombre  shades 
and  pertain  to  the  pre-Persian  style  of  drapery. 

Hellenic  art  exhibits  the  harmony  between  real  existence  and  ideal  destiny,  the  imma- 
nency of  the  deity  in  nature  and  in  man,  nature's  prototype.    No  infinite  extension  of 
space,  no  craving  for  a  misty  distance  can  rob  the  Greek  of  his  contentment  with  the 
present  which  alone  he  considers  his  own.    No  infinite  duration  of  the  time  in  which 
gods  may  have  existed  or  may   not,  embarrasses  him  so  as  to  bother  himself  about  Conciliation  of 
a  past  or  a  future  limiting  his  existence.    No  brooding  about  the  emptiness  before  ^,^th IfuSln^^ 
the  beginning,  or  the  void  after  the  end,  shall  cheat  him  out  of  the  enjoyment  of  the  destiny, 
moment  or  the  improvement  of  the  opportunities  at  hand.    In  short,  his  world-theory  not  find.'°  °''"™ ''°" 
culminates  in  a  gospel  of  nature;  the  sum  and  substance  of  hiscultus  is  the  harmonious  con-      9i,'i23,*u7,'f52/i58: 
sistency  of  natural  life  with  the  fates  of  final  humanity. 


158 

Condescension 
of  the  Deity 
alone  elevates 
man. 

Paintings  from  the 
acropolis  6th  century 
B.  C.  §  61. 

Realism  of  Greek  art 
represents  the  world- 
theory  which  culminates 
in  the  Gospel  of  nature. 

§  152. 
Hellenistic  aesthetics 
as  compared  with 
Hindoo  tastes. 
Against  nonsensical 
monstrosities, 
symbolising  agonies 
under  an  incubus. 
Greeks  make  the 
symmetrical  develop- 
ment of  mental  and 
corporeal  excellencies  of 
man  their  study, 
they  nevertheless  did 
not  learn  to  understand 
the  human  head.      §  87. 


Criticism  of  Greek  art: 
RusKiN,  Thaüsinq. 


The  great  deficiency 
of  Greek  culture : 


permanent  smile  of 
sculptured  faces. 


Greeks  not  quite  as 
natural  as  they 
affected  to  be. 


Inwardness  of  the 
Greek  mind  scrutinised: 


Moralism  disparages 
religion. 


Scepticism  the  fashion 
since  the  short  "golden 
age"  of  Pericles. 


Popular  and  unpopular ' 
teachers. 


Misunderstood 
symbolism  is  given  the 
place  of  religion,  in 
order  to  caricature 
religion. 

Mythology  only 
renien)'>ers  golden 
limes  in  the  past,  has 
no  hope  for  the  future, 

no  prophecy. 

Thf  esoterics  of  the 
mysteries.    Pihoab. 


AFFECTATION  IN  GREEK  SCULPTURE.  II.  B.  Ch.  III.  §  65. 

Even  the  gods  are  not  held  to  be  eternal,  since  they  are  conceived  as  being  too  in- 
timately involved  in  the  affairs  of  this  world  as  to  be  apprehended  in  the  abstract. 

The  oldest  works  of  Hellenic  art  of  which  we  know  are  the  two  tympanums  or  gable- 
frontispieces  from  the  temple  of  Hercules  found  A.  D.  1885  in  the  Acropolis.  The  time  of  their 
origin  is  computed  to  fall  in  with  the  period  of  Draco  and  Solon.  They  represent  Hercules 
fighting  the  many  headed  hydra.  This  work  indicates  that  the  struggle  with  the  monstrosities 
of  oriental  tastes  had  then  not  been  overcome  as  yet.  In  contrast  with  the  attempts  to  picture 
the  impossible— that  is,  with  the  intricacies  and  colossal  abnormities  of  Hindoo  art,  the  Hel- 
lenes aspire  to  cultivate  a  symmetrical  development  of  the  mental  and  corporeal  excellencies 
of  the  human  person.  For  the  sake  of  this  idealistic  realism  every  allusion  to  stupefying  mag- 
nitudes was  rejected  in  the  political  as  well  as  in  the  artistic  formations.  The  code  of  arts 
prescribed  definiteness,  that  is.  a  thought  must  be  rendered  completely  intelligible  at  first 
sight.  And  in  this  ability  to  understand  and  to  represent  the  realities  around  itself  the  Greek 
mind  took  pride.    This  means  a  great  deal. 

But  one  excepti«)n  is  to  be  taken. 

The  Hellenes  understood  those  parts  of  man  which  pertain  to  his  lower,  physical  nature : 
the  finely  shaped  and  well-knitted  body  in  its  free  mobility ;  the  head  of  man  they  did  not  un- 
derstand. Herein  lies  what  Ruskin  finds  fault  with,  too :  that  in  representing  psychical  life 
they  did  not  succeed.  Artistic  representations  of  emotions  as  expressed  in  the  human  face, 
the  art  of  delineating  particular  traits  of  individuality,— so  Thausing  judges  when  speaking  of 
Duerer's  school  of  art— remained  "insignificant  and  nugatory  as  yet,  the  stereotyped  smile 
notwithstanding." 

This  absence  of  marks  of  character  denoting  the  various  temperaments  or  moods 
of  the  mind,  and  the  way  of  hiding  the  deficiency  by  this  permanent  smile  of  feigned 
superiority,  shows  the  habit  of  the  Greeks  to  help  themselves  with  levity  over  dif- 
ficulties by  ignoring  them  as  far  beneath  their  recognition.  These  facts  become  sig- 
nificant when  the  inner  nature  of  the  Greek  mind  comes  to  be  scrutinised.  Then  we 
detect  that  the  Hellenes  were  not  quite  as  unsophisticated  as  they  simulated,  after 
all.  The  naivete  of  their  later  years  was  studied;  much  of  their  hilarity  affected. 
Prone  to  superflcialness,  if  not  to  say  frivolous  shallowness  in  viewing  life,  they  could 
not  solve  its  grave  problems.  Theoretically  the  difficulties  may  be  ignored  for  a  time, 
as  it  is  natural  to  boyhood;  whilst  as  facts  they  are  stubborn  and  will  test  the  assi- 
duity and  perseverance  of  mature  age.  Mirthful  Greece  neither  stood  this  test,  nor 
could  it  evade  the  settlement  of  the  unliquidated  damages,  which  had  resulted  from 
undervaluing  the  vicissitudes  of  life.  And  when  finally  the  account  had  to  be 
squared,  it  happened  under  such  appalling  concurrencies,  that  in  the  three  or  four 
similar  disasters  mentioned  in  history  the  nexus  between  profligacy  and  collapse  was 
not  brought  out  more  flagrantly  than  in  the  destruction  of  Corinth,  simultaneously 
with  that  of  Carthage. 

§  65.  Greek  art  had  caused  religion  to  be  disparaged  by  moralism.  By  degrees 
morality  was  rendered  into  something  which  was  mistaken  for  being  able  to  stand 
upon  its  own  dignity,  because  of  having  its  value  in  itself;  as  something  useful,  if  ex- 
pedient. In  corresponding  degrees  the  imaginary  apperceptions  of  concrete  gods 
were  left  to  the  uneducated  masses,  who  could  not  understand  the  Elysian  and  other 
"mysteries".  They  were  not  initiated,  they  were  profane.  After  the  golden  age  of 
Pericles  scepticism  was  fashionable  among  those  who  wanted  to  be  considered  as 
"liberally  educated".    To  an  Athenian  nothing  was  sacred  any  longer. 

Socrates  stood  forth  in  his  solitary  grandeur,  stared  at  as  an  odd,  ugly  fellow,  with  all 
his  "genius".  Solitary  stands  Plato  with  his  "idea,"  now  exile  and  slave,  now  aristocrat. 
Aristotle,  however,  is  popular.  If  one  wanted  to  be  counted  with  the  intelligent  class,  it  was 
necessary  to  agree  with  Aristotle.  Aristotle  was  authority.  The  secret  of  his  popularity  was 
that  he  left  the  invisible  world  alone,  saying  it  was  unknowable  and  need  not  be  cared  for. 
Still  more  popular  became  Aristophanes  despite  his  merciless  satires,  through  which  he  cut 
the  world  of  the  clouds  into  pieces,  making  comedies  of  the  cuttings. 

One  element  of  the  mystic  games  must  not  be  left  unnoticed.  Looking  backward  the 
Hellenes  mused  and  versified  that  Kronos,  lord  of  the  woeld  in  its  golden  time,  and  father 
of  Zeus,  had  ruled  upon  the  islands  of  Okeanos  over  a  world  of  jieace  and  bliss.  Altho  his  son 
had  liberated  the  chained  Titanes,  he  had  become  reconciled  to  Zeus.  The  tormenting  powers 
have  their  sway,  but— allowances  are  to  be  made  for  that. 

Pindar  praises  the  realms  of  bliss;  but  they  lie  FAR  away  in  the  distant  past.  Of 
prophesies  of  a  blessed  future  neither  the  ancient  nations  so  far  reviewed,  nor  the  classic 
nations  had  any  idea.  To  some  select  people  only,  to  such  as  were  "in  it",  as  the  proletarians 
have  it  in  their  vernacular,  to  such,  who  as  the  "respectable"  people  were  accepted  into  the 
secret  societies  of  the  "mysteries", — some  sort  of  a  glance  into  a  peaceful  future  was  granted. 


n.  B.  CH.  III.  §  66.  OENESIS  AND  GROWTH  OF  INFIDELITY.  15» 

So  Pindar  sings:  "Blessed  is  he,  who  has  had  a  vision  of  them  before  his  descent  into  the  hol- 
lows of  the  earth.  He  knows  the  end  of  life  and  the  god-given  beginning."  The  truth  is  that 
there  must  be  a  knowledge  equal  to  the  life  eternal ;  but  this  means  a  state  of  consciousness 
above  mere  reflection  and  more  than  visionary.  We  hear  the  old  mistake  that  to  know  is 
all  that  is  required  for  blessedness,  as  if  ignorance  were  not  bliss. 

The  Elysian  mysteries  were  accompanied  by  the  annual  festivities,  celebrating  the 
return  of  Persephone,  Demeter's  daughter,  from  the  realms  of  the  shadows  to  the  upper 
world.  In  them  a  palingenesy  of  some  elect  men  at  least  was  promised.  But  it  was  a  resur- 
rection in  secrecy,  for  the  knowning  ones  alone. 

The  Pagan  festivities  never  show  the  character  of  any  historical  commemoration,  but  Pagan  festivals  celebr«»« 
are  always  celebrating  natural  phenomena,  and  represent  the  deification  of  the  various  phases  SfstorS  meSaur* 
of  nature. 

Some  one  may  remind  us  of  the  Orpheic  games.  But  what  was  really  going  on  therein 
was  withheld  from  the  public.  The  Orpheic  games  served  only  as  embellishments  to  and  ad- 
vertisements of  the  Bacchanal  orgies.  Under  a  set  of  liturgical  rites  the  steer  of  Dionysius  was 
torn  to  pieces  and  its  raw  meat  eaten  at  the  sacrificial  meal.  Never  would  a  participant 
henceforth  even  touch  another  meal  made  of  anything  which  had  been  alive.  Like  the 
Egyptian  ascetics  they  would  strut  about  in  their  white  linen,  without  being  of  any  benefit 
whatever  to  society.  Why,  then,  should  anyone  care  for  their  mysteries?  It  may  here  be 
pointed  out,  that  those  ceremonials  were  the  opposite  of  philosophical  symbolism.  Virtually 
all  those  games  were  no  more  than  conservatories  of  the  occult  remnants  of  Shamanism, 
bubbling  and  gurgling  up  from  the  dark  substratum. 

We  have  now  on  the  one  hand  that  Pantheism  again  which  invites  suppression, 
with  the  only  difference  that  here  in  Greece  the  pressure  comes  from  below.     What  KtS "'"^ '°  "^'^ 
causes  political  dissatisfaction  and  the  harangue  against  moral  restrictions,  is  at  ''philosophy"  in 
bottom  the  unpopularity  of  the  logic  of  Pantheism.  Teachers  and  restrictive  authori-  superstition, 
ties  are  treated  as  old  fogies  and  ridiculed  as  a  disgrace  to  illumined  times.    We  have  ^57;  ls,m',ll',  n,  73;  si; 

85  89  96  97  98   170  185 

the  precedent  and  pretense  of  a  science  being  advanced  too  far  to  retain  any  re-    '   •   •   -   •    ■ 

ligious  faith.    On  the  other  hand  we  have  two  kinds  of  superstition  :  the  adherents 

of  a  more  subtile  superstition  join  the  mysteries  of  the  select  few,  whilst  the  humble 

classes  believe  in  the  reality  of  the  nature-gods.    Circumstances  like  these  furnished 

the  opportunity  to  the  sophists  of  Greece  to  accomplish  the  same  work  which  in 

France  the  Cyclopedists  performed  a  hundred  years  ago.    Intoxicated  by  the  plausi-  paraiiei: 

bilities  of  platitudinarianism,  that  is  by  the  foam-like  thought  produced  with  the  aid  ilth  centui^^*'*^ " 

of  fiery  stimulants,  sceptics  turn  demagogues.    The  molds  of  common  weal  or  public 

welfare,  the  modes  of  thinking,  are  burst;  and  the  destruction  of  the  social  fabric  must 

follow. 

§  66.    The  history  of  Greece  furnishes  an  ample  illustration  of  the  genesis  and  Genesis  and 
growth  of  infidelity.    The  first  stage  is  a  simulated  indifference  to  piety  with  the  f^gaent?^ 
smile  of  superiority  over  the  poor  dupes.  As  yet  however  respect  for  religious  convic- 
tions is  dissembled  in  order  to  secure  toleration  of  free  thought.    As  a  next  step  tol- 
erance is  insisted  upon,  not  only  in  the  interest  of  free  thought  but  for  the  ridicule  of  Feigned  indifference. 
religion.    At  the  expense  of  sacred  truths  they  are  made  responsible  for  the  fault  of  piea  for 
hierarchical  formations  or  religious  misapprehensions,  and  occasions  are  watched  to  n^t^fo^^J^«  thought  bat 
put  religion  as  such  to  hatred  and  contempt  by  enlarging  upon  its  caricatures.     Fi-  *°'  "<^'*="^«  °*  religion. 
nally  the  plea  of  tolerance  changes  into  the  fanaticism  of  infidelity  which  finds  an  scoffing  at  religious 

•'  -^  °  misapprehensions  and 

easy  prey  in  a  hated  and  defamed  victim  like  Socrates.    The  tendency  comes  to  the  deformations. 
surface  which  began  with  modifying  the  formulated  religious  tenets,  and  then  made  Fanatical 
the  demand  of  their  abolition  a  pretense  for  the  overthrow  of  the  institutions   pro-  d"fame1^en^®e 

•       J  •  i -i  Socrates  and  then 

teCting    them.  demands  them  as 

It  then  appears  that  all  the  efforts  of  enlightenment  had  but  the  one  aim:  not  so  """*""' °*  their  hatred. 
much  to  shield  the  hatred  against  tottering  and  antiquated  doctrines  and  def  orma-  «f  "TpSm^"'^'''"*'' 
tions,  but  to  accomplish  the  "emancipation  of  the  flesh."    Nothing  else  had  been  the  Elt^onoT dogmas" 
object  of  purging  the  nation  of  its  religious  faith.  SÄVprotecting 

Under  guise  of  investigating  problems  of  moral  philosophy  libertinism  agitates  revenge     ^™ 
for  the  repression  sustained  so  long,  for  the  restraint  of  the  lusts  which  the  old  fashioned  Scepticism  no  less 
teachings  used  to  enjoin.     Moral  criteria  are  undermined  in  the  first  place,  until  "public  tynmnicai  than 
opinion"  sneers  at  their  regulative  rulers,  and  soon  sets  them  aside.     By  this  method  the  re-  ^e^a"'^'''eL 
ligio-ethical  cash  is  thrown  into  the  crucible  of   demagogical  analysis  in  order  to  be  dis- 
solved, adulterated,  and  coined  over.    By  virtue  of  the  new  ingredients  of  a  scepticism  which 
is  no  less  dogmatical  and  even  more  tyrannical,  all  moral  maxims  decompose.     A  Socrates 
foresaw  the  coming  disaster  as  the  necessary  result  of  perverting  the  idea  of  personality  into 
the  arbitrariness  of  subjectivism.  As  a  mere  natural  result  it  always  turns  out,  that  disregard 
of  moral  authority  throws  a  nation  into  the  agonies  of  despotic  anarchy  and  terrorism. 


leo 


Parallel: 

Socrates'  and  Kant's 


Religion 
identified  with 
intellectual 
cvilture,  both 
hated  as  means 
of  oppression. 
§  11,  15,  56.  58,  65, 
72,  87,  96,  98, 170, 
185. 


Plato  on  Egyptian  and 
Greek  peculiarities. 


What  Em  ope  owes  to 
Greece . 


The  day  of 
Salamis  and 
Himera. 

Haniito-Semetic  assaults 

beaten  off. 

§  71,  88,  132,  137,  U2. 

Greece  under  a  different 
aspect. 


The  crop  raised  from 
certain  wild  seeds. 


From  folk-lore  to 
idolatry. 


Pelasgian  beginnings 
of  mythology — 
ancestral  reminiscences. 
»61. 


WHAT  EUROPE  OWES  THE  HELLENES.  IE  B.  Ch.  HI.  §  67. 

Socrates  endeavored  to  counteract  the  wanton  spirit  of  the  time  by  the  recon- 
struction of  a  moral  standard  upon  the  basis  of  u  deeper  consciousness.  By  way  of 
argumentation  he  attempted  the  same  reform  which  a  hundred  years  ago  was  under- 
taken by  Kant  with  pure  reason. 

But  see  what  arguing  and  proving  the  existence  of  God,  for  instance,  will  accomplish. 
It  will  cause  the  masses  to  listen  to  sophists,  onologists  and  demagogues.  The  struggle  be- 
tween wary  conservatism  and  conspiring  radicalism  generally  assumes  the  title  of  scientific 
progressiveness.  At  the  next  stage  we  hear  intentional  scepticism  giving  out  the  parole  : 
We  can't  believe  this  and  that ,  until  in  the  end  materialism  and  mental  laziness  shield  infi- 
delity under  the  foregone  conclusion :  We  can't  know  this !  Thus  faith  and  science  are  severed. 
By  silent  consent  leading  minds  aim  at  the  detachment  of  religion  from  its  institutions, 
and  the  masses  catch  on  to  the  idea  that  morality  stands  independent  of  religion,  declaring 
the  latter  superfluous.  Henceforth  the  masses  hold  intelligence  and  religion  identical,  and 
take  psychical  and  spiritual  matters  for  the  same  thing.  And  since  mental  superiority  will 
always  take  the  lead  and  religious  intelligence  is  ever  antagonistic  to  vulgarity,  the  masses, 
unable  to  distinguish  between  a  hieratic  and  an  aristocratic  state,  will  take  all  that  is  above 
them  as  being  connected  with  rule  and  oppression.  Pantheism  indeed  always  being  such,  ren- 
ders religion  and  its  externals  the  more  unpopular.  Whenever  religion  is  diluted  into  in- 
tellectualism,  then  both  are  suspected  as  means  of  deceiving  the  uneducated  and  as  cheating 
them  of  their  liberties.  Hence  all  that  excels  common  generalness  becomes  opprobrious ;  all 
that  is  surmised  as  coming  from  above  is  to  be  leveled  to  the  grade  of  popularity,  if  not 
vulgarity.  Nothing  must  tend  upwards,  least  of  all  a  church-steeple.  Society  severs ;  class- 
hatred  animates  the  majority. 

Plato,  the  aristocrat,  speaking  of  the  state,  remarked  that  the  -Egyptians  and 
Phenicians  were  to  be  credited  with  their  mercenary,  the  Greeks  to  be  congratulated 
for  their  inquisitive,  trend  of  mind.  He  defined  the  difference  of  character  as  dis- 
tinctly in  sense  as  terse  in  the  sentence  :  "The  occidental  mind  is  bent  upon  search- 
ing and  intellectually  assimilating  the  real  world."  The  Greeks  have  furnished  that 
mind  with  the  instrument  best  adapted  for  its  task,  namely  their  language,  "the 
word."  The  Hellenes  also  spared  the  occidental  mind  the  relapse  into  oriental  phan- 
tasms and  gloom,  inasmuch  as  they  saved  it  from  the  indescribable  abstruseness  of 
the  Hindoo  brain  and  its  products. 

But  what  is  still  more,  the  Hellenes  rescued  the  history  of  human  affairs  in  gen- 
eral from  being  pressed  into  the  oriental  mold.  On  the  memorable  line  from  the 
Bosporus,recently  yoked  at  Byzantium,  across  Marathon  and  Salamis  and  passing  over 
to  Syracuse,  the  Hellenes  broke  the  tools  of  enslavement  which  were  in  the  hands  of 
the  Persians  and  Punians, leagued  for  the  purpose  of  subjugating  Europe. 

It  was  on  the  day  of  Salamis  that  the  Hamito-Semitic  assault  was  repelled;  the  day  on 
which  Xerxes  was  forced  to  beat  a  hasty  retreat  with  the  fragments  of  his  innumerable 
hosts  of  Semites.  And  it  was  on  the  very  same  day  that  the  Punians  were  vanquished  at 
Himera.  The  combined  onslaughts  being  thus  beaten  oflp,  Europe  was  preserved  to  remain  as 
the  place  of  refuge,   where  the  mind       might  develop  in  freedom. 

§  67.  Let  US  look  down,  however,  from  this  altitude  of  Greek  attainments  in 
order  to  observe  also  what  was  going  on  in  this  nation  beside  the  liberation  of  person- 
ality and  below  the  free  development  of  the  intellect. 

Besides  the  remnants  of  spiritual  gifts  and  sacred  keep-sakes  of  original  relig- 
ious tradition  there,  as  everywhere  else,  lay  dormant  those  seeds  of  perverted  God- 
consciousness,  whose  broken  rays  ever  refract  even  from  the  occult  depths  of  the 
lowest  layer  of  culture. 

In  the  period  of  epic  poetry  already  Hellenic  heroism  had  flourished,  because  great 
enterprises  were  then  carried  out.  undaunted  mariners  had  made  discoveries,  had 
forced  landings,  and  formed  colonies.  Like  the  Normans  in  later  times  they  took 
cities  and  brought  home  booty.  The  legendary  remembrance  of  the  daring  sea-kings,, 
like  Jason,  was  stored  up  in  folk-lore  as  equal  to  the  fame  of  the  Trojan  warriors.  In 
the  uneventful  home-circle  gossip  made  them  heroes,  favorites  of  the  gods,  demigods» 
Achilles  was  taken  for  the  son  of  Thetis;  the  Atrides,  for  children  of  Zeus.  Real  men 
they  were,  Greeks  at  that,  in  behalf  of  whom  the  deities  were  wrought  into  a  mytho- 
logical system.  With  the  personified  symbols  of  natural  phenomena  and  national 
notions  (which  the  deities  were  in  the  first  place),  those  pets  of  the  people  were  asso- 
ciated and  finally  idolised  as  real  gods. 


II.  B.  CH.  m.  §  68.  GREECE  UNDER  A  DIFFERENT  ASPECT.  161 

The  zeal  for  glorifying  veteran  patriots  was  not  prompted  by  pride  alone.     Another  cir-  Hero-worship: 

oumstance  favored  the  growth  of  myths.  For  the  more  ancestors  some  Hellenic  tribes  counted  ^"""*'"  *'^ 

in  their  lineage,  the  more  susceptible  were  the  descendants  to  oriental  propensities.     The  Kepristination  of 

colonists  in  Asia  minor  especially  intercommunicated  such  influences  for  which  the  old  no-  despite  the     ' 

bility  at  home  possessed  so  much  predilection,  and  with  whom  old  remembrances  and  affini-  repulsion  of 

ties  were  the  easier  revived,  the  further  back  they  would  trace  their  pedigree.    "Blood  will  2^}^^^^^\^^J^}^f:„ 
.    11, <  mi_       1  S   'o,  öl,  y7,  1^.1,  146, 

tell"  says  Thackeray.  149^  I85' 

Alexander's  expedition  was  not  intercepted  from  thirst  of  revenge,  nor  for  the  purpose  ^.^     , .,.,  '  . 

.-  ..,.,.  ,  ^i-  10,,«    Ola  nobility  preserving 

of     diverting      attention  from  civil  rivalries  and  contentions;  not  so  much  for  the  sake  of  old  traditions. 
conquest  as  for  the  satisfaction  of  curiosity.     The  trip  to  the  oasis  of  Ammon,  that  sanctuary  TuArKEBAv.     §73,78,137. 
most  renowned  for  its  antiquity,   ended  with  the   title  of  divinity  being  conferred  upon  Corrupting 
the  Hellenised  Macedonian.     Lysander  was  honored  by  the  cousins  of  the  old  world  with  principles 
altars  dedicated  to  him.  Phillip  of  Macedonia  was  received  with  divine  honors  at  Amphipolisi  ^"^^o^^fiZ  78  M  Q7 
whilst  his  illustrious  son,  young  as  he  was,  was  made  a  god  in  his  lifetime  like  a  native  king,         122, 123,  146, 147'- 
To  Eumenes,  his  successor,  sacrifices  were  brought  at  Pergamon.    Immediately  after  Alexan-  150, 185. 

der's  time  Greek  art  plainly  shows  the  importation  of  corrupt  motives  from  the  old  country.  Phillip,  Alexander  and 

,  ,.,,  1/-^-^.,,.  ,„  ,,  Eumenes  allow  their  own. 

And  with  this  change  another  is  closely  connected.    O.  Rossbach  points  to  the  fact,  that  the  art  deification. 

of  this  epoch  shows  a  great  fondness  for  making  the  abject  homage  paid  to  rulers  its  chief  Prostitution  of  art. 

theme  and  study.     It  was  art  with  an  eye  to  profit,  which  began  to  flatter  the  vanity  of  the  „ 

men  in  power  and  their  subjects.     Among  their  satellites  and  sycophants  the  kings  appear  Rossba™. 

upon  the  paintings  "made  conspicuous  by  the  use  of  the  most  costly  material."  ^  ^^'  ^^^'  ^^^'  ^^^'  Jjq' 

What  of  foreign  culture  is  imported  by  a  nation  as  yet  laboring  to  acquire  a  def i-  Fondness  for  outlandish 
nite  character  of  its  own  usually  amounts  to  a  spreading  of  the  poison  from  the  *^*'"^^*^ 
corpses  of  decomposing  nations  who  died  of  hyper-culture.    Robust  and  ill-advised 
parvenues  are  eager  to  imitate  artistic  refinement,  that  which  has  caused  general  dis-       . 
cussion,  and  to  introduce  outlandish  notions  and  luxuries  under  the  label  of  higher  decomposing 
education  and  advanced  views.    And  in  proportion  to  this  infection  a  decadence  of  ^"i*"*"^«.        §  20. 
heroism  and  patriotism,  of  virtuosity  and  morality  is  always  to  be  deplored.  herorsmTndVtriotism. 

So  it  was  in  Greece  which  took  to  the  Assyro-Syriac  poison;  so  in  Rome  imitating 
the  fashions  of  Corinth;  so  with  the  courts  of  Europe,  when  they  became  the  lick- 
spittles of  Paris  or  of  the  pontiff's  slipper. 

§  68.  Athens,  permitting  the  old  virtues  to  be  ridiculed,  took  the  leading  part  in 
shaking  the  pillars  of  Hellenic  strength  and  fame.  The  Attic  sneers  signalised  the 
end  of  Greece. 

With  the  same  unconcern  which  marked  his  "modern"  aesthetics,  the  Greek 
turned  his  attention  away  from  ethical  problems,  lest  they  might  annoy  or  perplex 
him.  Who  would  listen  to  such  morose  old  croakers  as  Diogenes  or  Democritos?  Who  Seorrand'in?he*'opera. 
cared  for  the  opera  of  ^schylos  or  Sophocles  with  their  exposure  of  guilt?  The  ac- 
knowledgement of  guilt  would  have  forced  upon  a  Greek  the  recognition  of  sin,  which 
recognition,— aesthetics  taught,— was  to  be  abhorred.  It  certainly  was  not  shirked 
because  of  delicacy,  but  because  courage  was  lacking  to  face  sin,  to  hate  it,  and  to 
fight  it.  With  the  same  self-complacency  and  supreme  indifference  in  which  the  later 
Greeks  chided  the  memory  of  ^schylosand  Sophocles,  the  Greek  would  look  over  his  disregard  for  hnman 

•'  "  -^  '  Tights  in  others. 

shoulders  at  a  fellow-man  from  an  adjacent  district.    To  him  a  stranger  was  simply  Barbarians. 
a  barbarian;  towards  a  foreigner  he  did  not  feel  himself  under  any  moral  obligation 
whatever.    Concerning  humane  feelings  the  Greek  was  no  more  cordial  at  home  than 
in  his  behavior  toward  a  member  of  another  clan. 

"The  mutual  relations  of  the  Greek  states  or  tribes— Hermann  observes— rested  upon  the 
idea  that  a  man  had  no  rights  outside  of  his  native  place.  This  is  reason  enough  for  a  condi-  stean^ers!*"  HermIoti. 
tion  of  constant  belligerency  of  every  one  against  all."  Hence  it  was  not  necessary  in  Greece 
to  go  very  far  in  order  to  be  treated  as  a  foreigner.  If  a  stranger  took  his  abode  anywhere  he 
was  put  upon  his  good  behavior,  he  was  to  feel  that  he  was  merely  tolerated.  If  he  contract- 
ed the  displeasure  of  any  native  he  found  himself  an  outlaw.  This  was  an  explicit  doctrine  of 
Aristotle  even.  The  duties  toward  a  barbarian,  if  there  were  any  to  be  observed,  were  simply 
classified  with  those  to  animals.  No  human  sympathy. 

The  same  was  the  case  with  the  domestics,  the  slaves.    It  is  in  the  nature  of  husbandry  ^  ^^'  ^^'  '^^' 

that  they  be  made  use  of;  inasmuch  as  there  are  tools  required,  inanimate  or  living,  and  a  tool 
is  the  property  of  him  who  uses  it,  and  as  human  service  necessarily  belongs  to  a  complete 
outfit,  such  human  tools  are,  therefore,  the  property  of  the  master  of  the  manor. 

Hence  with  all  the  analytical  theorising  about  the  nature  of  things,  and  about 
the  personality,  liberty  and  divine  dignity  of  a  Greek,  pantheism  had  invested  the 
state  with  power  as  absolute  over  the  individual  citizens,  as  the  master  wielded  over 
his  slave.  The  recognition  of  personality  liad  not  as  yet  been  extended  to  the  cognition  of 
humanity. 


162 


DECLINE  OF  ETHICS  AND  ESTHETICS. 


n.  B.  ch.  m.  §  68. 


"  There  is  »methtng 
holy  over  which  the  ^ 
state  has  no  power." 
Antigone. 


Other  protests  against 
the  absorption  of 
individual  rights  by 
the  state. 

So»BAT«S,  EoaiPIDBS, 

PaoTAooaAS,  Ctbics. 


Inhumaneness  of 
Plato. 


Communtstio  practices; 
Family-life  not  recog- 
nised as  the  hearth- 
atone  of  state. 

(171.  Romans  ) 


Children  to  be  glren  np 
to  the  state. 


Wrong  measures  to 
secure  moral  progress. 


Ethics  and  prosperity 
lie  in  the  sphere  of 
"essential  unity  under 
personal  diversity." 

S  6,  113,  159. 

Culture  in 
Homer's  time 

compared  with  that  of 


Periclean  age: 

external  prime ; 
internal  rottenness. 


Judgment  of  this 
period.    Poltbios. 


Venality  of  magistrates; 
•orruptibility  of  judges. 


Good  taste  changed  to 
ottermost  ugliness. 


In  the  tragedies  of  Sophocles  Greece  surpassed  itself,  not  only  as  regards  its  gods ; 
and  its  fate;  but  by  virtue  of  these  tragedies  Greece  became  impressed  with  a  kind  of^ 
premonition.  It  had  a  foreboding  of  a  collapse  of  its  own  social  fabric.  Sophocles  | 
makes  Antigone  utter  the  bold  declaration,  that  "there  is  something  holy  over  which' 
the  state  can  exercise  no  power  I" 

The  meritorious  attempts  of  Socrates  and  Euripides  to  defend  individual  rights 
are  not  to  be  depreciated.  The  part  which  the  Greeks  took  in  the  improvement  of  the 
race  in  general,  secures  their  due  recognition  forever.  Even  the  Cynics  in  their 
quaint  way  assisted  in  solving  the  problem  of  exempting  the  individual  from  the 
capricious  "reasons  of  state".  A  few  others,  like  Protagoras  who  was  banished  for 
those  very  reasons  of  state,  stood  by  the  maxim  that  "  man  is  the  measure  of  all 
things".  But,  after  all,  these  protestants  stood  alone,  comparatively  speaking.  In 
the  state  of  Plato  individual  rights  are  not  as  much  as  alluded  to  with  one  single 
word.  In  all  pagan  nations  it  was  taken  for  granted  that  man  existed  for  the  sake 
of  the  state.  The  state  was  held  to  be  the  center  of  cohesion  in  which  the  indigent 
idea  of  human  unity  found  an  approximate  realisation.  The  state  was  even  deemed  to 
be  the  Supreme  Good. 

Tlie  state  disposes  even  of  the  cliildren.  Before  they  have  outgrown  their  tender  age, 
they  are  to  be  delivered  at  the  public  institutions  for  being  drilled  into  citizenship.  Provi- 
sion ia  made  to  avert  their  acquaintance  with  their  parents  even.  Their  future  occupation 
is  prescribed  by  law.  Individual  property  is  prohibited ;  even  the  females  are  possessed  in 
common. 

So  much  for  concentrated  power  of  state,  of  communism  in  force.  With  nature-bound 
humanity  the  center  of  gravity  lies  always  in  the  direction  of  material  unity  and  generalness 
under  formal  diversity. 

In  matters  of  ethical  elevation  nothing  can  nor  should  be  ever  expected  of  any 
state,  much  less  of  the  political  wisdom  of  the  people  in  classic  times.  It  proves  al- 
ways a  serious  blunder  in  national  economy  to  think,  that,  with  the  increase  of  politi- 
cal weight,  or  with  the  growth  of  the  wealth  of  a  nation,  or  with  sesthetical  re- 
finement and  advance  in  the  arts,  or  with  the  increasing  number  of  law  students, 
the  progress  of  morality  were  paramount,  and  distribution  of  happiness  in  equal 
measure  would  go  hand  in  hand.  Far  from  it.  Ethics,  and  the  commensurate 
spread  of  prosperity  rising  from  or  falling  with, it  lies  in  the  sphere  of  "essential  ^ 
unity  under  personal  diversity". 

The  happy  times  of  Greece  were  those  of  Homer,  when  republican  simplicity  and  fruga- 
lity had  not  yet  been  corrupted  by  putting  on  external  distinctions,  by  luxury  and  its  attend- 
ants:  snobbishness,  envy,  sensualism,  and  effeminacy.  In  those  times  chaste  manners  took 
first  honors  as  illustrated  by  a  Telemachos  and  a  Nausikaa. 

Compare  now  the  age  of  happiness  and  heroism  with  the  Periclean  period  and  its  very 
transient  glory.  What  had  become  of  the  moral  condition  of  Athens  despite  its  refinement, 
wisdom  and  wealth  ?  Of  the  domestic  contentment  and  comfort  and  virtue  of  Telemachos' 
time  scarcely  a  trace  is  left.  In  a  repulsive  manner  slavery  and  "'hetairism"  defile  the  ideal 
beauty  as  exhibited  by  the  circle  of  Pericles'  companions.  Vice  is  cloaked  by  graceful  drapery, 
vice  of  the  most  unnatural  sorts.  Connubial  relations,  the  hearth-stone  of  the  state  and  key- 
stone of  morality,  are  more  than  undermined.  The  main-stays  of  the  state-edifice  are 
rapidly  decaying  with  dry  rot  from  basement  to  pinnacle.  Polybios,  surviewing  the  general 
situation  exclaims :  "Not  even  those  of  the  Greeks  who  have  been  entrusted  with  the  manage- 
ment of  the  afPairs  of  state  are  able  to  remain  honest ;  and  no  more  than  one  talent  may  be  en- 
trusted to  them,  even  if  put  under  the  caution  of  ten  countersignatures,  of  as  many  seals,  and 
twice  as  many  witnesses." 

Extravagance,  lasciviousness  and  indolence  explain  the  venality  of  magistrates, 
and  the  corruptibility  of  judges,  always  the  first  and  surest  omen  of  either  despotism 
or  the  downfall  of  a  state,  generally  of  both.  And  are  not  always  the  lower  classes, 
instead  of  being  upbraided  for  the  degeneracy,  rather  to  be  excused  for  imitating  the 
example  of  "the  better  classes"?  With  ethics  vanishing,  the  aesthetics  turn  to 
vulgarity. 

The  swiftness  of  the  transition,  of  the  change  of  good  tastes  into  uttermost  ugliness  is 
illustrated,^ by  the  phy lakes  painted  upon  the  common  pottery,  and  upon  the  costly  vases  of 
Great  Greece  as  well.  Nothing  can  surpass  the  obscenity  of  these  pictures ;  no  figure  of  speech 
would  answer  in  describing  the  impudency  and  utter  abandonment  revealed  in  the  drawings 
of  these  bufPoons  with  their  phalloses.  One  stands  amazed  at  the  sight  and  understands 
Mommsen's  judgment  upon  the  low,  crafty  'groggery  business  combined  with  the  most 
shameless  brotheldom  of  Athens." 


II B.  Ch.  m.  §  69.  DOWNFALL  OF  GREECE.  163 

§  69.  Greece  has  received  full  credit  at  the  hands  of       historians  for  the  high  es-  Greece's  fast  course 
teem  in  which  the  dignity  of  man  was  held,  and  to  what  high  degree  human  beauty    °^'''^"  •     '"^"■ 
was  valued;  and  for  the  fact  that  the  thought  of  freedom  had  first  dawned  in  Greece.  Hefienism. 
Justly  are  the  Hellenes  praised  for  being  one  of  the  most  illustrious  nations,  far  above 
comparison  with  the  hapless  masses  under  Indian  and  Persian  despotism. 

And  yet  the  benefit  gained  from  Greek  culture  for  the  cause  of  humanity  is  very 
questionable.    Considering  the  seriousness  of  life's  duties  and  the  anxieties  and 
miseries  of  mankind,  in  comparison  with  the  laughing  and  the  fun  with  which  the 
frolicsome  nation  skipped  the  dark  problems      penetrating     into  deep  secrets  below 
the  surface  and  extend  into  realms  above  the  skies:  then  that  nation's  world-consci- 
ousness must  be  adjudged  as  abandoned  to  unmitigated  f rivolousness.  It  was  at  any  *^'^''^®^'*y- 
rate,  unbecoming  a  nation  of  philosophers;  or  it  was  wrong  at  least  that  the  world 
became  accustomed  to  esteem  the  Hellenes  as  such.  For  neither  ignoring  nor  laugh- 
ing will  dispose  of  the  persistently  recurring  questions  of  sin,  guilt,  and  fate;  nor  as- 
suage the  mind  laboring  under  the  dismal  problems.    These  realities  do  not  die  off  by  Laugh  away  sin, 
being  left  to  take  care  of  themselves.    The  policy  of  leaving  them  unmentioned  will  g^üt,  fate,  but  ' 
be  of  no  avail  so  long  as  they  will  not  let  man  alone.    Scurrilousness  will  only  give  man  alone, 
them  chances  to  augment  forces  and  to  gain  area  for       multiplication  and 'for  ag- 
gravating the  predicaments  of  the  race.    Ignoring  evils  does  not  diminish  them; 
neither  does  dare-deviltry  frighten  them  off. 

Fate,  guilt,  and  sin  never  cease  to  announce  their  presence.     Either  one  of  them  or  all 
of  them  at  once  will  show  up  in  the  mystic  circle,  the  guarded  entrance  notwithstanding  — 
will  show  up  even  in  the  sanctuaries.     That  portentous  trio  causes  the  anxiety  upon  which  Sin,  giiilt.  *ate— 
the  tragedy  hinges  in  the  theatre,  in  the  acts  of  sacrifices,  in  oracles,  sorceries ;  the  anxious 
suspense  ever  lurking  close  beneath  the  thin  cover  of  taste,  education,  or  culture.    Wherever 
that  trio  grows  in  the  darkness,  where  its  monstrosity  cannot  be  seen  and  the  sleeping  victim 
is  not  alarmed,  there  the  anxiety  rises  and  knocks  at  man's  inner  door.    Answering  the  knock  Anxious  suspense,  the 
he  finds  it  to  be — our  open  question,  unsolved.     In  the  depth  of  the  soul  it  sighs  from  love  for       §  39,  41, 56, 59, '71,  73. 
the  victim  in  his  peril,— and  is  treated  like  a  prisoner  in  return.      Aroused,  however,  by  the 
persistency  of  this  strange  anxiety,  man  perceives  a  whole  inner  world  opening  with  its  won-  . 
derful  relations  to  a  higher  world.     Man  now  perceives  that  both  of  these  worlds  remained 
shrouded  mysteries  only  because  his  faculties  had  been  allowed  by  his  own  default  to  become 
absorbed  in  the  mere  transient  appearance  as  in  a  dream.     Man  now  recognises,  too.  that  the 
interrelations  of  both  worlds  are  for  his  sake  and  that  his  own  self  is  deeply  concerned  in 
them— and  that  these  relations  had  sufPered  a  great  deal  during  his  sleep.     Man  finds  both  of 
these  worlds  to  be  as  real  as  the  interrelations,  in  behalf  of  which  the  anxiety  gave  utterance. 

If  man  should  prefer  to  ignore  the  knocking,  and  turns  in  continuance  of  his  sleep  and 
his  dream,  the  anxiety,  growing  more  anxious  tho  less  pronounced,  may  retire  too.  With  it 
vanishes  the  revelation— from  consciousness,  but  not  out  of  reality. 

This  process  of  reminding  the  thought,  Greece  experienced  in  the  same  way  as  Forebodings  of 
every  thoughtful  mind  experiences  it,  namely,  through  facts  never  to  be  forgotten,  nor  disaster, 
to  be  laughed  away.    It  was  the  fault  of  the  Greek  mind  that  it  did  not  want  to  sober  1"^^^^"^,^^^'*  °' 
up  and  to  meditate  upon  that  of  which  it  had  been  admonished  by  way  of  premonitory 
presentiments. 

All  at  once  CoRiNTH  was  set  on  fike  at  twenty  places,  under  the  hilarious  sounds  of  Corinth  in 
trumpets.    Bethink  ye  now  of  the  irony  of  fate !     The  blaze  iLiiUMiNATES  the  coiiLAPSE  OF  flames  1 

GLEEFUL  Greece.  The  main  emporium  of  European  commerce,  grown  wealthy  by  the  gold 
of  Asiatic  monarchs  once  sent  as  offerings  to  Aphrodite,  and  by  the  purchase  moneys  for 
articles  of  luxury  and  art  bought  from  its  markets— Corinth  went  down  to  ruin  and  ashes. 
The  black  dust  of  its  palaces  covered  the  whole  of  the  devastated  Peloponnesus. 

Alexander  had  taken  the  notion  to  set  himself  up  as  the  pioneer  missionary  of 
Greek  culture  to  the  barbarous  East.    The  result  in  that  direction  had  been  stagna- 
tion and  entire  cessation  of  Greek  influence.    To  gain  the  world  over  to  better  life  by 
conforming  oneself  to  it  and  adopting  its  ways,  was  the  wrong  method  for  the  great 
Macedonian  to  pursue.    Above  human  error  human  destiny  determined  to  spread  this 
influence  further  west  instead  of  going  back  to  Asia,  and  there  to  make  it  last  under  q^^^^  influence 
a  wonderful- preservation  up  to  this  day.    For,  Greek  thought  and  Greek  patterns  of  «signed  to  the  west. 
beauty  are  things  not  only  of  the  lower  realms  but  pertain  to  the  spiritual  sphere  of 
idealities,  and  cannot,  therefore,  be  doomed  to  annihilation.    Both  of  these  relative  Things 
goods  have  pervaded  the  civilisation  of  Europe,  which  resulted  from  their  blending  impenshab^.  ^^ 
with  German  characteristics  and  with  Christian  culture. 


164 


FOUNDATIONS  OF  ROMAN  GRANDEUR. 


II.  B.  Ch.  IV.  §  70. 


Polar  axis. 
Benares-Rome. 


Similitude  and  yet 
strained  relation 
between  the  four 
Aryan  branches. 


Rome.  Philipo-  Benares. 

polls. 

Marathon. 

Persepolis. 

martial 


Latins.  Persians. 

Greeks.        Hindoos. 


speculative. 
Situation  of  Rome. 


Nations  of  Latin  idiom. 

NiCBVHB. 


Roman 
purposeness, 
united  efforts, 
discipline. 


Patriarchal  elements 

MOMMSEN. 

1 1  63,  56,  GnzoT.) 
(g  172  Pop«.) 


Nudity  in  Greece. 
Toga  emblemafic  of 
Rome. 


Parity  of  conjugal  life 
demands  strictness  of 
justice. 


Genesis  of  Roman 
jurisprndence. 


CH.  IV.    INDO-OERMANS.    OCCIDENTAL:    RIGHT  WINQ  OF  WESTERN  ARYANS: 

2.    THE  ROMANS. 

§  70.  Led  on  by  ideas  and  events  we  further  trace  the  line  of  progress  among 
the  Aryans.  It  moves  westward  until  it  reaches  from  Benares  to  Rome.  What  ren- 
dered the  characteristics  of  India  and  Persia  at  variance,  also  distinguishes  Hellas 
and  Rome.  Rome  represents  the  other  pole  of  the  tension  between  India  and  Italy. 
Between  them  Persia  and  Greece  form  the  inward  now  neutralised  conductors. 
Under  the  strain  between  Persepolis  and  Phillipopolis  the  wires  became  crossed,  as 
it  were,  at  Marathon.  The  Persians  on  the  right  wing  of  the  eastern  Aryans  take  a 
rest,  whilst  the  Greeks  withdraw  from  the  left  wing  of  the  western  Aryans  and  give 
room  to  the  Romans,  their  successors  in  operating  at  the  ethical  apparatus.  The 
Greeks  had  many  traits  of  character  in  common  with  the  Persian-Hindoos,  whilst  in 
swift  energy  and  practical  sense,  for  a  length  of  time  also  in  discipline  and  upright- 
ness, the  Romans  resemble  the  Persians.  Despite  the  affinities  between  India  and 
Hellas  the  polarities  plying  between  Greece  and  the  East  are  transmitted  to  Rome  in 
order  to  spread  their  full  force  in  the  West  rather  than  to  resume  those  relations 
which  Alexander  had  planned. 

NiebuRr  has  assig'ned  to  Kome  its  true  position  in  our  science.  Besides  Japygian  and 
Etruscan  elements  we  find  one  specifically  Italic.  As  such  are  to  be  counted  all  the  people 
who  spoke  dialects  of  the  Latin  idiom ;  Umbrians,  Marses,  Volscians,  and  Samnites.  Those 
Italians  came  into  the  peninsula  from  the  north.  The  trail  of  the  Umbric-Sabellian  tribe  is, 
according  to  Mommsen,  still  traceable  from  north-east  to  south-west  across  the  central  crest 
of  the  Apennines. 

From  the  Umbrian,  Sabellian,  and  Oscian  tongues  the  language  of  Latium  arose  into 
that  prominence  which  nobody  dreamt  of  in  those  days  of  small  beginnings.  It  became  the 
vernacular  ofthat  set  of  people  which  was  destined  to  fix  the  cardinal  principles  of  jurispru- 
dence and  of  constitutional  government.  This  language  and  these  people  were  remarkably 
well  adapted  for  political  supremacy  by  virtue  of  their  organisatory  talents ;  altho  the  first 
legislative  movements  of  the  Latins  were  incited  by  the  Greeks. 

Rome  directed  its  entire  energy  to  the  definite  purpose  of  becoming  the  leading 
town  of  the  adjacent  districts  and  thus  became  the  stronghold  of  Latium. 

Bent  upon  this  single  issue  its  citizens  soon  made  their  influence  tell.  Deter- 
mined to  obtain  the  end  in  view  they  lost  no  opportunity  and  spared  no  effort  to 
realise  the  object  of  their  ambition.  With  every  step  forward  they  exercised  purpose- 
ness and  public-mindedness,  and  practiced  progressiveness  and  aggressiveness  under 
the  discipline  of  unity.  Clannish  pride,  based  upon  strict  observation  of  customs 
agreed  upon,  was  the  motor  nerve  of  Roman  discipline. 

Others  have  verified  what  Mommsen  expounded:  "What  may  be  called  the  patriarchal 
element  in  the  primitive  organisation  of  this  state  has  become  permanently  effective;  it  con- 
sisted above  all  in  the  maintenance  of  the  moral  and  honorable  state  of  matrimony.  Man 
was  compelled  to  live  in  monogamy ;  and  a  case  of  connubial  infidelity  on  the  part  of  a  wife 
was  terribly  punished."  The  difference  between  Roman  and  Greek  deportment  is  delineated 
in  this  observation:  "Among  the  Hellenes  the  gymnastics  of  nude  boys;  among  the  Roman's 
chaste  enwrapping  of  the  body.  The  toga  thus  became  emblematic.  Rome  made  the  family- 
hearth  the  corner-stone  of  the  state." 

On  many  occasions  and  among  all  ranks  this  principle  proved  its  strength.  When  a 
Lucretia  is  disgraced,  or  a  Virginia  insulted,  the  citizens  arise  as  one  man ;  and  the  national 
scorn  is  hurled  upon  a  libertine  regardless  of  his  prominency  or  his  wealth.  Chastity  is  a 
power  tho  jealousy  may  be  its  chief  motive.  And  these  sentiments  remained  in  force  up  to 
those  later  times  in  which  a  Frenchman,  taking  liberties  with  a  lady,  provoked  the  outbreak 
of  the  "Sicilian  Vesper." 

The  sacredness  of  matrimony  demanded  strict  justice.  Upon  that  basis  the 
talent  for  legislation  and  organisation  of  the  state  as  a  household  at  large  became 
developed.  The  ingenuity  for  adjusting  grievances  became  apparent  when  those  of 
whom  advantage  had  been  taken  called  for  equity  and  insisted  upon  a  written  enact- 
ment of  the  simple  code  of  laws  upon  the  twelve  tablets  at  about  Solon's  time ;  whilst 
the  rigidity  of  national  tradition  and  custom  were  allowed  to  remain  unwritten  for 
the  time  being.  Obedience  to  them  was  considered  more  practical  than  engraving 
them  upon  stone  or  bronze.  It  was  only  in  consequence  of  the  increasing  and 
ever  more  complicated  relations  with  cliental,  confederate  and  conquered  states,  that 
these  costumary  laws  had  to  be  modified.    Negotiations  to  that  effect  were  rendered 


n.  B.  CH.  IV.  §  71.  ROMAN  REVERENCE  FOR  THE  DEITY.  165 

consistent  and  organical  by  plebiscita  and  senatorial  resolutions,  by  edicts  of 
magistrates,  consular  treaties  and  imperial  constitutions.  Once  agreed  upon, these  were 
equally  binding  for  everybody,  and  their  authority  was  never  questioned.  All  judic- 
ial instruments  reflect  Roman  sagacity  for  reasons  of  domestic  economy. 

For  centuries  the  Roman  senate  gave  the  noblest  decisions  expressing  the  national  will. 
Its  wisdom  and  consistency,  its  unanimity  and  patriotism,  its  courage,  integrity  and  judicious 
use  of  power  make  the  Roman  senate  the  most  exemplary  assemblage  of  which  history  knows. 
Its  reliability  in  the  dealings  with  allies  or  clients  was  the  secret  of  political  successes 
throughout  a  long  period  of  prosperity.  Even  the  Numandians  were  conciliated  by  the  allow- 
ance to  use  the  Punic  language  on  official  occasions  when  the  government  might  have  been 
justified  in  insisting  upon  their  Latin. 

Besides  that  "bench  of  kings"  the  venerable  "college  of  the  Vestal  Virgins"  de-  ??Pg.tns.*°"^  ^**'*** 
serves  honorable  mention.    Never  shall  history  cease  to  keep  sacred  their  memory 
also.    Into  their  custody  the  domestic  hearth-fire  of  the  state  was  given,  symbolising 
the  high  esteem,  in  which  family  life  was  held  by  the  nation,  because  of  its  funda- 
mental importance  for  the  state.    They  alone  ranked  equal  with  the  august  senate. 
Many  times  they  may  have  acted  "the  power  behind  the  throne",  but  may  not  the  in- 
fluence have  been  the  more  beneficial  for  the  unostentatious  and  benign  manner  in  tj^^  vestai 
which  it  was  exerted?    Throughout  the  whole  period  of  their  existence  as  a  state-in-  ^^^vTi**^'^^?  th 
stitution,  down  to  the  time  of  Stilicho  their  integrity  stands  almost  without  blemisli.  sacredness  of 
whilst  everywhere  else  female  influence  in  public  affairs,  with  comparatively  rare  ex-  ^d  S^iS'pTt  u^ii\fe 
ceptions,  causes  Clio  to  blush.  tTtrJ] '' '"'""'"" " 

§  71.    Rome   soon   became   conscious  of  her    advantages  ;  but  rely  on  empty 
fame  for  being  respected  she  would  not.    It  was  to  be  the  right  that  should  clothe  her 
with  might.    And  history  could  not  but  give  the  impartial  verdict,  that  it  was  the 
cause  of  right  which  triumphed,  when  Rome  accomplished  her  greatest  feat  in  pun-  „„^cithf  *  ^  ^'^^ 
ishing  the  Punians  by  exterminating  Carthage.  ""^   "^'  '««^8»-  ^^a,  m 

Great  thoughts  were  not  altogether  absent  in  the  mercantile  city.'Hannibal  had  a  few  of 
them.  But  that  state  was  destitute  of  any  discipline  whatever,  until  it  was  too  late  to  bring 
some  system  into  the  municipal  management.  Rich  Carthage  was  lacking  in  what  Rome  pos- 
sessed, not  credit  but  trust  in  her  treaties.    With  this  lack  another  was  combined.    The  city  of  r*t°  °^  mercenary 

,,  ,-  ■,.,  ,  .,,.,,  traits  of  Carthage.     866. 

commercial  travellers  and  without  any  regard  to  conjugal  life,  and  consequently  without  suf- 
ficient manliness  left  to  restrain  that  heat  of  sexual  excess  which  as  a  general  thing  goes  to- 
gether with  cold  cruelty,  owes  it  to  the  Semitic  Moloch-cult,  that  it  is  branded  with  the  imfamy 
of  cultivating  this  combination  of  carnal  lewdness  and  blood-thirst. 

Of  the  deeper  roots  of  Roman  morality  and  legalism  we  soon  become  aware  from  Religion  the 
what  the  Greek  Polybios  shows:    "It  seems  to  me  that  the  main  cause  of  Rome's  su-  foundation  of 

.  "^   ,  ,    .  Koman  greatness 

premacy  lies  in  the  high  opinions  of  the  Romans  in  general  about  their  gods.    What  §  24,  34,  43,  47, 54, 
other  nations  have  vituperated  as  being  a  fault  appears  to  be  the  tie  which  binds  their  93,'  96^  125,' 126^131! 
state  together.    I  refer  to  their  reverence  for  the  deity.    For  in  exalting  the  gods      ^^^'  ^^'^'  \^f  J^» 
and  at  the  same  time  conceiving  them  as  so  intrinsically  interwoven  with  private 
and  public  life,  the  Romans  excel  other  peoples  in  a  degree  which  makes  a  higher  PoLVBior^  " 
grade  of  devoutness  impossible". 

The  system  of  the  Roman  deities  never  received  that  finish  which  Hesiod  gave 
to-Kxreek  mythology,  or  which  the  Greek  accredited  to  the  Romans.    Their  confederate  Religion  made 
cities  adopted  gods  without  finish,  if  they  only  could  be  taken  into  practicable  service  the  means  for 
by  the  state.    The  Romans  never  became  so  enthusiastic  about,  or  so  familiar  with  ^^  ^  ^^^ 
the  gods  as  the  Greeks  had  been.    Fearing  the  gods  made  the  union  firm,  and  pre-  ?eryice^orthet'Ja?e^ 
served  and  protected  domestic  life;  much  more  was  not  required  of  them.  ^  ^''  *^^'  ^^ 

under  these  circumstances  it  was  found  expedient  to  utilise  the  reverential  spirit  TheSiTS  ^m^S  ** 
by  promoting  polytheism  to  the  rank  of  the  imperial  religion.  rehgion. 

But  beneath  the  ofiicial  cult,  under  cover  of  public  service  to  the  oflScial  gods,  or 
rather  the  service  of  the  gods  to  the  state,  we  again  perceive  the  occult  preposses- 
sions, hidden  in  the  old  substratum,  manifesting  their  eruptive  force  by  breaking 
through  the  surface  even  of  the  established  state-religion. 

Religious  notions 

This  basal  mixture  of  tradition  and  superstition  had  grown  up  from  Sabino-Latin,  ^ubltratum"*  **** 
Tuscian,  and  Etrurian  seeds,  notwithstanding  the  reforms  of  Numa,  which  however  were  also  §  42,  45,  48,54,  55,  57, 58, 
ascribed  to  Pythagoras.        Under  this  aspect  alone  it  becomes  clear  how  the  worship  of  the    ®^'  ^'  ^^'  ^^'  ^^,'o^f'i^; 
Manes  crept  in,  and  whence  the  little  house  idols,  bandaged  in  dog's  skins,  came  from.  Etrurian  snake-worähip. 

Etrurians,  Sabines  and  Marses  were  known  for  their  snake- worship  in  early  times;  their  *^^*°- 
vampirism  is  expressly  set  forth  by  Ovid  as  very  ancient.    With  the  fear  of  the  Lamies  was 


166 


Roman  character  legible 
from  its  architecture. 


Not  the  temple  should 
monopolise  the  attention 


Display  of  power  and 
pomp  in  order  to 
command  universal 
respect  of  the  state. 


Wealth  without 
education  corrupts 


Art  prostitutes  itself. 
%  67,  125,  126, 137,  139, 
§  150,  190. 


Limits  of  power. 
Leckt. 


Slave  hunts  in  Syria. 

PlAUTUS. 


Parallel  to  present 
"Social  Problem." 


Labor  and 

Capital. 

MOMMSKK. 


Slave  labor;  accumula- 
tion of  real  estate ; 
foreclosed  mortgages; 
middle  class  subsiding. 

Agrarian  legislation. 
Tib.  Gracchus, 
L.  V.  Rahkk. 


Carse  of  slavery. 


Citizens  deprived  of 
rights  and  liberty  for 
reasons  of  state. 


Limit  of  ancient 
ethics : 
Inhumaneness. 


ARCHITECTURE  REVEALING  NATIONAL  ECLECTICISM  AND  DECLINE.    II.  B.  Ch.  IV.  §  72. 

blended  the  fear  of  the  Striges  and  of  the  throngs  of  wandering  Larvae— the  souls  of  the  de- 
parted. It  would  not  have  been  necessary  to  introduce  the  Thessalian  and  Kolchian  arts  of 
sorcery  since  the  preparation  of  magic  drinks  and  the  manufacture  of  protective  charms  had 
been  practiced  in  Italy  a  long  time  previous  to  Numa's  innovation. 

Architecture,  such  as  Rome  had  on  hand  worthy  of  that  name,  had  at  first 
been  left  under  the  direction  of  Greek  masters.  Gradually  Rome  developed  this  art  in 
its  own  way,  being  bent  upon  producing  effect,  upon  commanding  respect.  Hellenic 
beauty,  posing  on  self  conscious  elegance  and  ease,  or  in  majestic  simplicity,  had  to 
recede;  first  in  the  details,  and  soon  after  also  in  general  composition.  The  Romans 
would  not  allow  the  temples  to  monopolise  their  attention.  The  state  demanded  a 
representation  of  its  power  and  pomp.  A  spoiled  populace  had  to  be  pleased,  which 
could  only  be  done  by  the  hugeness  of  the  theatres,  the  banquet  halls,  and  baths.  The 
well-proportioned  Greek  pillar,  corresponding  with  the  style  and  use  of  a  building, 
was  put  upon  a  solid,  stern-looking  stone  cubit.  What  had  been  gained  in  grace  and 
delicacy  during  the  short  Periclean  period,  became  in  the  Augustean  age  changed 
into  self  conscious  pride  and  grave  dignity,  in  accord  with  the  greatness  and  the 
splendor  of  the  monarchy.  In  the  silver-age  of  Latin  literature  that  originality  and 
large-mindedness  begins  to  sink  together  with  thoughtf  ulness,  decaying  undei"  the 
"study  of  words"  and  rhetorical  dilettanteism. 

Seasons  of  political  intrigue  and  rule  of  the  money-bag  are  not  conducive  to  art.  It  fails 
under  temptation  and  prostitutes  itself  by  making  money  out  of  uncultured  and  pretentious 
but  stingy  parvenues.  Buildings  are  overladen  with  ornaments.  The  colosseum  must  unite 
every  style  of  Greek  taste  with  Roman  gravity,  now  consisting  of  quantitative  heaviness. 
What  of  the  noble  forms  of  Hellas  had  been  preserved  became  by  Roman  contractors  dissemi- 
nated throughout  the  whole  empire.  We  find  Roman  masonry  on  the  tombs  of  Petra  near 
Mt.  Sinai,  and  in  Treves  beyond  the  Rhine;  from  the  Atlas  to  the  bridge  of  Nismes,  and  from 
the  wall  of  the  Picts  to  the  towers  along  the  lower  Danube.  This  brings  us  to  the  limits  of 
the  thought  to  which  Rome  owes  its  greatness. 

§  72.  Saying  with  Lecky  that  "the  limits  of  the  Roman  empire  went  not  much 
further  than  its  moral  feelings"  may  be  taken  as  rather  exaggerated;  but  it  con- 
tains  the  substance  of  a  correct  syllogism.  Ofiicially  appointed  slave-hunts  kept  up 
slavery.  The  Syrians— that  sort  of  people  which  Plautus  thought  the  most  suitable 
material — were  dragged  from  their  homes  by  revenue  collectors,  and  brought  to 
market  in  large  droves  by  the  traders  of  Cilicia  and  Crete.  And  the  trade  grew  in 
proportion  to  the  accumulation  of  wealth  in  the  hands  of  a  few  land  monopolists. 

The  oppression  of  labor  by  capital  caused  the  Gracchian  disturbances,  inasmuch  as 
labor  had  been  cheapened  through  the  slave-trade.  "Formerly  the  small  farmer  had  been  made 
a  dependant  by  ready  advances  of  money-loans  at  usurious  rates  of  interest,rendering  him  the 
tenant  of  a  lord  who  exacted  exorbitant  ground  rents.  But  now  he  was  driven  to  extremes 
by  the  competition  of  cheap  grain,  raised  upon  transmarine  latifundia  by  slave  labor. 
Mommsen  could  form  this  conclusion  without  much  strain  of  reason ;  but  at  the  time  the  con- 
sequences to  which  matters  drifted,  could  scarcely  have  been  foreseen.  Yet  some  seem  to 
have  anticipated  that  the  impoverishment  of  the  agricultural  middle  class  would  mean  the 
ruin  of  the  free  state. 

Tiberius  Gracchus  on  a  journey  through  Etruria— according  to  a  remark  by  Plutarch 
which  L.  V.  Ranke  has  brought  to  our  notice— observed  to  his  dismay  what  danger  threatened 
the  state  from  the  growth  of  a  population  living  under  the  slave-like  condition  in  which  he 
found  the  descendants  of  prisoners  of  war.  His  proposed  bills,  aiming  at  the  preservation  of 
a  middle  class  by  granting  freedom  to  country  people  and  civil  rights  to  the  plebeians  were 
the  issues  of  this  conviction.  Where  the  curse  of  slavery  is  lurking,  from  thence  the  friend  of 
the  people  and  of  the  state  sees  the  public  peril  ensuing.  In  the  face  of  this  fact  the  fortunes 
of  the  Roman  state  were  not  to  be  repaired  by  enjoining  laws  upon  conquered  nations,  whilst 
"the  city"  reserved  to  itself  all  legislative,  judiciary  and  military  prerogatives.  It  must 
accrue  to  the  contrary  of  welfare  to  invent  measures  enabling  the  rich  the  more  to  press  down 
poor  citizens  at  home ;  or  to  grant  a  few  provincial,  but  actually  mere  municipal,  privileges 
which  only  burdened  the  grantees. 

Here  lay  the  perilous  breakers.  Along  this  line  ran  the  limit  of  all  ancient 
ethics:  presumptive  arrogance,  domineering  selfishness— inhumanity!  Principles  of 
utilitarianism  were  to  veil  the  inhuman  ownership  of  human  beings  as  tools.  Since 
slaves  are  outlaws  and  means  of  enrichment,  it  was  in  the  interest  of  the  rich  to  re- 
duce as  many  as  possible  to  a  condition  of  slavish  dependency.  When  men  allow 
themselves  to  become  inured  to  the  idea  that  right  is  a  matter  of  mere  privilege,  de- 
pending on  the  favors  of  a  few  who  have  power  to  ruin  any  one,  then  liberty  can  no 
longer  be  assigned  as  the  common  inheritance  of  man  as  such;  then  none  but  those 


n  B.  Ch.  IV.  §  72.  STOICISM :  two  sets  of  ethics.  167 

may  lay  claim  to  liberty  who  have  a  share  in  power  and  influence.  Liberty  in  the 
Roman  republic  soon  became  a  delusion,  a  mere  name  taken  for  the  emblem  of  free- 
dom which  in  reality  meant  nothing  but  class-rule.  No  emperor  nor  law  could 
change  the  course  of  affairs  which  Gracchus  had  thought  to  be  avoidable  in  the 
beginning. 

Stoicism  may  be  considered  as  the  culmination  of  ancient  ethics.    But  even  the  Criticism  of 
admirer  of  that  school  of  philosophy  must  concede,  that  it  contain^tWo  sets  of  moral  ^^^  g^^^  ^Stoism: 
laws:  one  for  the  illiterate  people,  the  other  for  practicing  dialecticians.    The  latter  morals, 
hold,  that  to  suffer  is  equivalent  to  being  foolish.     Suffering  is  the  outgrowth  of 
ignorance.    But  neither  suffering  nor  ignorance  is  held  as  standing  connected  with 
sin.    The  custom  to  judge  people  by  their  success  makes  something  else  the  criterion 
of  badness.    Concerning  this  essential  matter  stoic  sophistry  takes  the  following 
jumps  toward  its  conclusion:  "The  poor  are  ignorant,  but  the  Vitium'  consists  in  the  Avoidance  o« 
poverty,  hence  the  fault  lies  in  being  poor;— poverty  is  the  sin/*  This  was  the  gist  of  have^^ccefsTs* vSu^ 
the  aristocratic  set  of  morals  in  the  Stoa:    "If  you  would  accept  of  our  wisdom  you  "vultST"'' 
would  become  rich  and  be  virtuous.   For,  to  be  virtuous  is  tantamount  to  being  wise. 
To  be  wise  consists  in  avoiding  unpleasantness  and  in  joining  the  Stoa.    Whoever 
neglects  to  do  that  has  to  blame  himself  for  his  troubles;  he  is  justly  to  be  blamed  by 
others  for  the  vice  of  being  poor,  and  has  no  right  to  expect  the  sympathy  of  the  wise  no  sympathy  wuh 
people."    Everybody  understands  this  to  be  virtually  the  chief  maxim  of  the  Stoa:  at    "  ^°*"'     §  55,  ss,  es. 
bottom  nothing  but  a  cheap  excuse  for  heartlessness.    Its  assumed  attitude  of  resig- 
nation, its  voidness  of  feeling,  its  unconcern  about  the  world  and  feigned  contempt  Rights  as  wen  as  duties 
of  it ,  its  cosmopolitan  talk  of  humanism  were  only  so  many  pharisaeical  affecta-  p'^^t'^'^^y  ^^'''^^• 
tions  to  conceal  the  contradictions  of  the  pretentious  theory. 

Well  then,  the  unsophisticated  poor  Roman,  disqualified  for  reaching  up  to  Stoic- 
ism, needs  to  follow  only  the  common  kind  of  morality.    He  will  obey  the  prescrip- 
tions of  the  law  and  fulfill  the  customary  performances  expected  of  a  good  standing 
citizen.    The  only  trouble  with  this  moralism  is  that  such  performances  and  con- 
ventionalities are  detached  from  thinking  and  willing  personal  life.     Of  the  signifi-  no  idea  of  the 
cance  of  this  prerequisite  of  morality  nobody  in  classic  times  had  an  idea.    Good  ^efson  **iit*^^n 
behavior  is  a  mere  mechanical  habit  and  as  such  not  to  be  considered  as  an  expres-  classic  times, 
sion  of  the  mind  and  not  entitling  man  to  the  value  of  a  character  of  his  own.  Mind- 
ing the  law  is  thereby  rendered  the  mere  product  of  external  circumstances.    No 
wonder  that  under  such  repudiation  of  personal  honor  the  services  go  scarcely  as  far 
as  the  servant  is  pushed  and  kept  under  surveillance.    Of  course,  detached  from  per- 
sonal consciousness  and  cheerfulness,Buch  "dead  works  of  the  law"  have  no  ethical 
value.    If  works  are  "dead"  then  their  value  can  only  lie  in  themselves,  in  their  no  personal  vaiuc,  no 

.    .  .  "  other  merit  than  utility. 

utility.    Then  a  deed  conveys  no  personal  merit,  consequently  man  cannot  but  be  (m  contrast  to  Persians 
taken  as  a  mere  utensil. 

As  a  further  result  of  this  theory  of  legalism  the  state  has  appropriated  all 
human  rights  to  itself  ;  and  the  state  being  conceived  as  identical  with  government  None  but  representatives 
it  follows  that  none  but  the  representatives  of  rule  have  rights.  Hence  the  unbear-  ove^bearhTgof*^*^ 
able  overbearance  of  a  bureaucracy.    But  since,  at  the  same  time,  the  works  of  a  ^'"^'(BuSaucracy) 
law-abiding  people  are  not  done  in  a  cheerful  compliance  with  duty,  or  from  unsel- 
fishness, it  follows  that  man  merely  gets  his  deserts,  i.  e.  that  which  a  thing  deserves. 
He  is  worth  what  he  earns  ;  his  esteem  rises  with  the  taxes  he  pays  to  the  state  ; 
otherwise  he  has  no  merit  worth  the  person. 

The  ethical  results  of  Stoicism  are  therefore  easily  summarised :  the  stoic  will  Summary  of 
nurse  his  apathy  and  rid  himself  of  all  earthly  ambitions.    He  will  dismiss  all  stoicffm  upon 
mundane  interests  from  his  mind.    Since  he  finds  it  to  be  a  futile  attempt  to  elevate  social  ethics, 
them  to  his  ideal  of  universality  he  considers  the  furtherance  of  common  welfare  a  Disgust  with  social 
matter  not  worth  his  attention,  a  thankless  job.    Ethics  is  virtually  given  up.  °''^'^''*'*'°''- 
And  what  that  implies  becomes  obvious  when  it  is  remembered  that  ethics  was  the 
private  religion  of  the  schools.    Thus  by  its  legalistic  morality  Stoicism  forfeited  by  Ethics  is  given  up,  i.  e. 
default  the  last  consolation  which  cheerful  performance  of  duty  in  the  interest  of  abrndonedlfterTeTng 

,     .  J       /v«       1  mt         ■•    a       -,  s  .  .■.-..  .  indentifled  with 

personal  improvement  affords.    The  default  consisted  in  allowing  personal  merit  to  inteiiectuaiism. 
become  ignored,  and  advocating  the  substitution  of  a  general  state-morality  in  its         >   •   •   ■  ^g- 
place— a  morality  with  the  motto  :  "every  body's  business  is  nobody's." 


168 


ROMAN  SUPERSTITIONS  FROM  THE  SUBSTRATUM. 


n.  B.  Ch.  IV.  §  73. 


Philosophy  can 
not  cope  with 
superstition. 

§  11.  15,  22,  23,  24, 
46,47,  57,58,65,73, 
81,65,95,98,170,197, 


Leg-alism  and 
formalism  the 
characteristics 
of  Romanism. 


Koiuan  legalism 
compaied  with  the 
Jewish. 

"Catechism  of 

unforbidden 

actions." 

MOMMSBN.  8  1(>1' 

Mysterious  anxiety 
despite  the  affectation  of 
heroism. 

I  39,  41,  66,  59,  69,  71, 
96,  109,  113. 


Roman  practical  sense 
wards  off  evil  and 
attracts  good  powers — 
to  make  them  subserve 
selfish  ends.      $57,62,71. 


Superstition 
ever  nurtured 
from  the  deep 
substratum 
underneath  the 
shallow  official 
religion. 

§  42,  45,  47,  49,  54, 

55,  57.  .58,  65,  66,  71, 

72,  78,  83,  86, 109, 

135,  146. 


Predilection  of  old 
aristocracy  for  old 
reminiscenses : 

f  36,  67,  78,  137. 


The  brilliant 

umbel. 

§  78,  202. 


Roman  culture  the 
most  advanced 
product  of  antiquity. 

Comparison 
between  the 
characters  of 
orientiil  and 
occidental 
Aryans. 


§  73.  It  would  have  been  worse  than  unnecessary  to  dwell  upon  Stoic  ethics,  had 
there  not  been  something  else  connected  with  it.  The  Greek,  it  has  been  said,  appro- 
priated and  assimilated  external  matters  in  the  mind,  whilst  the  Romans  rendered 
formal  and  forensic  even  the  most  spiritual  things  of  the  world  of  thought,  the  most 
intrinsic  concerns  of  personal  life.  There  was  no  action,  no  sacrificial  celebration  in 
which  a  portentous  omen  might  not  occur,  or  mistake  be  made,  necessitating  a 
literal  repetition»  of  the  ritual.  Words  and  symbolic  rites  were  thought  to  work  in 
such  magical  and  legal  punctiliousness  as  that  the  efläcacy  of  the  whole  act  was 
rendered  doubtful  by  the  least  error  or  mishap. 

We  find  consciousness  under  a  stress  of  legalism  and  formalism  which  needs 
another  explanation  than  that  obtained  by  a  circulus  in  probando.  For  this  would 
be  all  that  Stoicism  would  amount  to,  if  we  would  rest  with  having  explained  Roman 
legalism  and  formalism  by  the  abstractions  "Law"  and  "State." 

True  enough.  Rituals  and  cultus  were  the  official  expressions  of  civil  polity  as  formu- 
lated by  the  state.  Being  affairs  of  government  they  finally  may  have  transformed  individual 
consciousness  and  private  life  to  the  stamp  of  their  tentative  bearings,  analogous  to  the  in- 
fluence of  custom  or  the  "spirit  of  the  times."  In  this  respect  Mommsen's  word  has  much 
weight:  "Morality  with  the  Jews  and  the  Romans  was  a  catechism  or  index  of  deeds  either 
allowable  or  unforbidden."  Yet  there  is  more  than  an  habitual  legalism  at  the  root  of  the 
ceremonial  punctiliousness  alluded  to. 

We  can  not  fail  to  observe  that  the  "mysterious  anxiety"  has  a  great  deal  to  do 
with  the  painful  uncertainty  of  ceremonious  devotion,  even  with  the  Romans.  Their 
heroism,decisiveness  and  assurance  of  final  success  notwithstanding,  the  Roman  con- 
sciousness is  as  much  afraid  as  we  found  that  of  the  Greeks,  despite  their  hilarity 
and  familiarity  with  the  gods;  in  spite  of  their  boast  of  fearing  neither  fate  nor  the 
Styx. 

Why  did  the  "portenta"  i.  e.  the  ominous  signs  which  the  haruspex  or  the  augur  pretended 
to  find  at  the  "auspices",  why  did  they  wield  such  a  power  over  Roman  consciousness?  The 
belief  in  both,  omens  and  auspices,  again  indicates  the  presence  of  that  darkness  solidified 
in  the  substratum.  In  precarious  situations  consciousness,  in  the  ratio  of  its  darkening,  feels 
compelled  to  either  ward  off,  or  conciliate,  or  bribe  the  powers  of  evil  by  scrutinous  observ- 
ances, by  the  use  of  magic  formulas  and  rituals  and  charms,  or,  on  the  other  hand,  people 
contrive,  by  means  of  odd  usages  and  "sympathetic"  applications,  to  attract  good  spirits  for 
succor ;  in  short,  to  use  either  power  for  selfish  ends.  All  this  goes  to  prove  that  the  mind, 
even  in  its  natural  bondage  and  inverted  foreboding  of  its  rescue,  becomes  conscious  of  its 
innate  destiny  to  become  selfdetermined  and  to  master  the  situation. 

This  ominous  suspense,  assisting  man's  promptings  to  rise  above  himself,  belongs  none 
the  less  to  that  form  of  wretchedness,  in  which  we  found  enthralled  the  nature-bound  people 
of  Inner-Africa  and  Oceania  even  up  to  the  mouth  of  the  Obi  river.  Herein  Rome  we  find 
that  anxious  suspense  covered  up,  not  very  deeply  at  that,  by  a  layer  of  higher  religious  culture 
wrought  into  every  form  of  cultural  life ;  covered  by  a  growth  of  religious  offshoots  which  had 
crept  hither  from  foreign  fields,  but  were  now  thoroughly  Romanised.  Here  as  well  as  in 
Greece  the  lower  layer  shines  through  the  upper  crust,  just  as  the  Christian  inscription  around 
the  cupalo  of  St.  Sophia  strikes  through  the  Moslim  plastering  fortunately  in  reverse  order. 
The  same  old  priestcraft  of  sorcery  again  p)rotrudes  in  the  various  manipulations,  whenever  the 
intestines  of  this  or  that  fowl  are  examined,  under  sanctimonious  mock-solemnity,  as  to  their 
indications  of  the  human  fate. 

With  these  superstitious  practices  that  old  Roman  ancestor-worship  stands  con- 
nected, for  which  old  nobility  has  the  more  predilection  the  older  (and  of  course 
nobler  in  the  esteem  of  insipid  folks)  it  becomes.  Of  the  high  and  brilliant  umbel 
crowning  the  poisonous  flower-stalk  of  this  plant  we  shall  see  mqre  anon. 

The  family  altar  of  the  Romans  with  its  Penates  is  essentially  what  the  mirror  is  to  the 
Japanese;  with  this  difference  however,  that,  what  appears  childish  and  weird  in  Asia  be- 
came, by  the  occidental  and  by  the  Roman  mind  most  conspicuously,  transformed  into  hero- 
worship— which  also  will  turn  up  again  before  our  view. 

Upon  the  whole  it  will  always  have  to  be  admitted,  that  the  man  of  the  antique 
climbed  the  highest  notch  of  his  scale  in  Italy.  Earnest  in  action,  honoring  age  and 
parentage,  respectful  to  womanhood,  loving  his  country,  and  fearing  the  gods,  are 
qualities  of  the  Roman  which  by  far  excel  all  those  of  the  other  ancient  nations 
combined. 

Those  Romans  were  a  matter-of-fact  people,  just  the  opposite  from  what  the  Hin- 
doos are,  that  nation  of  contemplation.  The  Romans  made  history  and  wrote  it,  in 
polar  contrast  to  the  Hindoo  cousins  who  doze  and  dream.  The  epic  is  common  to 
both  on  account  of  their  Aryan  descent,  but  a  sense  of  history,  besides  the  Greeks, 


il.  B.  Ch.  IV.  §  74.  BESUME :  mabks  of  aryan  superiority. 


169 


only  the  Romans  possessed.    Rome  in  the  prime  of  its  manhood  is  the  best  type  of 
the  Aryan  stock  down  to  the  time  of  its  decline. 

The  three  stories  of  the  theatre  of  Marcellus  symbolise  the  three  epochs  of  Roman  cul-  Marceiius'  theatre  in 
ture.  The  Doric  colums  below  remind  one  of  the  Spartan  firmness  and  simplicity  in  the  time  of  ''^  architecture 
the  rise  of  the  republic.    In  the  second  story  the  Ionian  column,  symbolising  a  free  horizon,  of^cuhure***'*^  periods 
shows  how  the  Roman  character  had  become  tempered  during  the  time  of  the  constitutional      Doric: 
struggles  and  intestine  conflicts.    It  was  then  that  the  Roman  seized  the  world  and  the  city  re'^ubir*  ^^^    v  t 
made  herself  ready  to  become  its  mistress.    The  third  story  column,  the  Corinthian,  pictures      To   '    •  '  ^ 

the  artful  coquetry,  the  levity  and  luxury  of  the  imperial  period,  and— the  collapse  of  the  Widening  horizon, 
Colosseum.    We  do  not  now  enlarge  upon  the  latter  period.     We  wait  for  the  results  to  be  '^°'>'"*""°"*i  struggles. 
summed  up,  when  the  whole  realm  of  the  Mediterranean  basin  in  the  golden  Augustean  age  Coq^et^yfievity.^iJucury 
has  become  Romanised  to  the  full  extent.  —and  collapse.  ' 

§  74.    Closing  the  review  of  Greece  and  Rome,  of  the  Aryan  Occident,  as  far  as  it 
then  had  become  historic,  we  square  our  accounts  with  them  as  we  did  with  India         aryan 
and  Persia.    We  are  thereby  still  more  confirmed  of  the  importance  of  our  discovery     ppoio  '^  *^^" 
that  among  the  four  branch  lines  crosswise  correlations  and  interrelations  existed.         inter- 
These  were  not  construed  to  suit  our  system.    In  arranging  them,  we  simply  follow-     Relations. 
€d  the  order  in  which  they  actually  resulted  from  their  interorganic  connection  by  incarnations. 
force  of  polarities,  as  the  natural  outgrowth  of  history  in  its  working  after  a  plan  SmT^'cfeminine)  """^ 
and  for  a  purpose.    Evidently  there  is  method  in  the  onward  and  westward  move-  ^''"'"'"conductors!^^^^^ 
ment  of  culture  and  improvement  of  the  race.    The  feature  of  feminine  passiveness,  ^^^^^^  ^^.^.^^^  ^^«'^ 
selfdevotion,  yea  selfabnegation  predominant  in  the  eastern  branch,  we  find  to  have  ^^^^-         dent*.lism. 
become  superseded  by  manly  self  assertion  and  activity  in  the  West.    There  thought    -apotheoses. 
in  the  process  of  sublimating,  here  action  determined  to  cause  further  activity. 

What  fruits  then  did  the  four  branches  of  Aryan  culture  yield?    In  the  first  place 
we  recognised  the  wrinkled  features  of  the  "image",  in  other  words,  the  faded  rem-  ^itu?S  **^  *^^ 
nants  of  a  monotheistic  consciousness  deep  in  the  background  of  the  human  being,  advance  among 
which,  howsoever  deranged,  is  found  innate  within  every  member  of  the  family.    We  ^   *  ^    ryans: 
found  monotheistic  traditions  embodied  in  symbolical  acts,  never  understood  but  ever 
venerated  as  family-heirlooms,  reminders  of  the  common  home  and  the  happy  days  of 
«hildhood.    We  found  them  a  fragment  here  and  a  vestige  there  strewn  over  the  en- 
tire area,  lying  about  on  top  of  the  lower  layers  as  a  confusing  mixture. 

The  innate  remnants  were  faintly  felt ;  altho  misunderstood  because  of  their  mutilated  Remnants  of  primitive 
condition,  they  were  always  discernable  from  among  the  bundle  of  anxieties  and  abominations,  '*  'm2"  47^4^,  53, 55,  57, 
and  separable  from  the  superstitions  about  ghost  and  demon,  snake  and  fetish.  .  We  found  ^'*'  ^^• 

the  latter  to  be  subversions  and  objectivications  of  those  inner  remnants  or  of  external  sym- 
bols and  traditional  family-heirlooms.  Some  phenomena  we  found  to  be  inexplicable  from 
natural  causes.  Subverted  truths,  by  force  of  their  innateness,  and         occult  phenomena  d?stingl°ished  from 

of  infernal  origin  break  through  the  upper  stratum  in  places  where  superstition  would  have  anxieties,  from  fear  of 
been  least  expected.    Again  and  again  the  better  cultivated  Aryans  were  attracted  by  the  con-  fe^tuhes!  ^°    **' 
undrums  of  the  inner  life,  working  out  systems  and  being  benefitted  by  the  work  in  mental 
elevation.    They  arranged  interrelated  groups  of  higher  and  minor  deities  around  a  common  External  traditions 
center  in  the  dim  distance  of  a  golden  time  —without  finding  a  name  for  it.    They  never  could  with  inner  reminders  of 
rid  themselves  of  the  idea  of  unity  and  were  ever  possessed  by  a  craving  for  centers  of  coher-  ^"^  ^'^^^^  suspense. 
ency .    They  knew  of  myths  about  a  calamity,  a  confusion,  a  dispersion.     We  saw  their  at-  j^  trying  to  solve  these 
tempts  at  remembering  and  sj'stematising  facts  and  fictions,  ideas  and  phantasies,  symbolising  riddles,  Aryans  became 
them  and  idolising  the  symbols.    We  saw  them  personifying  nature  and  objectivising  cogni-  seifcuiture.'°"^ 
tions,  which,  tho  vividly  present,  they  could  neither  account  for  nor  get  rid  of.    We  could  not  §  ^^'  ^^'  '^*'  ^^'  ^~^- 

but  conclude  that  such  attempts  were  practiced  by  vigorous  minds  ripe  with  experience,  and  »^ 

*  .  J        •      ^i.  •     1  j-^  i-    x-  Idea  of  unity  sought 

forming  upper  grades  in  the  social  difirerentiation.  after  in  centers  of 

Not  dispersed  so  far  nor  sunk  so  deep,  as  the  Turanians,  these  Aryans,  on  the    s^^T^s.ei,  75, 79,13a. 
whole,  preserved  and  improved  their  faculties  and  advanced  thereby,  of  course  not  Personifying  nature, 
"Without  leaving  behind  some  of  their  race  who  abandoned  themselves  to  apathy  and  "^''^""'*'  "^^*^ 
sheer  despair.    No  large  part  of  the  Aryans  thus  became  such  decidedly  superior  differentfaw' 
nations,  as  to  gain  the  upper  hand  over  the  inferior.    Spreading  over  the  territories  of  ^<^^*°<=«'"«'^* 
«ubjugated  preoccupants,  each  progressing  in  a  somewhat  different  course,  they  Relapses- 
planted  better,  specific  cultures  in  the  fallow  soil— until  they  in  turn  would  relapse         °'"°*''  lethargy. 
Into  the  wild  nature  of  the  uncultivated  subsoil.  Higher  gifts  and  true 

Besides  those  religious  relics  and  cognitions,  the  Aryans  had  peculiar  gifts  in  common,  pia?n*iy  dIstinguUhaii» 
which,  however,  did  not  cure  them      of     their  proneness  to  adopt  some  other  peculiarities,  ^'^'^  ^^^  ^^^°y- 
lower  than  their  own,  and  to  blend  them  with  their  own.     The  Aryan  mettle,  nevertheless, 
maintained  its  quality  sufficiently  genuine       to  preserve  the  higher  gifts  and  true  intuitions 
plainly  distinguishable  from  the  alloy  of  perverted  consciousness  and  from  poor  imitations. 


170 


WORLD  SORENESS  AND  WORLDLINESS. 


n.  B.  Ch.  IV.  §  74, 


OrMks  and  PeraiaiM 
qualified  for  trans- 
mitting the  effects 
of  ttie  polarity  between 
Benares  and  Rome. 


Feminine  pole: 

selfabuegation. 
Gangres. 

Virile  pole; 

self  assertion. 

Tiber. 

World -soreness : 

transcendentalism . 


Worldliness : 

Inimaneney. 
Orient: 

incarnations. 

Occident : 

apotheoses. 


Thesis: 

Transcenden- 
talism. 

Anti-thesis: 

Immanency. 


The  four  component  parts  of  the  Aryan  family  turned  upon  a  significant  axis. 
Imagine  this  axis  as  a  bipolar  magnetic  bar  whose  forces  grow  the  more  neutral  the 
nearer  they  approach  the  middle.  Upon  that  rather  indifferent  part  of  the  axis,  half 
way  between  the  poles,  Persian  and  Greek  cultures  turned,  both  qualified  for  inter- 
mediating the  polar  fluxes  merely  to  serve  as  good  conductors.  Their  intercommuni- 
cations in  trade  and  in  war  show  their  equalising  effects  as  distributive  agencies,  as 
tho  they  had  agreed  upon  the  execution  of  their  historical  tasks,  and  had  understood 
their  reciprocity  as  having  been  prearranged. 

But  at  the  opposite  ends  of  the  axis  the  full  force  of  the  polar  tension  recuper- 
ates itself.  The  outer  poles  lie  in  Benares  and  Rome,  where  the  extremes  eacli  take 
their  definite  shape.  Yet  they  are  nothing  but  contrasts  under  strain;  hence  the  ex- 
tremes may  meet,  the  tension  may  spend  itself  without  a  discharge,  and  may,  under 
a  neutralisation  of  forces,  come  to  its  equipoise. 

If  we  may  take  the  yearning  of  the  passive  mind,— addicting  itself  to  nature  and 
retiring,  plant-like,  to  sleep— as  the  feminine  pole,  then  this  ceases  to  be  effective 
and  becomes  fixed  on  the  Ganges;  whilst  the  opposite  pole  of  virile  exertion,  deter- 
mined to  master  the  world,  spent  its  energy  on  the  Tiber.  Yonder  the  reality  of  earth- 
ly things  is  reduced  to  mere  illusory  apperception,  despised  and  averted  and  avoided 
under  the  groans  of  world-soreness,  on  account  of  an  ideal  world.  Here  a  real  value  is  as- 
cribed to  the  environments,  founding  that  view  of  life  which  sees  a  moral  destiny 
and  persists  in  the  activity  of  realising  the  purposes  of  real  life.  But  just  as  in  India 
blessedness  is  sought  in  dropping  the  ethical  problems  of  actual  life,  so  Kome  stands 
in  peril  of  worldliness  at  the  expense  of  Heaven. 

In  the  Orient  a  patient  longing  for  incarnations,  an  intense  desire  to  have  the  gods 
dwelling  with  man.  In  the  Occident  an  impatient  impetuousness  in  reverse  manner, 
tending  to  heroism  and  apotheoses,  extolling  man  to  rank  with  the  gods. 

Yonder  the  idea  of  condescension  of  infinity  divine  to  human  nature  in  its  gen- 
eralness;  there  the  ascension  of  personal  man  to  an  indistinct  deity. 

When  we  formulated  the  mode  and  common  characteristics  of  eastern  thought 
into  a  comprehensive  synopsis,  we  termed  it:  TRANSCENDENTALISM. 

Likewise  we  formulate  that  of  the  west  as:  IMMANENCY. 


C     THIRD  DIVISION. 

THIRD  CIRCLE.    THE  NATIONS  AROUND  THE  MEDITERRANEAN  BASIN. 


Analysis  of  the 
ethnical 

compound  in  the 
Roman  crucible. 


Composition  seems  to 
stand  neutralised  in 
the  Mediterranean 
basin  until  tht 
"center  of  cohesion*' 
appears. 

I  42,  47,  61,  74, 133. 


SYLLABUS. 

§  75.  Thus  far  our  object  has  been  to  present  to  our  minds  the  Aryan  culture  in 
the  shape  of  an  edifice,  with  wings  opposite  one  another  upon  a  substructure  of  com- 
pressed life.  This  building  is  reared  upon  a  hardened  and  raw  subsoil  of  Turano- 
Mongolianbeginnings,whichatthis  stage  of  historic  development  as  yet  surrounds 
it  in  an  extensive  compass. 

We  now  proceed  in  outlining  the  third  circle  as  the  narrowest  and  innermost 
compass  of  the  three.  It  encircles  the  basin  into  which,  figuratively  speaking,  all 
elements  of  ancient  history  empty  themselves.  At  a  certain  season  the  solution  ap- 
pears as  if  it  were  neutralised  and  at  a  standstill,  the  boisterous  commotions  going 
on  notwithstanding.  Then  that  powerful  center  of  coherency  is  perceived  to  come 
forth,  around  which  all  the  ascendant  cycles  of  the  ancient  world  had  been  rotating. 
In  the  center  of  the  chaotic  mass  we  observe  the  formation  of  a  nucleus,  around 
which  the  elements  of  a  new  organism  may  silently  concentrate  as  by  a  law  analo- 
gous to  that  of  natural  affinity  ;  and  from  which  subsequently  it  will  permeate  the 
entire  mixture  flown  together  in  the  basin. 


n.  C.  CH.  I.  §  75.  ETHNICAL  COMPOSITION  IN  THE  EOMAN  CRUCIBLE.  171 

Comparing  the  Roman  orb  with  a  basin  will  prove  a  very  appropriate  metaphor.     The  Syllabus, 
component  elements  of  the  chaos  gathering  therein,  the  ingredients  of  the  compound  mixture  Csntents  of  the  chapters, 
have  to  be  isolated  in  order  to  set  some  of  them  free.      There  is,  in  the  first  place,  the  leading 
influence  of  the  "urbs"  itself.     As  the  rivers  tend  to  the  ocean,  so  the  host  of  idols  and  the 
treasures  of  all  the  nations  are  emptied,  almost  in  their  entirety,  into  the  lap  of  the  "Mistress  ^-  ^o™e's  leading^^ 
of  the  World".    The  Olympus  is  extended  into  the  Pantheon.    All  deities  to  be  found  through-      oiympos-Pantheon. 
out  the  whole  monarchy  are  summoned  to  assemble  and  to  pay  homage  to  the  god  of  govern-      Emperor-God. 

Political  forces. 

ment. 

Then  the  Hellenic  influence  is  to  be  taken  into  account.     Together  with  that,  all  the  n.  Greek  influence. 
diverse  grades  of  culture,  the  sum  of  all  the  accomplishments  acquired,  including  mytholog-      Generai^diTsthition 
ical  piety  and  moral  philosophy,  came  flowing  along.    The  states  corroding  in  the  general    «nder  cosmopolitenism. 
dissoluteness,  both  cultus  and  culture  are  set  free,  and  the  mental  forces,  like  escaping  gases, 
spread  and  disinfect  the  historical  atmosphere.    As  soon  as,  for  instance,  the  idea  of  a  cosmo- 
politan citizenship  is  sublimated  from  the  mass,  it  prevails. 

Another  chapter,  the  third  in  this  third  division,  at  last  leads  us  to  investigate  the  third  Hi.  Hamito-Semetic 
and  most  concentric  circle  of  humanity,  and  to  analyse  the  peculiarities  of  the  Semites.  '^^  Substratum!' 

What  had  been    contrived  in  the  Roman  basin,  what  attempts  at  unification  had  been      Chaldeans. 

Lgyptians, 

made  by  Aryan  forces,  was  to  be  brought  into  a  tangible  form  by  Semitic  coefficients.    These      Phenicians. 
factors  we  study  in  the  cultures  of  Mesopotamia  and  iEgypt  where  they  rest  upon  their  Idea  of  universality. 
Cushitic  substratum,  until  we  see  how  among  the  Phenicians  the  Hamito-Semitic  talent 
brings  out  the  idea  of  universality. 

The  fourth  chapter  then  will  acquaint  us  with  the  enigmatical  nation  of  the  Jews.     Its 
peculiar  destiny,  its  particular  position  in  the  world,  and  its  predisposition  of  characteristics  "" 

from  the  beginning,  its  conservatism  and  progress  despite  its  reserved  attitude,  its  persist- 
ency and  preservation  in  the  midst  of  decaying  nations,  its  triumphant  outlook  into  the 
future  whilst  all  other  nations  deplore  only  the  sunny  past,— and  its  remarkable,  final  catas- 
trophe, will  constrain  us  to  concede  to  them  an  exceptional  significance  in  universal  history.  IV.  Contribution 
In  all  this,  and  more,  too,  a  natural  development  of  national  predispositions  is  manifest,  pre-  fj^g  great^adv^nt'^^^'' 
paratory  to  the  entrance  of  an  entirely  new  factor.  For,  in  that  seemingly  insignificant  peo- 
ple the  true  "center  of  coherency,"  the  center  of  equation,"  figuratively  speaking,  comes  to 
view,  around  which,  unbeknown,  all  former  attempts  to  harmonise  thoughts,  to  unify  senti- 
ments, and  to  satisfy  the  soul's  cravings,  all  premonitions,  and  all  aspirations  to  excellency 
had  been  oscillating.  .      , 

CH.  I.    THE  ETHNICAL  COMPOSITION  IN  THE  ROMAN  BASIN. 


§  76.    "Roman  history  overshadows  the  whole  world.    The  wide  compass  of  its  Rome's  significance. 
import  embraces  all  other  events,  engulfs  the  history  of  all  other  nations."  This  is  the  ^'=^™''- 
bearing  upon  history  which  Niebuhr  assigns  to  Rome.    We  shall  see  how  far,  altho  §^^'2? 6rmT27^i33 
not  deep  enough,  he  saw.  ....  j^.  ^^g 

That  wonderful  religious  movement— reformatory  to  a  certain  extent      and  thrilling  ^^  y^üy  among  the 
Asia  at  about  the  time  of  the  destruction  of  Solomon's  temple,— vibrated  through  the  then  people;  only 
known  world  even  to  Japan  from  the  Ganges  to  the  Tiber.    Appearance  of  Buddhism,  reform  conquered  nations, 
of  Confu-tse,  Zoroastrian  reformation,  Israel's  captivity,  Hesiod's  theogony  in  Hellas,  Pytha- 
gorean mysticism  in  Great-Greece,   the  circumnavigation  of  Africa,  the  fall  of  Jerusalem, 
Ninive,  and  Babylon :  these  are  the  wave-crests  of  the  universal  commotion.     The  altitudes  of 
Aryan  cultures  at  about  600  B.  C.  are  marked  by  the  names  of  Gautama,  Hesiod  and  Numa. 

With  the  organisatory  success  of  Numa  the  fundamental  principles  were  laid 
down  which  Rome  never  lost  sight  of  up  to  present  times.  In  the  program  of 
Roman  life  thus  promulgated,  the  genius  is  embodied  which  may  figure  as  the  mold 
by  which  the  cast  of  the  empire  was  determined.  In  vain,  however,  heaves  the 
world-monarchy  under  its,  efforts  to  represent  a  complete  unity.  It  remains  but  a 
conglomerate  of  conquered  states,  which  were  to  smooth  off  each  other  by  grinding, 
analogous  to  that  which  polished  the  granite  blocks  of  the  moraines.  During  the 
operation  the  nations  of  imperial  Rome  became  tired  of  wars  and  lay  down  to  rest, 
as  if  waiting  for  peace.  In  a  sense  the  empire  had  the  aspect  of  an  enormous  ex- 
panse over  which  a  conflagration  had  raged  "where  only  here  and  there— as  Curtius 
says— the  sparks  of  smothered  passions  rekindled  the  flames." 

From  the  latest  ruins  of  Carthage  and  Corinth  columns  of  dense  smoke  as  yet  rolled  up 
and  flames  licked  through.    The  extension  of  the  northern  boundaries  meant  death  to  the 
Illyrian  and  Thrakian  tribes,  who  withered  and  vanished  at  the  approach  of  a  culture  to  or  perishing 
which,  like  the  Indians  in  the  United  States,  they  would  not  conform  themselves. 

On  the  other  hand  strong  peoples  were  called  to  the  front  for  historical  coopera- 
tion. Their  territories  being  drawn  into  national  intercourse  they  helped,  in  the  first 
place,  to  enlarge  the  world's  market. 
14 


waiting  for  peace. 

(Curtius) 


172 


BOMAN  PANDEMONIUM. 


n.  C.  CH.  I.  §  76. 


Connections  of  nations 
by  business  transaction*. 


Commerce  with  China, 
Soudan,  Hercynian 
forests. 


Postal  routes. 
Time  schedules. 


The  part  of  the 
Greeks  in  pre- 
paring g'eneral 
solidarity. 


Role  of  the  Phenicians. 


Necho:  Cape  of  Good 
Hop«  doubled.         g  154. 


Humanising' 
effects  of 
commercial 
intercourse. 

POLVPIOS. 


Pandemonium, 


Shamanistic  elements 


especially  from 
Phrygia. 


Persian 


elements : 


India  along  with  Southern  Arabia  was  seized  by  the  movement,  whereby  both  received 
new  stimuli  for  the  prolongation  of  their  historic  existences.  The  ruins  lately  discovered 
upon  the  coast  of  the  Somali  country  corroborate  this  allegation.  The  Euphrates  countries 
were  prevailed  upon  to  exchange  their  goods  by  way  of  the  Mediterranean  ports.  Even  the 
Hercynian  forest  regions  in  Germany  yielded  contributions  to  the  traffic  now  connecting  the 
marshes  of  the  Vistula  with  the  oasis  of  the  Sahara  and  with  the  Soudan.  The  extensive  sys- 
tem of  overland-routes  was  frequented  by  the  "currus  publicus."  The  connections  of  travel 
and  trade  over  land  and  by  water  were  regulated  by  time-schedules.  Even  with  China  cor- 
respondence was  opened:  the  'silk-road"  to  the  Sererians  went  towards  the  rising  sun  along 
the  northern  slope  of  the  Kuen-lun.  A  Roman  by-way  led  to  the  Lob-nor  through  steppes  in 
which  the  situations  of  numerous  towns  have  been  discovered,  but  which  are  now  avoided  be- 
cause of  the  oppressive  solitude  reigning  there.  Previously,  as  we  have  seen,  Greece  had  es- 
tablished itself  as  a  medium  of  lucrative  international  traffic.  Its  colonies  and  factories  dotted 
the  interior  of  Scythia  up  to  the  Ural,  and  the  Mediterranean  shores  to  the  pillars  of  Hercules 
and  up  the  Rhone.  Regular  roads  led  across  Gaul  in  the  direction  of  Thule.  Intercourse  with 
the  Hindoos  was  reopened  by  the  Greeks.     In  Persia  they  stood  high  at  the  court  of  Cyrus. 

Carthage  had  done  its  equal  share  to  facilitate  commercial  intercourse.  Its  ships  con- 
tinued hauling  umber  from  the  Baltic;  and  its  caravans  communicated  with  the  people  on 
the  Niger  river  and  around  the  Tshad-lake.  The  West- African  coast  had  been  explored  be- 
yond the  Green  Promontory,  It  was  a  Phenician  whom  Necho  had  fitted  out  to  double  Cape 
of  Good  Hope  for  the  first  time. 

In  short,  nation  after  nation  was  drawn  into  relations  of  reciprocal  interests. 
The  Roman  Basin  had  become  a  general  exchange  on  a  large  scale.  The  importance 
of  this  newly  created  solidarity  of  interests  and  of  these  commercial  relations,  which 
in  addition  brought  about  new  political  negotiations,  is  not  to  be  undervalued. 

This  may  be  illustrated  by  the  support  sent  to  the  Rhodians,  when  an  earthquake  had 
not  only  caused  their  colossus  to  tumble  down,  but  had  demolished  their  city.  Polybios  en- 
umerates the  amounts  of  aid-moneys  sent  from  everywhere  to  relieve  the  distress.  Hiero  of 
Syracuse,  Ptolemy  of  Mgypt,  Antigonus  of  Macedonia,  Prusias  of  Bitthynia,  and  even  Mithri- 
dates  contributed  benevolent  gifts  for  the  sufferers—  A  noveu  phenomenon. 

The  most  distateful  feature  of  the  medley  in  the  basin  was  the  conflux  of  the 
ideas  which  the  overwhelmed  nations  entertained  about  their  gods,  and  of  all  the 
cults  pertaining  thereto.    A  veritable  pandemonium  was  the  result. 

The  Phrygian  highlanders  presented  Rome  with  the  Syrian  goddess,  with  her  black  stone. 
The  Serapis  service  of  Alexandria  with  the  processions  of  Isis,  which  earned  so  great  renown 
in  Corinth,  and  were  described  by  Apulejus— became  exceedingly  popular  throughout  the 
realm.  The  devotees  of  Bacchus,who  devoured  the  bleeding  meat  of  kids,  and  who  had  them- 
selves entwined  with  snakes,  celebrated  their  games  and  exhibited  their  performances  in 
many  cities,  in  connection  with  the  "Mysteries  of  the  Hekates,"  the  primitive  deities  of 
Latium.  From  Phrygia  the  Zabasios-service  with  its  nocturnal  debaucheries  was  introduced. 
From  thence  also  came  those  Tauobolies,  in  which  the  initiatory  services  consisted  of  purifi- 
cations with  ox-blood  at  the  midnight  hour  in  the  pit.  They  took  quarters  upon  the  Vatican 
hill. 

Diverse  emperors  took  pains  to  augment  the  collection  or  rather  to  swell  the 
conflux.  We  need  but  to  mention  Nero  and  Heliogabal.  The  different  rituals  were 
all  thrown  into  the  strange  potpourri,  in  which  not  even  blood  was  spared,  in  order 
to  obtain  warm  human  entrails  for  the  haruspex. 

Beside  the  hall  of  the  Quirites  the  temple  of  the  Persian  sun-god  was  erected, 
so  that  Mithras,  the  Siva  of  India,  reigned  from  the  Araxes  and  the  Ganges  to 
Tauris,  being  influential  in  Delphi  and  at  the  Capitol,  as  he  had  been  at  home  and  in 
Dodona.  Since  this  idolatry  had  become  naturalised  in  Rome  it  marched  on  with 
the  legions  to  become  dominant  as  far  as  Ratisbona  and  Mayence.  The  sun-service 
finally  became  a  digest,  indeed,  of  Indian,  Persian,  Phrygian  and  Graeco-Roman 
mythologies,  in  which  the  whole  promiscuous  mixture  of  godheads  thickened  and 
amalgamated  like  the  diverse  ores  in  a  smelter  or  the  metals  in  a  crucible. 

It  looked  as  tho  the  oriental  sun  should  dawn  upon  the  Occident.  Under  different  names 
he  became  the  most  prominent  idol.  To  Rome  he  was  Apollo.  So  much  was  made  of  him, 
that  a  later  writer  in  a  satirical  strain  made  the  sun  utter  the  following  complaint: 

"Some  drown  me  in  the  Nile;  others  darken  and  then  bewail  me;  some  again  pierce  my 
smashed  parts  with  seven  spears,  whilst  others  cook  me  in  a  pot.  Deplore  me  Liber,  mourn 
for  Proserpina,  mourn  about  Osiris  and  bemoan  Attys !  All  right.  Only  be  careful,  that  I 
may  not  suffer  indignities.    Ye  must  not  drag  me  through  every  ditch ! " 


II.  C.  CH.  I.  §  77.  THE  SUN-SET  OF  THE  HOLY  NIGHT.  173 

§  77.    If  we  glance  over  the  whole  situation  as  the  sun  does,  we  find  ascending  xendenc^r  of  religious 
or  elevating  tendencies  nowhere.    But  we  observe  stuntedness,  and  behold  cripplings  ^^  ecticism;  §5 . 
of  a  fldgity  phantasy  everywhere. 

Strange  to  say  that  such  eclecticism  should  have  been  mistaken  for  enlighten- 
ment, when  in  fact  it  is  a  sure  symptom  of  the  mind  becoming  eclipsed.    It  does  not 
impress  us  with  an  idea  of  mere  incompleteness  of  knowledge.    Neither  does  it  ^Sjf  o/^  ^^ 
resemble  the  night  with  its  fertilising  and  recuperative  effects;  not  night  as  the  time  eniightment, 
in  which  strength  is  recruited  for  resuming  work  after  a  short  and  sound  rest.    That  niind's  eclipse, 
sun  which  smiled  on  the  empire,  once  a  sure  symptom  of  original  monotheism,  or 
rather  that  night  which  changed  off  with  him,  represents  the  most  noxious  perver- 
sions of  religion. 

This  is  a  night  in  which  the  inflamed  brain  suffers  insomnia  approximating  The  great  sun -set 
madness  ;  a  night  in  which  manly  energy  is  consumed  by  random  and  wanton  agility,  holy  night, 
or  in  which,  worse  yet,  the  vital  forces  are  debauched. 

This  night  of  eclectic  syncretism  was  like  a  phantom  shadow  thrown  upon  a  chilly  and  sinking  shadows. 
thick  fog.    The  shadows  then  lengthen  according  to  the  degree  in  which  the  real  sun  of  the 
mind,  that  hidden  center  of  the  invisible  heavens,  sinks  towards  or  below  the  horizon  of  con- 
sciousness. 

For,  a  sort  of  a  presentiment  respecting  the  veiled  presence  of  that  central  sun  of  suns 
in  the    background   of  the   heavens  —whose    rays    reflect  even  from    the  wondrous   mir- 
ror of  pristine    traditions,    and    innate    cognitions,    which    mythology    had    attempted  to  Presentiments  of  the 
bring  to  a  focus,  or  to  reduce  to  a  synthesis,  or  to  reconstruct  by  way  of  esoteric  systems  and       ^^"1^33,'^ioo,  102, 105. 
symbolic  rites  —man  is  known  to  have  ever  experienced.     Ever  and  anon  there  arose  one  as  a 
solid  mountain-cone  rises  above  the  plain  of  flattened  or  levelled  ideas.     The  shadow  of  this  the^more  to^offs^et^the^ 
apex  then  covered  the  surroundings  with  so  much  denser  darkness  as  the  sun  sank  deeper  and  darkness. 
as  finally,  only  the  brow  of  the  mountain  reflected  the  last  rays  of  the  glowing  light,  before  it 
suddenly  and  completely  vanished. 

Thus,  under  the  suspense  of  a  magic  dusk,  the  outlines  of  personal  and  natural 
objects,  of  human  and  divine  matters,  of  this  world  and  the  spiritual,  flowed  together  chaos  analogous  to  that 

"'  '  XT  7  o  preceding  the  creative 

like  the  dissolving  views  from  two  magic  lanterns.    All  grades  of  consciousness,  and  arrangements  on  earth. 
all  phantoms  of  fear  had  subsided  into  a  chaos  which,  in  a  certain  sense,  resembled 
that,  which  preceded  the  first  day.    And  in  such  a  mental  and  moral  chaos  develop- 
ment is  no  longer  to  be  sought  for.     Dissolution  takes  the  place  of  evolution;  instead 
of  development  confusion  reigns  and  human  affairs  lie  in  a  hopelessly  perplexing  en-  ^^  human 
tanglement,  which  no  human  reason  nor  natural  force  can  unravel.    Least  of  all  the  reasoning  nor 

natural  force 

emperor  who  was  hailed  as  the  rescuer  just  at  the  moment  when  all  the  guy-ropes  of  will  avail  in  the 
human  existence  had  become  twisted  into  a  tight  knot.     It  did  not  take  long  until  the^probiems^of 
the  people  became  aware  of  their  disappointment  seeing  that  the  emperor  merely  t^^  mental 
played  a  figure,  instead  of  being  "the"  figure  expected.     He  was  not  so  much  as  a 

»  ,,  ,  .,.  ,,  ,.  „  Cognition  of  "the  state" 

mere  sign  of  a  new  dawn;  he  was  only  presiding  over  the  pandemonium.     Sure  incarnate  in  the 
enough,  the  world  lay  at  his  feet,  no  longer  by  reason  of  right,  but  on  grounds  of    **'"^''  *'''™'''§io4. 
might,  since  opposing  fortitude  was  exhausted.     Among  pygmies,  comparatively 
speaking,  he  was  announced  pontifex  maximus,  the  state  incarnate. 

The  people  had  become  disgusted  with  the  multiform  humbuggery  of  proselyting  tj^^  g^^te  held 
idolaters  outcrying  one  another.  In  preference  to  this  rabble,  and  in  lieu  of  their  *o^be  the^^  ^^^^ 
lost  faith,  these  people  in  their  emergency  substituted  the  representative  of  their 
highest  idea,  their  "Supreme  Good",  the  state.  For  man  ever  must  have  some  kind 
of  faith,  being  always  in  need  of  something  tangible  upon  which  to  lay  hold.  No 
part  of  humanity  can  ever  shift  for  more  than  the  length  of  a  life  time  without  some 
"center  of  cohesion." 

Sixteen  pillars  of  granite  with  Corinthian  capitals  of  white  marble  supported  the  vesti-  pantheon. 
bule  of  the  Pantheon.    The  roof  consisted  of  glittering  tiles  of  bronze,  and  rested  on  iron,      (Cyrus^Court  §  57. 
gold-plated  rafters.    The  lofty  and  spacious  hall  under  the  dome  was  beset  with  a  row  of 

sculptured  figures  standing  in  a  circle,  noblest  pieces  of  art.    They  were  to  represent  the  sev-  Th^e'umbel  of 

eral  gods  of  all  subjected  nations,  whilst  the  true  object  of  the  assemblage  was  the  glorifica-  ancient  nature- 

tion  of  the  triumphant  victor,  the  state.    They  had  to  serve  as  foil  to  the  glory  of  Augustus,  bound  culture, 
whose  statue  they  surrounded  as  if  waiting  upon  the  empebor— god.  ^     ' 

§  78.    We  stand  here  before  a  phenomenon  of  supreme  significance  to  history. 
"The  Roman  religion  on  the  whole  assumed  the  shape  of  a  specifically  imperial  cul- 
tus",  Preller  avers.    It  was  nothing  but  policy,  this  official  religion.    God  was  noth-  imperial  religion 
ing  to  the  Roman  if  not  the  embodiment  of  his  highest  idea,  the  state  for  ever.    To  prel»^«- 
him  God  can  be  but  politics  personified.    Preller  concludes  his  mythology  with  the 
emperor-cult. 


174 


ASIATIC  IDEA  OF  STATE— THEOCRACY. 


n  C,  CH.  I.  §  78. 


Old  nobility  not  averM 
to  old  aaperstitions. 

§  17,  67,  73,  137 


Ancestor- 
worship  modi- 
fied into 
deification  of 
dead 


Roman 
«teadfastness 
in  its  religious 
traditions, 


overcome  by 
copying  oriental 
practices. 

§  20,  54,  57,  62,  67, 

81,  97,  122,  123,  146, 

147, 149, 150, 185. 


Pantheism 
courting 
despotism. 
§54,55,56,57,66,68, 
72,  78,  97,  89, 170, 
185. 


Secret  of  the  success  of 
Oriental  dynasties 
utilised  in  the 
emperor's  deification. 

Rome  captivated 
by  the  oriental 
thought, 

could  never  rid  herself 
of  it. 


Augustus'  apotheosis. 


Affidavit  of 

Numerius 


Atticus. 


Mgypt  worships 
Autrustus  as  the 
•REDEEMING" 
GOD. 


The  mania  of  the 
emperor  cult; 

PUWT. 


1104. 


Which  was  formulated 
Into  a  dogma  by 
Firmitlus  Maternus. 


Ancestor-worship  (and  demon-service,  its  caricature)  has  always  outlasted  the 
better  conceptions  of  the  chief  deities.  But  so  energetically  promulgated  and  so  per- 
fectly systematised  as  in  Rome  it  was  not  even  in  China.  Nowhere,  not  even  in 
-®gypt,  was  old  nobility  more  inclined  to  stretch  its  legendary  lineage  on  the  score  of 
respectability,  than  the  Roman  aristocracy  at  this  period.  Hero-worship  always  com- 
mands a  large  retinue;  but  never  had  an  entire  conglomorate  of  nations  so  readily  ac- 
quiesced in  such  a  novel  modification  of  it,  as  that  of  divine  adoration  of  dead  csesars» 
We  have  noticed  already,  how  the  Orient  assisted  in  this  innovation.  When  Rome  put 
its  foot  upon  the  neck  of  the  ennervated  Asiatics,  their  cities  and  states  were  eager  to 
pay  homage  to  the  Roman  sort  of  religiousness  in  order  to  secure  easier  terms.  In 
this  manner  Rome  became  the  patron  deity  of  Smyrna;  it  is  not  so  certain  whether  of 
Pergamon  also.  But  it  was  never  heard  of,  that  a  Roman  would  have  denied  his  re- 
ligion, that  is,  his  loyalty  to  the  state;  or  that  for  reasons  of  diplomacy  he  should,  (as 
Alexander  and  Napoleon  had  learned  in  the  Orient)  accommodate  himself  to  the  re- 
ligion of  those  he  wanted  to  rule.  Hence  Rome  became  ever  more  successful  in  mak- 
ing religions  bow  to  her. 

In  the  end  Rome,  nevertheless,  allowed  Oriental  ideas  to  enter  by  another  way, 
and  in  that  round  about  way  was  conquered  by  them.  For  we  must  not  forget  that 
Roman  Cesarism  was,  after  all,  but  a  copy  of  the  Asiatic  pattern.  In  theory  it  was 
the  same  Pantheism,  ever  favoring  despotism,  which  we  found  in  China,  and  India, 
and  Macedonia.  Since  Rome  had  virtually  taken  possession  of  the  heritage  of  Alex- 
ander's estate,  the  occupants  of  the  Roman  throne  saw  fit  to  utilise  the  secret  of  the 
eastern  monarchies  with  their  dynastic  successions.  The  newly  discovered  secret  of 
taming  barbarians  or  refractory  aliens,  of  firmly  establishing  large  empires  and  con- 
tinuing powerful  enough  to  rule  them  and  to  maintain  authority  of  state,  seemed  to 
depend  on  the  deification  of  royalty.  The  transfer  of  government  to  Byzantium  was  no 
more  than  the  realisation  of  the  long  nourished  desire  to  take  the  place  and  continue 
the  glory  of  the  ancient  dynasties.  Rome  thought  of  taking  advantage  of  the 
Asiatic  custom  by  making  it  subservient  to  its  own  interests.  But  once  captivated 
by  the  oriental  thought,  she  could  never  again  free  herself  from  it. 

After  the  impirium,  i.  e.  a  world  orbit,  had  become  a  fact  in  the  Occident  a  common 
central  idea  was  to  be  procured  by  which  the  mixed  compound  could  be  rendered  cohesive.  It 
was  found  in  the  august  majesty  of  the  most  popular  man.  "Urbs"  and  "Orbs"  cringed  before 
him.  Greek  thought  with  its  fancy  for  hero-worship  employed  its  mode  of  religion  in  apotheo- 
sising  the  emperor.  In  Athens,  Corinth  and  Sparta  altars  were  erected  in  hoiior  of  Augustus 
and  formally  dedicated  to  him.  Rome  did  not  lag  behind.  It  had  made  the  public  games 
ovations  to  Octavian  Augustus  before  his  apotheosis.  Cities  counted  their  new  era  from  the 
date  at  which  on  his  journeys  he  had  passed  through.  Soon  after  his  death  the  senator  Nume- 
rius Atticus  declared  under  oath  that  he  had  seen  the  emperor  ascend  to  heaven.  As  fast  as 
the  report  could  be  spread,  temples  were  built  everywhere.  Priests  were  installed,  and  kids 
and  calves  were  sacrificed,  to  the  new  god  in  heaven.  In  solemn  procession,  soSueton  relates, 
his  statue  was  carried  about  upon  a  vehicle  expressly  built  for  the  occasion,  and 
drawn  by  elephants.  In  due  form  the  new  state-god  was  added  to  the  old  gods,  the  whole 
empire  unhesitatingly  swearing  allegiance  to  him. 

At  Lyons  and  Cologne  we  know  of  this  new  rendition  of  allegiance  to  have  been  observed 
by  the  numerous  princes,  dukes  and  representatives  of  the  Gauls  and  by  some  Germans. 

At  the  confluence  of  the  Rhone  and  Saone  an  altar  was  dedicated  to,  and  the  smoke  of  in- 
cense rose  in  honor  of,  the  statue,  the  attending  priest  being  one  of  the  tribe  of  the  .SJduans, 
Near  this  altar  stood  a  temple  for  this  pet  of  the  nations  as  a  sign  of  their  eagerness  just  then 
to  serve  a  real  god.  The  people  of  Narbo  like  many  others  had  reared  temples  for  his  wor- 
ship when  he  was  still  living ;  the  temple  upon  the  Spanish  Tarraco  was  built  immediately 
after  his  death.  But  Greece,  because  nearer  to  Oriental  usages  and  ideas  had  outdone  all 
others  already  in  order  of  time  as  well  as  in  the  degree  of  fervency.  iEgypt  celebrated  the 
memory  of  Augustus  as  the  "Redeeming"  god. 

The  judges  throughout  the  empire  from  the  Euphrates  to  the  Atlantic  had  no  sooner 
made  people  swear  by  the  name  of  Augustus,  than  that  the  streets  leading  up  to  the  capitol 
became  too  narrow  for  the  herds  of  animals  driven  thither  to  be  sacrificed.  "They  were 
driven  up  there  in  order  to  adore  the  mean  image  of  the  wicked  despot  with  as  much  blood  of 
beasts  as  he  was  used  to  spill  human  blood.  This  is  what  Pliny  thought  of  the  latest  fashion 
in  idolatry,  of  the  effects  of  the  "emperor-god-mania".  Firmitius  Maternus  formulated  this 
into  the  dogma,  that  the  emperors  were  gods  of  that  class  upon  whom  the  stars,  being  of  so 
much  lower  order,  could  exert  no  influence.  The  fate  of  the  emperors,  for  this  reason  can  no 
more  be  read  from  the  stars  than  that  of  the  gods  or  the  demons. 


n.  C.  CH.  I.  §  79.  MAN-GOD  MORE  RATIONAL  THAN  BEAST-GOD.  175 

,        Cyrus  after  his  elevation  to  the  g^ods,  is  pictured  with  four  angelic  wings,  according  to  Persia  imitated. 
the  copy  of  his  monumental  representation  in  Lenormant's  work.     This  shows  that  Rome,  ^  ^^'  ^^^' 

notwithstanding  its  philosophy  and  its  cultural  accomplishments,  adopted  the  Persian  form 
of  idolatry  together  with  the  much  lower  forms  which  break  through  the  surface  of  the  best 
established  culture  from  the  stratum  beneath. 

This  last  repristination  of  mythical  cultus  was,  however  of  very  transient  glory. 

Astonishing  is  this  close  of  ancient  history.    No  sooner  had  the  Occidental  con- 
sciousness deviated  from  its  destination  and  become  imbued  with  the  old  Oriental  occidental  consciousness 
ideas,     than      its  defeat  became  obvious.    Rome  for  once  untrue  to  itself,  had  in  owentaii^m. 

fi  20   ß2    fi7    81    97   12^ 

this  indirect  manner  allowed  itself  to  be  conquered  by  an  idea  most  thread-worn  of     124, 13b,  m,  W,  U9', 
all  ideas.    The  principal  element  of  hero-worship  is  a  compound  of  selfadoration  and  ^^'  ^^^' 

self  conceit.    But  considering  the  circujnstances,  what  better  could  the  Romans  have  Deification  of  man 
done  than  making  this  inadvertent  attempt  at  self  salvation?    Perceiving  the  peril  of  fe7ishe''s"asnirwanrwas 
falling  below  the  line  of  human  dignity,  it  was  certainly  more  rational  to  idolise  the  metem'Sych'osis. 
state  than  to  fondle  fetishes. 

That  state  had  already  absorbed  the  privileges,  which  by  right  of  their  innate-  pj  ^^»^ . ,    , 
ness  ought  tobe  kept  inalienable  by  every  possessor.    Had  not  Plato  invested  the  state  idolised; 
state  with  the  attributes  of  being  man  collective,  the  personification  of  the  ideal  man, 
the  synthesis  of  the  metaphysical  good  of  infinite  value?*  When  therefore  the  state 
had  been  interpreted  as  the  Supreme  Good  it  could  not  be  inconsistent  with  highest 
intellectualism  to  deify  its  representative.    Of  Orientalism,  as  transmitted  through  a  compound  of  seif- 
Platonism  to  the  orient,  the  man=god  was  the  natural  result.  ITA'^dllluot'' 

He  was  the  result,  too,  of  the  unperishable,  altho  corruptible  cognition  of  personal  personified  in  Ve^^'  ^** 
immortality.    As  an  attempt  of  unaided  reason  at  the  realisation  of  this  thought,  the  «"»ngod        ^ ^^^^ 
man-god  signifies  an  advance.    For,  another  and  far  more  precipitous    line  of  ^tin  preferable  to  thp 
human  logic  had  abruptly  run  out,  as  we  shall  see  elsewhere,  in  the  beast=god.  beast-god.  §  se. 

By  the  contrivance  of  state-deification  humanity,  entangled  in  crude  super- 
stitions, had,  in  a  rather  nervous  haste,  tried  to  save  itself  from  still  another  pre- 
dicament of  the  mind.    Relations  growing  more  complicated  had  sharpened  the  To  save 

,,       ,.  ^-  J.        •         i.  »      i_  J.-         ^  ^  \^  humanity  from 

attention.    The  more  extensive  the  range  of  observation  became,  and  the  more  fetishism,  men 
intelligence  was  exercised,  the  more  vivid  grew,  under  the  danger  of  getting  lost  in  seifodomtion 
physical  diversity,  the  presentiment  that  refuge  could  be  found  in  a  metaphysical  postoiai^'ofTnenS. 
oneness  alone.    Either  one  man  had  in  reality  to  become  God,  or  one  personal  God 
had  to  become  man.    Simply  this  alternative  remained  at  the  remarkable  conclusion 
of  ancient  history. 

In  that  part  of  the  world  where  the  idea  of  personality  had  been  rescued,  in  that  „,, ,       .... 

^  ^  >/  '  Wholesome  incitements 

part  of  humanity  which,  upon  that  basis,  had  risen  to  the  highest  degree  of  self-  Jjif\^„"^°"^ 
culture— in  the  west,  man  chose  the  first  of  the  two  postulates.  The  world-orbit  pray-  §  ss;  ei,  74,  m. 

ed  before  the  man-god. 

§  79.    History  incessantly  persists  upon  equation.    It  aspires  to  bring  the  nations  History  gravi- 
into  communication  and  to  guide  them  to  unity.    It  keeps  them  in  balance,  ever  *^*^^^^  carrying^ 
seeking  their  equilibrium  by  means  of  that  polarity  which  retains  them  inside  the  of  unity, 
sphere  of  the  invisible  center  of  attraction.    The  growth  of  the  ancient  monarchies 
evinces  this,  where  a  great  variety  of  ethical  coefiicients  had  to  obey  a  mysterious  in- 
stinct.    This  instinct  made  nations  submit  to  the  rule  of  equity  and  render  even 
the  discipline  of  social  order  attractive.    A  promiscuous  manifold  is  to  be  reduced  to  SlTorder  w*hi?h*is 
a  unit  by  being  cast  into  the  mold  of  a  new  pattern.    Preparatory  to  this  transf orma-  nX^naforganisationr 
tion  the  great  national  bodies  assume  their  definite  shapes  as  units  with  specific 
characteristics,  destined  to  consummate  a  final  organised  union.      This  is  the  ten- 
dency of  history  because  the  promptings  towards  this  goal  are  inherent  in  human 
nature. 

During  the  process  of  national  consolidations  the  irresistible  inclination  to  dom-  History  aiso  tends  to 

o  tr  ^  ...  .  ,        carry  out  the  principle 

inate  asserts  itself  in  behalf  of  history  s  finality,  tho  m  seeming  antagonism  to  the  of  dominion. 
principle  of  freedom.  Ethnical  units  never  stop  to  deliberate  on  harmonising  the 
corollaries  of  domiüion  and  liberty.  Under  the  hostility  in  which  these  factors  ap- 
pear, the  confounded  units  put  themselves  in  array  against  each  other  for  the  ensuing 
conflict.  Some  become  too  proud  to  obey  the  historic  traction  towards  unity;  other 
parts  are  too  obstinate  to  join  the  whole.  Those  unfit  for  freedom  are  then  routed 
by  the  hostile  forces  who  indulge  the  maddening  lust  of  destruction. 


176 


Perverse  nartions 
doomed  to  extinction. 


Wrong  apperceptions  of 
dominion  and  liberty 
miscarry. 

§  8,  10,  11,35,56,62, 
136,  139,  1S2. 


Inversion«  of  true 
contents  of 
consciousness, 

i  42,  47,  55,  66,  58,  59, 
74,  115 


Search  for  the  center  of 
cohesion. 

843,47,61,  74,  75,  114, 
133,  171. 


Unification  the 
leading  idea  of 
Komau  polity. 


Ancient 
monarchies 
failed  in  estab- 
lishing' unity  and 
liberty. 

Hellenism  failed. 


Subjectivism  and 
Cosmopolitanism. 


Intellectual  work 
in  Alexandria. 


DOMINION  AND  LIBERTY  IN  UNISON  NOT  REALISED.         II.  C.  Ch.  I.  §  79. 

These  conflicts  will  not  cease  until  it  is  universally  understood,  that  both  liberty 
and  dominion  are  to  serve  the  same  law  of  unification.  With  those  refractory  parts 
which  persist  in  remaining  detached  from  the  center  of  union,  and  labor  under  false 
apperceptions  as  to  the  true  form  of  either  unity  or  liberty,  all  human  contrivances 
employed  to  obtain  the  unification  miscarry. 

This  again  is  one  of  the  instances  of  confused  physical  analogies  mentioned  in  §  7.    Here 
the  indiscrimination  about  originally  true  phases  of  consciousness  with  respect  to  dominion, 
'  liberty  and  unity  comes  in  and  works  mischief. 

The  restlessness  of  earthly  conditions  and  man's  own  nature  and  disposition 
rival  in  urging  upon  him  the  obligation  to  establish  tranquility.  From  his  anxieties 
he  longs  to  be  freed,  and  against  dangers  he  wishes  to  be  protected.  To  counterpoise 
the  diverging  tendencies  of  the  manifold  towards  dissolution,  personal  life  instinc- 
tively seeks  a  center  of  cohesion,  a  general  bond  of  connection.  All  of  these  desid- 
erata are  necessary  to  enjoy  and  to  improve  earthly  conditions.  From  union  alone 
the  powerless  individual  can  expect  protection  and  freedom.  It  was  upon  these 
principles  that,  as  if  under  silent  agreement,  the  Roman  state  amalgamated  the 
many  heterogenous  parts  constituting  the  empire. 

In  ages  past  and  among  nations  gone  the  adjustment  of  these  principles  had 
been  attempted  again  and  again.  Each  of  the  ancient  monarchies  represents  a  mode  of 
realising  the  unity,  in  which  each  unit  sought  to  possess  the  freedom  and  to  preserve  its 
dignity,  the  unity  which  guarantees  personal  security  and  rational  dominion.  But  in 
forming  such  a  unity  —in  which  selfcontrol  (individually)  that  is  true  dominion» 
and  self-government  (collectively),  that  is  true  form  of  dvH  liberty,  may  be  cul- 
tivated —the  old  monarchies  utterly  failed. 

History  then  took  Aryan  material  to  bring  about  the  unification  of  humanity. 
The  Greek  mode  of  thought  devised  a  new  method  for  the  preservation  of  individu- 
ality. Personality  is  indeed  set  free,  and  the  persons  brought  forth  are  kept  together 
as  a  nicely  organised  community— in  theory.  Something  new  is  preparing  on  the 
score  of  real  advance  towards  dignity,  liberty,  and  unity.  The  Hellenes  failed,  never- 
theless. Their  aversion  to  authority  subverted  personality  into  subjectiveness,  and 
liberty  into  libertinism. 

At  the  end  of  our  period  history  forms  the  Roman  monas,  apparently  surpassing 
all  former  results.  Under  the  rigorous  discipline  of  Rome,  the  separate  groups  of 
nations  are  now  released  from  the  restrictions  of  their  limited  spheres.  Being  drawn 
into  mutual  contact  and  a  solidarity  of  interests,  their  mental  horizons  widen.  They 
meet  to  exchange  their  thoughts  along  with  their  goods,  mutually  benefitting  each 
other.  Here  forces  are  bound,  there  others  are  set  free.  Everything  works  practical 
in  the  uniform  of  the  Roman  straight-jacket.  Yet  Rome  fails,  too.  Liberty  is  a 
make-believe  and  unity  is  vested  in  the  despot  alone:  ere  long  not  even  with  him. 
When  the  time  comes  that  the  state  is  unable  to  protect,  each  of  its  citizens  will  try 
to  protect  himself  as  best  he  can.    Authority  then  is  lost  and  the  state  falls  asunder. 

Nevertheless,  the  truths,  worked  out  in  ways  preparatory  to  their  realisation, 
will  live  henceforth,  until  the  unity,  dignity,  and  liberty  of  humanity  eventually 
take  their  historical  shapes. 

CH.  II.    DISINTEGRATION  OF  STATE-THEOCRACY. 

§  80.  Rome  simply  completed  the  preparation  for  the  new  seia.  It  had  to  serve 
as  the  immense  crucible,  figuratively  speaking,  into  which  the  fragments  of  bursted 
nations  were  thrown  to  be  dissolved.  There  was  in  this  large  Mediterranean  basin 
one  place  above  all  where  intellect  was  at  work,  trying  to  solve  the  problem  for 
which  Roman  power  could  find  no  answer.    That  place  was  Alexandria. 

The  Romans  with  their  disregard  for  ideas  wrought  out  the  cramp-irons  and 
chains  which  kept  the  joints  together  by  force  of  state  and  law;  whilst  the  Greeks 
furnished  the  binding  cement.  What  brittle  material  the  Roman  discipline  had 
thrown  into  the  smelter  of  state-absolutism  was  rendered  pliable  by  the  alloy  of  the 
Greek  language  then  pervading  the  medley  composition.  History  evidently  assigned 
this  function  to  the  Greeks  as  their  portion  in  carrying  out  its  purpose  of  civilising 


n  C.  CH.  II.  §  80.  STATE-THEOCRACIES  TO  BE  DISINTEGRATED.  '         1,77 

humanity.    By  the  acumen  of  the  Greek  mind  for  receiving,  molding  and  distribut- 
ing ideas  and  by  their  position  in  the  world's  emporium  of  literature,  the  Greeks  Rome  the  apparatus  tor 
were  well  fitted  to  perform  their  part.    Rome,  then,  furnished  the  apparatus  for  the  'tÄf compound 
experiment  of  concentrating  the  affairs  of  the  entire  world;  but  Greek  thought  had  Heiienismto  conduct 
to  preside  over  the  experiment  and  to  conduct  the  analysis  and  reduction  of  the  com-  *'*^  «^p«"'»«'»*- 
ponent  radicals  to  the  figure  of  the  synthesis.  £  «^Ä»  *  "'"*''''''=* 

Greek  thought  had  to  find  the  "word"  which  would  set  the  elements  free,  and  ST  '■'°'*''''* 
make  humanity  understand  and  appreciate  that  nucleus  of  affinity,  of  which  it  might  Ro^an  consistency 
avail  itself  as  of  a  hold  in  its  sinking  condition.    All  this  had  been  floating  before  barbar^aL^'Äl'ir 
Greek  idealism  ;  and  the  truth  universally  felt  to  be  contained  in  Greek  philosophy  their  rluglolr  uTagL*** 
gave  it  such  prestige,  that  together  with  Roman  discipline  of  the  body  politic,  this  ^weÄn\"*'™  "®''*"" 
Hellenism  continued  to  engage  the  minds  in  the  discipline  of  self  culture.    Hence  it  '^«ai  of  unit" 
may  be  said  that  the  "mind,"  after  all,  controlled  the  inner  springs  of  historical  n^ationaluy  o*f°^  *^* 
movements  upon  Roman  territory  ;  and  it  would  prove  profitable  to  remember,  that  ^''»lu'shed  peoples. 
institutions  of  learning  ought  to  be  to  their  nations  what  Hellenism  was  to  Rome.  utentÄesTbe  set 

The  most  powerful  states  of  the  East  knew  nothing  of  the  secret  of  reducing  a?»  dissVivLnt'of"'  '^' 
ethnical  particles  to  civic  units.    The  monarchies  conquered  nations  and  crushed  woSd-e*^*'  • 
their  gods  and  their  customs  ;  yet  the  most  cruel  oppressions  never  succeeded  in         .  §  so,  119, 196. 
abolishing  them  so  entirely  but  that  some  always  had  to  be  tolerated.    Scarcely  ever  Mosaic  The'ocrac^y  does 
did  absolutism  prove  able  to  infuse  higher  culture  into  subjected  people,  since  as  a  neUhlrTfgher  culture 
general  thing  these  ethnical  elements  remained  unmitigatingly  stubborn.     The  ^j;;»"^«'^"  «"i^  could 
vanquished,  for  a  while,  would  seek  solace  the  more  fervently  in  their  own  formalism  in  the  necessary 
and  symbolism,  and  the  more  stubbornly  adhered  to  them,  the  more  it  became  mani-  dfs1Stei?ition 
fest  that  the  state  did  not  answer  the  ideal  of  unity.  of  celestial  courts  on 

The  victors,  on  the  other  hand,  held  it  below  their  dignity  to  mitigate  and  to  cLestiai  em  ire  of 
adjust;  and,  hardening  correspondingly,  they  saw  fit  to  annihilate  the  forms  in  Sirmassaand^^^'^®' 
order  to  exterminate  the  nationality.    Thus  neither  obscure  cults  nor  higher  culture  ^^l^^^}*^-  '»i- 

°  Babel:  §  115. 

could  serve  as  a  solvent.   All  that  the  state-theocratic  fusion  of  religions  and  politics  p^nt^eon  7?^'"'^  ^^' 
in  the  Roman  basin  could  achieve  was,  to  bring  the  obstinate  exclusiveness  of  the  «"««t'^i  dynasties 

copied  78.      Pontif  max 

ancient  nations  to  an  end.    And  in  the  end  the  religio-political,  i.  e.  the  theocratic  onentai  ideas 

"  perpetuated: 

state  had  also  to  be  disintegrated,  if  the  formative  elements  of  civilisation  were  to  ^onstanti.  mDiociet. 

I/o.  Justin  127, 

be   rendered   soluble   and  communicable.    The  process  of  this  disintegration  is  ^S*in?^'i2f'"^*°* 
plainly  observable  among  the  Greeks.    Their  gods,  in  undergoing  the  poetical  sub-  KaTfrm  ^ott? i  u2 
limation,  fade  away  and  are  practically  used  up.      They  are  gradually  shown  to  be  erf  oi'^vii  innocent 
nothing  but  artificially  arranged  reflectors  of  prosaic  every-day  life.    Jn  the  light  of  pgen  *ti5o    Ztu  m 
philosophy  these  phantoms  disappeared,  and  under  scientific  analysis  the  mirage  of  "rSTm^^^" 
the  other  world  as  represented,  for  instance,  by  "the  ceremonials  of  Cyrus"  court,  ^'""^  ^^^- 
vanished,  and  the  old  notion  of  state-unity  was  discarded.  personality  gained  but 

overstrained. 

Scarcely  is  the  idea  of  personality  gained,  however,  until  it,  also,  is  overstrained  Authority  disavowed. 
at  the  expense  of  unity.    Instead  of  being  extended  to  the  cognition  of  humanity,  it 
relapses  into  mere  individualism,  where  independence  is  sought  in  subjectivism,  and  g  , .     .  . 
authority  disavowed.  Willful  arbitrariness  rushes  to  anarchism  wherein  "humanism"    "  ^^^  ivism. 
becomes  mad  and  commits  suicide.    This  course  the  problem  took  in  Greece  at  least,  state  buiit  into  the 
where  once  the  state  had  been  built  into  the  framework  of  a  deism  in  the  concrete.       m  arS  i'.'^wÄT, 

r^,  ,   .  ^.      X,   •       X  *  1-        •  J.T-        ^  J.    XI  -.         .  ,  .  58,  71,  84,  86, 93,  96,  125' 

The  hieratic  thirst  for  power,  abusing  the  fear  of  the  gods,  is,  under  circum-     128, 132, 137, 139,  m, 
stances  like  those  of  Greece,  the  first  incitement  for  a  community  to  emancipate  '    ' 

itself  from  priestly  predominance.  Energetic  efforts  are  made  to  cultivate  selfhood  Kuence^^"'^  °* 
and  communism  side  by  side,  whereby  the  advantages  gained  become  subverted  into 
so  much  damage.  Clannish  interests  and  envy  detach  themselves,  now  from  the  pre- 
ponderance of  a  hegemony,  and  then  from  the  tyranny  of  communism.  Man  becomes 
conscious  of  being  a  person  with  rights  equal  to  those  of  other  persons  of  his  nation- 
ality. He  claims  the  right,  for  instance  of  being  his  own  and  of  possessing  property 
of  his  own.  Rights  felt  to  be  inborn  are  defended  against  the  abuse  of  might  and  of 
authority  with  the  simple  truth,  that  man  does  not  exist  for  the  sake  of  the  state,  but 
vice  versa.  The  ulterior  result  and  last  phase  of  the  state's  disintegration  is  sophisti- 
cated legislation  which  begets  radicalism  and  demagoguery. 


Greek  clannishness. 


178 


Futile  experi- 
ments of 
harmouisiiii: 
unity  and 
freedom 
practically  from 
mind's  own 
resources. 

Experiments  of  social 
reconstruction  from 
Plato  to  Alexandrian 
doctrinarians. 


)po 

proposed  by  theorists  as 

a  solace  for  the 
loss  of 
nationality. 


Reaction  against 
dissaltory  tendency  of 
ooamopoUtanism. 


Patile  attmnpts  to  set 
up  centers  of  cohesion 
by  repristinating 
superstitions. 

Dissatisfaction  not  a 
bad  sign  of  the  times. 


Mental  cosmos 
build  upon  the 
ruins  of  the  state. 


Hellenism  aids  in 
spreading  cosmopolitan 


especially  by  way  of 
Alexandria  with  its 


The  first  time  that 
international 
leamedness  and  mental 
progress  is  observible. 


ALEXANDEB*S  ATTEMPT  AT  THE  WORLD-MONARCHY.  11.  CH.  II.  §  80. 

In  this  manner  successively  the  old  world  of  the  gods  symbolising  unity  and  authority 
then  the  old  state  and  the  old  foundations  of  society,  crumble  to  pieces,  since  all  civic  affairs 
become  unsettled  and  soon  upset.  Such  is  the  natural  history  of  a  culture  which  takes  man 
as  a  natural  force,  or  as  an  atom  of  a  state  founded  upon  th'e  basis  of  natural  generalness. 
Greek  thought  and  art  had  liberated  the  person  from  being  conceived  as  a  tool  for  the  pur- 
poses of  an  almighty  state,  Sophocles,  through  Antigone,  reminded  the  state  power  of  this 
fact.  The  mind  follows  the  direction  of  similar  reflections,  until  antiquity  as  such  is  no 
longer  considered  sacred,  until  the  customs  and  the  forms  of  social  life  and  the  traditions  of 
former  times  are  dropped  without  reluctance.  This,  in  itself,  would  be  no  bad  sign ;  but  when 
it  is  found,  that  accompanying  this,  respect  for  old  age  and  for  authority  is  being  changed 
into  profanity,  then  wise  men  become  alarmed  and  advocate  the  employment  of  conservative 
means.  A  Platonic  citizenship  or  an  Aristotelian  cognition  begins  to  counteract  the  error  of 
liberty  without  unity.  Society  is  to  be  reorganised ;  theories  spring  up,  which  demand  reforms 
throughout  the  commonwealth  in  accordance  with  the  advices  volunteered;  thought  applies 
measure  after  measure,  forms  a  body  politic,  advises  leagues,  warns  to  depend  upon  them. 
All  these  contrivances  did  the  Greek  mind  (and  does  public  opinion  in  any  nation,  for  that 
matter)  put  together  from  its  own  resources,  upon  grounds  abstracted  from  experience  and 
observation ;  for  everybody  had  become  aware  of  the  results  derived  from  the  contact  with 
wider  spheres,  and  of  the  changing  conditions  sequent  thereto.  The  contrivances  seemed  to 
be  of  little  avail.  "Constitutions  did  not  march,"  said  Carlyle,  of  a  process  similar  to  that  of 
Greece  here  analysed. 

Nevertheless,  exertions  like  these,  made  by  wise  men,  are  not  in  vain.  A  world  of  knowledge 
ensues ;  an  ideal  cosmos  is  the  product.  To  this  cosmos  one  may  belong  independent  of,  even 
detached  from,  his  particular  nation.  Philosophy  has  found  solace  for  the  loss  of  national  ex- 
istence. Man  becomes  a  cosmopolitan.  Yet  neither  the  individual  nor  society  advances  far 
enough  as  to  succeed  in  the  practical  application  of  the  cardinal  principles  of  human  welfare 
and  true  humanitarianism,  namely :  freedom,  dignity  and  unity.  The  uncertainty  of  the  ex- 
periment seizes  the  experimenter.  The  cravings  for  something  strange,  something  mysteri- 
ous are  accounted  for  by  the  causes  and  signs  of  general  dissatisfaction  and  mistrust.  It  is  to 
be  seen  precisely  of  what  the  intelligent  class  was  in  search,  when,  in  repristinating  the  old 
mysteries  of  Isis  and  Mithras,  it  was  tried  whether  the  mantic  practices  and  the  old  astrology 
of  the  Chaldeans  might  not  be  made  serviceable  as  props  of  society  once  more.  Even  the  un- 
thinking but  ever  aspiring  masses  invent  new  usages  to  assuage  their  discontent,  which  at 
such  a  time  is  the  most  hopeful  sign  of  recovery.  Thus  Hellenistic  learning,  thought  en- 
franchised from  hieratic  theories  upon  mythical  grounds,  calls  forth  thought  everywhere,  and 
demands  a  freedom  never  dreamt  of  before. 

The  mental  cosmos  had  been  erected  upon  the  ruins  of  the  Greek  monarchy,  an  edifice 
reared  by  philosophy,  science,  and  art,  in  which  even  the  state  of  the  Pharaohs  found  comfort- 
able rooms  for  exhibiting  the  results  of  international  relationship.  For  it  was  by  w  ay  of 
Mgypt  that  oriental  thought  passed  into  Platonism  and  over  to  Europe.  Alexander's  visit  to 
the  then  crumbling  diadochate  was  no  part  of  his  plan  of  conquest.  The  object  of  his  expedi- 
tion was  to  experiment  upon  an  instinctive  cosmopolitanism.  For  this  reason  he  not  only 
caused  the  writings  of  Sophocles,  JEschylos  and  Euripides  to  be  sent  after  him  to  India,  but 
also  encumbered  his  train  with  fakes  and  performers  of  all  sorts.  His  generals  and  satraps 
no  less  than  himself  found  pleasure  in  such  diversions  and  in  making  show  of  them  as  cultural 
factors  in  accord  with  his  conception  of  his  mission.  According  to  Plutarch  the  children  of 
Persians,  Susanians,  and  Gedrosians  sang  the  choruses  of  the  Greek  tragedies.  Even  the  far 
off  Indians  were  influenced  by  Greek  mathematics,  astronomy,  and  medicine.  In  exchange 
for  spreading  Greek  culture  researches  were  made  in  the  East  with  respect  to  literature, 
philology,  history  and  grammar— not  only  by  Greek  scholars  and  traders,  but  even  by  manu- 
facturers and  military  hirelings. 

Along  with  the  noisy  traffic  carried  on  with  Alexandria  by  the  barges  of  all  neighboring 
countries  and  by  the  vessels  of  every  sea-port,  the  more  silent  intercource  of  literary  ex- 
change took  place.  The  book-trade  was  in  its  prime  even  in  Rome,  where  book-stores  oc- 
cupied entire  street- fronts.  The  poems  of  Martial,  dictated  simultaneously  to  a  hundred 
copyists,  were  comparatively  cheaper  than  the  products  of  our  electric  presses;  and  the 
branch  houses  at  St.  Remy  and  Lyons  delivered  books  as  cheap  as  the  store  in  Rome.  Cicero 
was  read  in  every  school ;  and  with  the  scholars  and  students,  no  less  than  in  the  boxes  of 
merchandise,  the  products  of  the  mind  traveled  from  city  to  city. 

The  result  of  such  mingling  of  minds  and  nationalities  was  an  international  iearn- 
edness  and  universal  mental  progress  whicli  history  tlien  witnessed  for  the  first  time.  This 
became  evident  in  the  great  libraries  of  Alexandria  and  Pergamon.  In  the  objects  of 
art  both  at  Rhodes  and  Pargamon  the  ideals  recede  and  historic  realism  prevails. 
Personality,  relieved  of  the  constraints  which  an  abstract  construction  of  the  state 
and  objectivised  deities  had  imposed  upon  it,  becomes  conscious  of  its  value.  War  as 
a  means  of  gratifying  individual  ambition  is  silenced.  Events  of  historical  import 
seldom  occur,  so  that  it  seems  as  if  men  could  no  longer  make  history  for  future  gen- 
erations to  reflect  upon  and  to  be  by  them  described  and  admired  .  But  the  unevent- 
ful season  is  conducive  to  progress  of  some  kind,  nevertheless.  Over  the  ruins  of  the 
Mediterranean  states  the  high  dome  of  international  and  cosmopolitan  culture  ex- 
pands, in  which  tolerated  cults,  arts  and  sciences  may  find  lodgement. 


II.  C.  CH.  n.  §  81.     ORIENTAL  THOUGHT  OF  STATE-UNITY  TRANSMITTED  TO  THE  OCCIDENT.  179 

§  81.    Thoughtfully  and  filled  with  doubts  the  Grseco-Roman  world  went  down.  Graeco-Roman 
It  died  of  scepticism  which  alleges  that  all  finite  things  are  mere  illusions,  that  the  thoughtfully  and 
reality  of  the  infinite  is  not  credible,  maligning  all  that  exists  by  questioning  if  not  *^^^  ^^  doubts, 
denying  its  truth.   Such  scepticism  ultimately  is  equivalent  to  a  relapse  into  that  ori- 
ental Pantheism  which  values  nothing  but  a  promiscuous  all-the-sameness,  into 
which  every  transient  form  of  being  subsides.    The  imaginary  apperception  of  a  scepticism  as  derived 
Hellenic  heaven,  filled  with  gods  ad  libitum;  the  notion  of  an  ideal  state,  and  a  hard-  pan'thers^.''*'*' 
earned  world-theory,  are  all  considered  mere  phantoms— under  that  Buddhistic  influ-   *  ^^'  ®^'  ^^'  ^^'  ^*^'  ^*^- 
ence,  of  course,  which  later  on  will  have  to  be  discussed  once  more. 

Such  was  the  mood  of  Graeco-Roman  culture  during  its  short  period  of  decay.  Buddhism  again  to  b« 
The  Greeks  had  brought  this  mood  to  method  and  mannerism.    Philosophy  had  put    '"""''^ » 67, 95,  »9, 201. 
the  confession  of  this  gloom  into  systems. 

Socrates,  according  to  Cicero's  saying,  had  attracted  Philosophy  to  come  down 
from  Heaven.  In  the  shape  of  Platonism  it  became  exposed  to  contagion  with  oriental  Causes  of  deca^ 
thought.  Something  new,  indeed,  is  pointed  out  by  the  postulates  of  both  these  sages. 
Both  have  presentiments  of  revealed  truth,  whilst  from  Plato's  combination  of  Greelc  and 
Oriental  thought  the  Stoic  school  took  its  rise.  Cypros  and  Cilicia,  Rhodes  and  Seleucia 
on  the  Tigris  were  the  centers  of  Asiatic  cultures  and  furnished  the  realm  its  • 

teachers. 

Henceforth  the  wise  men  of  the  Stoa  recommend  freedom  from  passion,  quietism,  piatonism  the 
and  apathy  as  to— the  "one  thing  necessary,"  for  which  the  state  was  taken.  oHentaT ^  "^ 

If  such  dog-mas  were  to  the  taste  of  the  strong-minded,  much  more  did  insipid  people  thought  into  the 
perfectly  agree  with  them.  Far  above  pleasure  and  pain  the  wise  man  soars,  in  fact  above  all  5  20  62  67  78  97 
feeling,  sympathy  and  love  included.  Matrimony  is  gibed  at.  Service  to  the  state  and  public  122^  123, 124,  'iSO^ 
life  are  matters  of  supreme  unconcern.  The  value  of  an  action  depends  entirely  on  its  reason-  146, 147, 149. 150, 
ability,  that  is,  upon  how  one  can  make  its  avoidance  plausible  to  himself.     Hence  to  the  wise  ' 

man  praise  and  blame  are  indi£Ferent.    Prostitution,  incest,  pederasty,  etc.,  are  considered  as  Analysis  of 
unobjectionable  in  themselves.    They  do  not  amount  to  anything,  since  they  cannot  stain  the  Stoicism, 

soul  of  the  wise  man ;  his  selfsuflBciency  renders  them  all  innoxious  to  his  superiority.    Hence  Selfsufflciency. 
that  aristocratic  superciliousness  toward  all  matters  beneath  the  notice  of  stoicism.     Hence  ^P^*^y- 
his  contempt  of  the  vulgar  masses,  of  the  poor,  of  the  state.     The  stoic's  virtue  is  cheap;  be-  cosmopolitan  stoic;  §72. 
cause  as  a  professional  cosmopolitan  he  can  easily  settle  with  the  wide  world ;  to  his  neighbor  "ff«?*,^  contempt  of 

•L  ^1.1  •.       .,,       r«,  .  ,  ,  ,         ,  ,  .    ,      ,  .  r^  earthly  conditions. 

he  owes  nothing  but  good  will.    The  wide  world  he  blesses  with  the  maxim :    '"The  greatest  gtoicism  evanor- 

good  for  the  largest  number",  or:  "Act  so  that  your  maxim  may  be  fit  to  become  universal  ates  personality 

law ! "    For  these  maxims  the  world  is  now  indebted  to  him.  into  natural 

Such  is  the  stoic  as  a  citizen  of  the  world ;  dealing  in  universalities  he  avenges  the  inver-  &eneralness. 

sion  of  personality  into  subjectivism  by  his  generalisation  of  individual  pretentiousness.  It  lands  in 

Upon  such  a  concept  of  humanity,  as  being  a  collection  instead  of  a  connection,  the  Stoa  «'»doo-pantheism. 

prided  itself.    By  the  "Middle-Stoa"  that  deity  was  expounded  which,  by  means  of  the  world's  individual  soni  should 

,  J,  •        Tc  •  1  .  .  .  ,  .,r>  vanish.     Pan^tios. 

ether,  ditruses  itself  into  the  entire  universe.     It  is  conceived  as  an  indefinite  generality  to 
which  the  soul  of  man,  as  its  specialty,  stands  in  such  a  relation,  that  according  to  Pansetios,  appeaied^tol'itls" 
it  has  no  right  to  exist  and  hence  must  vanish.       There  is  evidence  ad  nauseam  to  show,  how  co^^i^^oman  ^'^^  *^* 
cheap  human  life  was  to  the  stoic.     Whenever  a  claim  upon  his  sympathy  was  proffered  by  an  §  n,  15,  49, 54,  55,  58, 68, 
unfortunate  fellow-man,  he  simply  acted  the  cosmopolitan.  ^^* 

The  stoic  has  brought  us  back  to  the  Pantheism  with  which  we  became  acquainted  the^ythrough^ttte 
in  the  Orient.  Through  the  Stoa  it  became  the  common  acquisition  of  the  Occident.  It  ^"'^"^' 
became  THE  mental  power  since  the  learned  men  and  especially  the  state  officials  ^''^^° 
were  addicted  to  it.  Cicero  moderately  but  effectively  extols  that  mode  of  world-consci-  p^^'^- 
ousness.    In  his  "Officiis"  he  acquainted  the  enlightened  with  the  maxims  of  the  Stoa  A'"='<«' 
in  the  way  Pansetios  had  expounded  them.     The  works  of  this  stoic  were  held  in  high  import  of  Alexandria^ 
esteem  by  Augustus;  and  Areios  of  Alexandria  was  so  highly  appreciated  by  this  em- 
peror, that  on  his  account  he  spared  the  conquered  city  its  doom. 

Thus  we  meet  again  with  the  importance  of  Alexandria. 

In  almost  every  respect  it  is  that  place  of  the  empire  where  the  determinate  step  How  to  , 
was  taken  to  solve  the  big  problem  of  equalising  and  harmonising  the  oriental  and  S?ien?ii'wit*h  the 
occidental  forms  of  consciousness.    Here  stands  the  stronghold  of  the  then  modern  occidental  form 

n,-,         , .  .    -         .     ^,  . ,  ,     -         ,  „  of  consciousness. 

Egyptian  wisdom  in  the  midst  of  modern  folly. 

Priests  in  white  tunics,  very  officious  personages ;  relic  shrines  with  images  of  beast-gods ; 
a  dark,  half- naked  populace  crowding  the  place  of  worship— may  outline  the  chief  features  of 
Jigyptian  culture.  Everybody  rushes  up  the  broad  stairs  leading  to  the  spacious  temple-area 
a  hundred  steps  higher  above  the  pavement  of  the  public  square,  where  the  great  cupola, 
borne  by  four  massive  pillars,  forms  the  entrance  into  the  enormous  Serapeion.  Its  interior 
is  very  dark,  and  in  the  central  hall,  darkest  of  all,  between  walls  covered  with  gold  and 


IgO  THE  SEARCH  FOR  THE  SYNTHESIS.  11.  C.  Ch.  III.  §  82. 

Ser»peion.  8  86.  bronze,  the  figure  of  the  god  towers  up.    From  a  hidden  opening  in  the  ceiling  a  ray  of  light 

Ray  of  light  made  falls  upon  its  lips!    Overwhelmed  the  worshipers  fall  prostrate  upon  the  floor.    Do  they 

to  fall  upon  the      really  long  for  a  word  of  divine  utterance?    In  the  immediate  vicinity  Greek  philosophy  has 

lips  oi  the  1  Og-QQ    get  up  its  chairs,  in  close  proximity,  also,  to  the  renowned  lecturers  residing  in  the  populous 

Jewish  quarters.    Among  them,  at  this  time,  one  especially  excels  his  contemporaries.  Deep  in 

thought   he  endeavors  to  harmonise  two  antitheses,  to  solve  the  problem  of  problems  by  one 

all-embracing,  all  explaining  conclusion.    He  is  a  Semite. 

Philo,  It  is  Philo,  one  of  the  Hebrews. 

the  Hebrew.  ^  ^  jj^j.^  ^^  ^^^^^  g^-^p^  however,  in  order  to  resume  what  seemingly  had  been  skipped. 
We  are  in  arrear  with  many  things  yet  to  be  considered,  before  the  problem  can 
be  understood  upon  which  Philo  ponders.  Peculiar  circumstances  present  themselves 
by  which  the  problems  are  rendered  still  more  ponderous,  and  by  which  at  the  same 
time  the  preparation  for  the  historical  solution  was  completed. 

In  the  Aryan  world  progress  has  been  made  up  to  the  cosmopolitan  view  of 

Sum  and  human  affairs,  up  to  a  universal  participation  of  knowledge.     Man  has  arrived  at  a 

substance  of  the    g^^te  of  consciousuess  Where  it  is  conceded  that  there  are  feelings  and  rights  which  all 

cultural  progress  .  »  «        ■,  j        •        •  i^.-      x    ^  ^        « 

of  the  Aryans.       men  have  in  common.    A  sense  of  freedom  and  union  is  cultivated,  and  a  few  other 

^^*'  postulates  of  reason  are  set  forth,  of  which  thus  far  no  man  had  ever  thought.    Yet 

not  even  to  moderate  expectations  can  promise    be  made  of  any  satisfactory  theory 

•  after  which  (least  from  the  fragments  of  an  ancient  world,  now  cooling  off  without 

being  welded  in  the  Roman  caldron)  a  new  world  might  be  constructed  wherein  men 

could  live. 

CH.  III.    SEMITIC  NATIONS. 
BMomption  of  the  §  82.    The  cateua  of  Aryan  cultures— Hindoo,  Persian,  Greek,  and  Roman—  of 

the  wedge  diS in       wlde  compass,  is  distinctly  arranged  in  such  manner,  that  the  two  inner  links 
werten  a^m"  *°  s  60.  Teprescut  the  lesser  contrasts.    At  the  extreme  poles,  in  Italy  and  India,  the  opposite 
modes  of  thinking  as  to  transcendentalism  and  immanency  have  become  conspic- 
uously historical  in  every  respect,  in  all  relations  and  formations  of  private  and 
Necessity  of  public  life.     Equally  universal  is  the  feeling  of  the  necessity  of  an  intermediation 

merging  oriental  between  the  two  opposites,  which  in  irreconcilable  antagonism  disastrously  react 
ransc  ^^'^^^^^^g^  upou  each  Other  so  long  as  the  conciliatory  factor  is  not  found.  Hitherto  history  had 
fmma^ency.^  uot  succeeded  in  adjusting  the  wide  divergency.  The  extremes  could  not  be  alleviated 
§  48, 74.  go  as  to  recognise  their  common  derivation  and  center  or  their  merely  antithetical 
met  burwmtfd  relation,  altho  we  saw  them  meet  as  equals  in  the  Roman  caldron  and  mingle  on  a 
not  mingle  i"  f^e  level  with  the  rest  of  the  saturated  solution. 

The  reason  is  to  be  found,  why  both  modes  of  thought  act  so  antagonistic,  whilst  virtu- 
ally they  are  but  the  two  hemisphere  of  the  same  spheroid.  Transcendentalism  and  imma- 
nency, the  two  essential  products  of  Aryan  mind-culture,  we  observed  floating  in  that  chaotic 
mixture  as  the  most  heterogeneous  radicals;  and  we  alluded  to  the  new  experimenter  who  os- 
tensibly searches  after  the  mediating  ingredient,  the  solvent  factor,  the  binding  principle  of 

The  wedge  driven  ^^'^^^y* 

in  between  the  Now  there  was  a  certain  ethnical  concomitant  destined  to  serve  in  such  an  interniedia- 

Aryans.  §  60.  ting  capacity.    It  consisted  of  those  nations  which  formed  the  wedge  driven  in  between  the 

two  wings  of  the  Aryans.    We  then  already  had  the  Semites  in  view,  when  alluding  to  that 
Semites  predisposed  to     race  of  divisors  and  intermeddlers. 

interaediate.  rpj^^  Aryaus  had  their  best  talents  employed  to  solve  the  problem  of  combining 

the  talents  floating  before  their  worried  minds.  But  we  saw  them  advance  no  further 
than  that  stage  which  human  development,  even  at  its  most  sublime  culmination, 
cannot  surpass. 

Some  people  we  saw  watching  the  lips  of  the  deity  for  an  utterance. 
Ethnographically  the  Semites  form  that  drifting  unit  which  we  call  the  third  cir- 
cle of  nations,  and  which  extends  from  the  Tigris  to  the  Sahara,  from  the  northern 
io<Sted;*Hoii«L.  coast  of  Syria  to  the  southern  coast  of  Arabia.  Under  the  term  of  Semites  we  sub- 
sume (with  Hommel)  the  Babylonians,  Canaanites,  Arabs,  and  Sabeans.  Under  the 
designation  of  Hamito-Semites  we  add  the  Phenicians,  Egyptians,  and  Libyans  of 
northern  Africa. 

This  drift  of  nations  was  vertically  driven  into  the  lateral  line  of  Aryans,  bisect- 
ing it  in  the  middle. 

As  we  found  the  polar  axis  of  the  Aryans  lying  between  Benares  and  Rome,  so  the  basis 
of  the  Semitic  family  rests  upon  the  coasts  of  Malabar  and  Libya.  Nile  and  Euphrates  form 
the  side-borders  of  the  territory,  upon  which  the  fulcrum-points  of  their  mutual  leverages 
are  fixed. 


•nd  to  b«  discriminated. 


Elam-Susania. 

Hamites  in  Mesopatamia. 


11.  C.  CH.  m.  §  83.  BETWEEN  THE  NILE  AND  THE  TIGRIS.  181 

§83.  Beneath  that  drift  lay  a  stratum  of  dark  color  and  of  Uralo- Altaic  descent.  In  substratum  of  a  people 
the  first  place,  therefore,  the  preceding  culture  of  the  Cushites  interlinked  the  con-  *"    '*  "'^  **'°  descent. 
nection  between  Ethiopia,  Arabia,  and  India.    To  them  the  enigmatic  cave-dwellings  cave-dweiier«. 
are  to  be  ascribed  which,  whether  found  in  JtCthiopia,  India,  or  Kurdistan,  bear  the 
mark  of  common  lineage. 

With  reference  to  the  original  homes  of  the  Cushites  we  can  only  compute,  that  they 
were  also  settled  between  the  Libyan  desert  and  the  coast  of  Malabar.     The  supposition  that 
the  Cushites  of  prehistoric  times  belonged  to  the  Turanian  or  Altaic  substratum,  is  now  an     *™ 
almost  established  fact,  since  even  stronger  inferences  can  be  drawn  in  its  support  than  those 
derived  from  the  appellations  Kurdistan  and  Hindookush.  As  early  as  1864  Lenormant  averred  j^j^j^^^^-s 
that  the  Akkado-Sumerian  basis  of  Mesopotamian  fetishism  greatly  differed  from  the  Semitic  fetishism.    LENOEMAirr. 
system  of  religion ;  and  that  the  old  naturalism  of  the  Cushites— from  whom  the  Akkadians 
copied  their  talismans  and  conjurative  formulas,— was  that  of  the  Tatars,  Finns,  and  Turks» 
those  European  nations  kindred  with  Cush.     Poole  in  1889  published  the  portrait  of  an  ^»se  discovered  in 
Elamite — i.  e.  Cushite — king  found  upon  a  vase  in  Susa.    This  is  black  and  distinctly  shows     "**'     ^^^' 
the  Cushitic  features,    Whilst  Assyrian  antiquities  are  always  of  the  Semitic  type,  the  Baby-  Babylonian  antiquitie» 
Ionian  never  deviate  from  the  Cushitic.    Whenever  the  latter  type — tantamount  to  the  iEthio-  bear  marL  oFc'us'h'ite 
plan— appears  upon  Assyrian  monuments,  it  is  expressed  as  unmistakably  as  the  Jewish  type,  iiatire- 
which  is  always  distinguishable  from  the  Arabic. 

There  is  sufficient  proof  extant  to  vindicate  the  proposition,  now  generally 
acknowledged,  that  the  Cushites  came  into  the  country  of  the  two  rivers  from  the 
south.  Around  the  Mesopotamian  region  they  founded  two  empires,  viz:  east  of  the 
Tigris  a  Susanian  kingdom,  that  of  Elam;  west  of  it  the  people  of  Sumer-Akkad  soon 
amalgamated  with  the  inhabitants  of  the  first  Chaldean  empire.  In  Mesopotamia  the 
'Cushites  are  identified  beyond  a  doubt.    We  may  as  well  call  them  Hamites  at  once. 

The  valley  is  about  500  miles  in  length,  running  a  great  way  along  the  Arabian  desert 
I  aifd  up  to  the  highland  of  Aram.  In  the  north  the  Taurus  mountains  shield  the  valley, 
I  whilst  the  Persian  Gulf  makes  it  accessible  from  the  south. 

The  fact  is  well  known  how  in  the  spring  of  1874  George  Smiths  discovered  the  libraries  5'^*'°^d"h^k* 
'of  Sennacherib  under  the  heaps  of  rubbish  at  Kujundshik.     Layard  had  excavated  a  rather  Layard,  Geo!  Smiths. 
small  set  of  tablets;  Smiths  found  8000  of  them,  counting  in  the  fragments.    Dr.  Hilprecht  is 
now  translating  more  than  20,000  tablets  brought  to  Philadelphia,  only  last  year   (1898).     Suf- 
ficient material,  therefore,  is  at  hand  to  evince  the  culture  of  a  date  more  ancient  than  any 

°*^^*''  *  Culture  of  Akkad. 

That  culture  is  named  Akkadian  from  the  biblical  town  of  Akkad.    Its  discovery  most  af -  Discoveries  corroborate 
firmatively  disclosed  the  Cushitic  character  of  the  dark  deep  substratum.  '   '"*  notices. 

The  interpretation  here  accepted  was,  as  late  as  1890,  held  to  be  an  untenable  conjecture, 
altho  the  kings  of  Erech  and  Elam  have  come  forth  from  what  was  called  mythical  darkness, 

as  persons  of  historical  reality  equal  to  that  of  Cyrus.    An  extremely  old  system  of  writing,  gjjamanistic  substratum 
a  reckoning  by  seximals,  and,  according  to  Lenormant  and  Hommel,  a  belief  in  ghosts  similar  underneath  Semitic 
to  Shamanism  has  been  uncovered  as  the  imperishable  substructure  of  Semitic  culture  in  sue-  '^^  ^^^' 
cession  to  the  Cushitic  layer  which  had  drifted  over  the  lowest  substratum.  Lenobmant,  Hommel. 

In  the  regions  of  the  lower  Euphrates  many  a  glazed  tile  of  exquisite  workman- 
ship speaks  of  "Urukh,  king  of  Ur,"  and  of  "Dungi,  king  of  the  Sumers  and  of  Akkad"  Kings  of  ur. 
—and  reveals  a  ghost-cult,  too,  which  goes  far  to  verify  our  conviction  as  to  the 
dark  abyss  into  which  evidently  human  consciousness  once  had  sunk. 

The  Akkadian  cultus  mixes  demons  of  water,  earth,  air,  and  storm  in  most  fright- 
ful manner.    It  is  more  than  probable  that  here  we  stand  before  the  source  of  all  the  conhiry*^ 
formulas  of  the  black  arts  in  general,  which  later  on  were  transplanted  into  Europe. 

There,  already,  are  monstrous  sprites,  which  "came  from  the  bowels  of  the  earth  to  kick  Akkadian  cults  of 
down  the  estuaries  built  to  ward  off  the  ocean,"  according  to  Hommel's  translation.     Other  demons  and  snakes. 
ghosts,  according  to  Maspero   (^gypt  and  Assyria  1891)   are  meant  by   "the  big  worms  sent 
down  by  heaven— the  horrible  ones,  whose  howling  overspreads  the  city,  who  fall  down  with 

the    water  from  heaven."  Sprites  and  spectres  to 

Thus,  what  Lenormant  suggested,  long  before  we  received  the  latest  evidences,  has  been  hommk™*Maspero. 
proved :  that  they  are  Uralo- Altaic  reminiscences  without  doubt  or  mistake.  Hommel  as  yet  re- 
fuses to  acknowledge  traces  of  hymns  to  the  gods  in  the  cultus  of  the  Sumerians.  Further  north,  lenob^i^int. 
however,  such  traces  appear  in  the  "psalms  of  contrition"   written  in  the  Akkadian  dialect. 
In  them  we  hear  heart-rending  bemoanings  of  "deeds  of  iniquity".    Only  that  the  intensity  ^    ^.^^     ern  pa 
of  mortification  is  almost  outbalanced  by  the  terrible  dread  of  witchcraft.    Take  for  instance  contHtion. 
the  formula  of  exorcising  the  earth-ghosts  which  trampled  down  the  walls  of  the  ocean :  §  sf,  84,  92. 

They  are  seven,  seven  of  them. 

Seven  down  in  deepest  waters;  Formula  of  exorcism. 

Luring  on  the  roads  to  kill  us,  E.  Schradeb. 

Heaven's  destroyers  which  they  are. 

They  are  bad.  too  bad  they  are. 

Heaven's  spirits  please  to  conjure. 

O,  ye  spirits  conjure  them  ! 


182 


THE  SOURCE  OF  THE  "BLACK  ARTS.' 


II.  C.  Ch.  in.  §  84. 


Sumero-Akkadian 
rites  brought  to 
Mesopotamia  from 
Mongolian  regions. 


Monotheism  preceding 
Cushitlc  rites. 


Ohaldeo-Babylonian 
and  Assyrian  cultures 
are  Semitic  but 
tinct\ired  with 
Ciubitic  elements. 


Tales  of  the  fall  and 
-the  flood. 


Divine  ancestors  fighting 
the  "dragon." 
Dkurscb. 


Cognition  of 
man^s  dual 
nature  in  Assyro- 
Babylon. 

Smiths. 

Teaming  for  the 
forgiveness  of  sins. 

«57,  83,92. 

Temple  architecture  of 

Babylon; 

palatial  of  Ninive. 


Assyro- 

Baby Ionian  art. 


Aisyro-Babylonians  not 
idolatrous, 


but  shows  culture 
nnder  despotism. 


Letten  fpom  Babylon 
ioTelel  Amama. 


JEgyptian  culture  of 
Mesopotamian  extraction 


"The  hostile  utuk,  the  hostile  ala,  the  hostile  gihim"— so  the  incantations  continue  under  repe- 
titions which  depict  a  most  intense  anguish.  E.  Schrader  (Sammlung  von  Babylon,  und 
Assyr.  Texten,  1889)  coincides  with  our  supposition  that  Sumero-Akkadian  demon-rites  were 
brought  from  the  present  regions  of  Shamanism,  where  since  then  they  have  becoxne  more 
fully  developed. 

§  84.  Preceding  this  demoa-cult,  however,  the  traces  of  the  worship  of  one  God 
are  found,  of  the  sun,  too,  and  of  a  knowledge  of  the  starry  skies.  In  hymns  and 
psalms,  as  stated  above,  the  consciousness  of  human  weakness  and  sinfulness  is  ex- 
pressed so  deep  and  sincere,  that  complaints  more  touching  and  pure  are  found  in  no 
other  nation  save  one. 

It  is  beyond  the  scope  of  the  present  induction  to  show,  how  that  drift  of  Semitic  origin 
alluviated  on  top  of  the  Cushitic  stratum.  Most  likely  the  shifting  of  the  Semitic  layer  was  caused 
by  the  Aryans  pressing  upon  them  from  the  north.  Pushed  to  the  south  the  Semites  there 
fixed  their  abodes  and  founded  their  monarchies.  That  the  Chaldea-Babylonians  took  posses- 
sion of  those  regions  is  unquestioned.  With  that  a  mixture  of  cultures  ensued  which  wrought 
products  of  Semitic  material  with  Cushitic  alloys.  Hommel  just  recently  (Ausland  1892,  §  7.) 
adduced  proofs,  that  Chaldean  astronomy  with  its  lunar  and  planetary  constellations  has 
many  features  in  common  with  Arabian,  i.  e.  Semitic,  but  none  with  Hindoo  or  Chinese 
astronomy. 

Concerning  religion  it  is  simply  to  be  stated  that  the  dualistic  view  of  life  is 
plainly  indicated  among  the  Assyro=Babylonians.  The  renowned  traditionary  tale  of 
the  flood— found  by  Smiths  upon  the  now  partly  restored  clay  tablet,  written  in  very 
ancient  cuneiform  characters— and  also  the  Babylonian  version  of  the  fall  in 
unison  with  many  other  documentary  remnants  similar  in  kind,  know  of  the  fight 
between  the  divine  ancestors  and  the  dragon. 

In  this  dualism  we  again  recognise,  that,  as  Delitzsch  said,  even  this  nation  pos- 
sessed a  vivid  feeling  and  consciousness  of  guilt,  and  made  confession  of  it  in  doleful 
utterances  of  contrition,  since  in  every  trouble  and  vicissitude  they  perceived  the 
well-deserved  punishment  of  the  gods.  Their  psalms  of  repentance  bemoan  the  com- 
missions of  sins  in  a  thrilling  manner,  and  express  a  deep  yearning  after  forgiveness 
of  sins,  expiation  of  guilt,  and  cleansing  from  wickedness.  All  this  is  going  on  under 
the  high  pressure  of  a  most  massive  despotism,  which  the  works  of  art  bring  to  view. 

This  art  is  entirely  ornamental,  pertaining  exclusively  to  architecture.  For  re- 
ligious purposes  art  was  no  further  applied  than  in  the  Babylonian  temples,  whilst 
the  architecture  of  Ninive  remained  largely  palatial.  The  bas-reliefs  were  intended 
to  simply  adorn  stairways,  entrances,  pillars,  etc.,  since  for  shaping  plastic  figures 
of  idols  there  was  no  occasion.  The  winged  lions  and  the  few  statues  are  calculated 
to  break  the  monotony  of  spaces. 

Every  artistic  design  evinces  the  stifP  deportment  of  courtly  mannerism.  Even  in  the 
nude  or  in  drapery,  realism  pure  and  simple  is  avoided.  The  manes  of  horses  are  laid  into 
elaborately  twisted  plaits  as  well  as  the  hair  and  beards  of  human  heads. 

Every  figure  is  represented  as  either  posing  or  cringing  under  pompous  conventional- 
ism; every  arrangement  is  ceremonious  and  commanded;  each  detail  must  impress  the  be- 
holder with  awe  for  the  unapproachable  dignity  of  the  monarch  who  has  taken  the  place  of 
the  patriarch.  All  must  move  by  steps  measured  and  prescribed,  and  dress  in  the  garments 
which  austere  court-etiquette  demands.  As  .älgyptian  art  is  dedicated  to  the  gods,  so  that  of 
Assyro-Babylon  celebrates  the  kings.  And  what  a  set  of  rulers  they  were.  Look  at  Assarhad- 
don  in  festive  attire.  Bound  with  the  rope,  which  he  holds  in  his  hands,  are  a  Syrian  king 
and  a  vanquished  Pharaoh ;  the  rope  goes  through  the  lips  of  the  captives. 

It  is  no  mean  strip  of  land  which  produced  this  art.  From  the  tiles  discovered  at 
Tel  el  Amarna  (which  by  the  way,  reveal  a  correspondence  between  contemporaneous 
kings  of  ^gypt  and  Babylon),  we  glean  the  fact,  that  Babylonian  language  and 
writing  were  in  vogue  at  Joseph's  time  as  the  means  of  communication  "  throughout 
eastern  Asia  down  to  ^gypt." 

§  85.  This  leads  us  to  the  Mizraim,  the  two  ^gypts  of  the  Nile-valley.  The  old 
controversy  as  to  the  origin  of  its  culture  has  been  decided  in  favor  of  the  two-river- 
valley,  i.  e.  of  Mesopotamia. 

"As  far  as  history  discloses  the  past  we  know  of  no  nation  dwelling  by  the  side  of 
a  great  river,  where  the  culture,  the  inner  character  and  external  relations  are  so  en- 
tirely conditioned  by  nature  and  geographical  situation,  as  that  of  -äCgypt.  This 
seems  to  be  the  reason  why  the  ^Egyptians  alone  in  all  history  contracted  such 
pronounced  peculiarities  as  their  arts  show  forth." 


11.  C.  CH.  111.  §  85, 86.  PRIMITIVE  ^EGYPTIAN  MONOTHEISM.  188 

In  the  case  of  ^gypt  this  observation  of  Ritter  contains  much  truth.  Bound  up  in  nature  Nature  determining 
the  consciousness  of  this  nation  is  largely  determined  by  the  torpidity  of  the  waste  surround-      ^^  '*"    *    rittkr. 
ings. 

Our  almost  complete  knowledge  of  ^Egyptian  life  and  mind,  we  owe  to  the  preservation  "^^  climate  we  owe  th« 

..11  ^  !•  ■•  ^i  •     '       ■,  ,  ,  .  ...  ,.       preservation  Of  relics 

of  monumental  and  documentary  relics,  and  this  is  due  no  less  to  the  unique  climatic  condi-   as  much  as  to  temples 
tions,  than  to  their  religion  which  furnished  the  temples  and  tombs  as  archive-chambers.  reHg!ous^*iie  of  the**^* 

Concerning  the  national  character,  however,  Ritter's  assertion  is  to  be  modified;  in  a  -«gyptians. 
race  thus  mixed  it  can  be  true  but  to  a  certain  extent. 

J.  G.  Mueller     has      emphasised  this  in  his  work  on  the  relations  of  the  Semites  to  the  ^  «n'^^tu«!  of  races. 
Hamites  and  Japhetites.    It  was  also  emphasised  by  Bunsen.    Brugsch  Bey,  too,   in  his  "His-  BnNSEN, 

tory  of  Mgypt  under  the  Pharaohs"  accepts  our  axiom  of  Cushite  negro  tribes  having  formed  Bruosch. 

the  substructure  for  the  high  culture  of  this  nation.    Those  very  Cushites  were  "the  ancestors  cushite  negroes  the 
of  the  negro  tribes  of  today".    They  were  the  Nahasu  of  the  hieroglyphs,  dark  brown  and  substratum  of  .Egyptian 
black.        Beside    them  the  yellowish  brown  Anu  appear;  and  later  on  blue-eyed   Libyans  Nahasu-Amu.  Celts 
(most  probably  Celts,  who  had  immigrated  from  Europe)  are,  according  to  Faidherbes,  plainly  §  ^  Faidherbes. 

delineated  in  the  paintings. 

Viewed  irrespective  even  of  the  later  Asiatic  immigrations,  the  principal  features  of  the 
.äigyptian  nationality  are  very  singular.    Their  earlier  legends  contain  many  incidents  con-   immigrants  from 
cerning  their  arrival  from  interior  parts  of  Africa.    As  early  as  1808,  before  these  legends  were  Asiatics ;  inferre'd'^om 
known,  Seezen  intimated  to  Hammer- Purgstall  his  supposition  as  to  such  an  origin.    He  had  ^u^^^ig***  "' 
been  led  to  this  inference  by  observing  that  the  teeth  of  mummies  had  been  trimmed  with  Skezkn. 

files,  which  is  the  custom  of  all  Africans.  Hammer  quotes  Seezen's  letter  (Fundgruben  1,  64.) 
as  worthy  of  being  noticed.  Hence  two  alternate  strata  of  culture  are  obvious.  There  are 
the  traces,  first,  of  the  lowest  and  primitive  Cushitic  substratum.  Then  came  a  large  wave 
of  the  Semitic  inundation  from  the  east  across  the  isthmus  of  Suez,  which  had  been  set  in 
motion  by  the  starting  of  the  Aryans  from  their  homes  in  Central  Asia.  This  Aryan  invasion  conjecture  to  explain 
of  Iran  caused  the  propulsion  of  the  northern  Semites  to  Mesopotamia,  consequently  that  of  the  complex  culture. 
the  southern  Semites  to  the  Nile.  ^;  ^IJ^l^g^ratÄr' 

The  latter  spreading  over  Cushitic  territory  formed  a  layer  over  their  culture.    This   sequent\o**Aryrn  *"'" 
conjecture  alone  explains  the  whole  situation,  explains  the  conundrum  of  the  duplex  char-   invasion  of  Eran. 
acter  of  the  culture  of  ^gypt,  that  "Hieroglyph  of  History."    Gobineau  also,  and  Courtet  Coürtkt."' 

too,  arrived  at  this  conclusion. 

§  86.    Testimony  more  definite  and  complete  than  in  the  case  of  Assyria  is  pro-  Monotheism  of 
cured  from  Mgy^üan  literature  of  an  original  Monotheism,  purer  even  than  that  of  Egyptian 
the  Rig-Veda.    In  the  "Book  of  the  Dead",  now  in  Turin,  the  departed  soul  is  heard  ^^^*^^^^^s- 
to  muse:  "I  take  possession  of  the  two  worlds  and  restore  order  in  the  name  of  Nut 
who  provided  (things)  in  the  beginning,  who  saw  what  is  right  before  it  was  put  in 
shape,  before  even  the  gods  in  divine  council  managed  the  affairs." 

From  numerous  passages  of  similar  tenor  this  one,  quoted  by  V.  Strauss,  is  sufficient  to  "Book  of  the  Dead'' 
convince  us  of  the  fact,  that  the  .Egyptians  prior  to  any  mythological  systematising  of  their  ^^°       \^  v.  Stbaum. 
local  modifications  of  the  divine  attributes,  were  conscious  of  the  unity  of  God.    Brugsch  in 
his  latest  work  on  the  "Mythology  of  the  .^Egyptians"  has  established  the  "Eneate"  of  "Thot", 
the  "Thought",  beyond  further  dispute.    He  states :    "The  religious  movements  clearly  testify 
that  the  bearers  of  the  hieratic  gnosis  were  well  acquainted  with  the  unity  of  one  supreme  The  'eneat''  (Pout) 
Deity.    They  well  understood  to  use  the  abundance  and  well  arranged  variety  of  forms,  re-   °*  ^*^°*'  ^^^  *^bruoscm. 
presenting  the  Deity,  as  more  availing  than  that  originally  pure  doctrine,  which  subsequently 
was  transmitted  to  the  mystic  orders  as  their  secret  and  wisdom." 

"To  priests  initiated  into  the  esoteric  grades  the  doctrine  of  one  eternal  God  was 
expounded". 

Following  on  the  track  of  Champillon's  **Trias",  Maspero  had  arrived  at  the  same  Trias  of 
conclusion.    Paul  Pierrot  judges  the  old  -äJgyytians  as  monotheists  under  guise  of  ^™?sper*^^' 

polytheism.    The  reform  of  the  two  Amenophises  at  about  1500  B.  C.  consisted  in 
simply  giving  the  secret  to  the  people,  in  order  to  curtail  the  power  of  the  priests;  rmenoSs°*  *^^ 
hence  the  "disk  heresy",  the  rebellion,  and  the  exodus.  §  ^*'  *^'  ^^' 

Add  to  these  proofs  of  -äJgyptian  Monotheism  the  gravity  of  their  "judgment  of  judgment  of  the  dead, 
the  dead". 

There  Horos  stands,  designated  by  the  head  of  the  sparrow-hawk.    Toth  with  writing 
utensils  sits  in  the  midst  of  the  parties  concerned.    If  the  soul  in  the  scales  is  found  wanting 
in  quality,  it  is  doomed  to  depart  tc>  the  inferno  of  the  nether  world.    A  deep  moral  earnest- 
ness must  underlie  this  conception  and  these  solemn  obsequies.    And  tho  perpetuated  by  mere  consciousness  of  guilt 
stiff  formalities  and  ostentatious  usages,  yet  that  earnestness,  thus  exhibited  and  manifested,    kept'vlvidf'  ' '  '^^ 
prevented  the  idea  of  personal  responsibility  and  the  consciousness  of  guilt  from  becoming 
obsolete.    That  these  moral  principles  were  retained  so  vividly  as  to  remain  in  full  force 
through  long  periods  of  religious  corruption  is  due  most  probablv  to  nothing  else  but  these 
very  funeral  services  of  which  they  made  so  much.    Not  less  significantly  do  these  obsequies   ^^^°  °*  immortality. 
express  the  indestructible  belief  in  the  immortality  of  the  human  being. 


\84 


EGYPTIAN  SERPENT-CULT— STABILITY  OF  ABT. 


n.  c.  ch.  m.  §  87. 


Resume; 

High  merit  of 
JEgyptian  culture. 

The  crop  raised  from 
wild  seeds  of  the 
substratum. 

Scene  in  the 

Serapeion, 

S88.     §  81. 
Clemens  Alexand. 
Snake-worship. 
Ü  43,  45,  48,  49,  54,  55, 
109, 135. 


Tombs  of  Apis. 

Light  in  tombs : 

exceptional 

phenomenon. 

Sacred  crocodiles. 
JHummified  cats. 


Combination  of 
religions ;  represented  in 

human  figures 
with  heads  of 
beasts. 


.Egyptian  stability: 

Art  never  excels 
the  cult  underly- 
ing it. 

^  54,  55,  56,  80,  128. 


Human  figure 

ill  sculpture, 

set  free  from  the 
pillar 

but  was  still  attached  to 
the  back. 

Death  personified 
everywhere. 


Character  and  inner  life 
better  understood 
than  in  Greek  art. 

§  64  Overbeck. 


stability  of  theocratic 
rule. 


Divine  honors  to  rulers. 


Looking  over  the  signs  of  a  tolerably  well  preserved  original  culture;  and 
taking  into  account  the  plenitude  of  moral  tenets,  which  to  preserve  for  posterity  the 
^Egyptians  were  so  careful,  and  which  were  so  noble  as  to  evoke  even  our  admira- 
tion; considering  also  the  remnants  of  the  unity  of  "Pout"  as  cultivated  by  hieratic 
theology — there  yet  remains  one  circumstance  to  be  reviewed  which  to  science  will 
be  a  standing  puzzle  forever.  Do  we  refer  to  the  meaning  contained  in  the  sphinx, 
in  those  colossal  pylones,  or  those  gigantic  buildings  and  huge  funeral  piles?  No, 
only  witness  the  surprise  of  Clemens  of  Alexandria  and  his  surmise,  when  he 
looked  at  the  priest  who  drew  back  the  heavy,  gold-embroidered  curtains.  A  glance 
was  granted  to  him  into  the  innermost  sanctuary, and  behold— upon  purple  cushions 
a  snake  uncoils!  Such,  then,  is  the  loathsome  and  wretched  secret  of  all  these  mon- 
strous labyrinthian  halls.  "See  here  ^gypt,"  exclaims  Clemens,  "behold  your  gods! " 
Such,  amidst  the  splendor  of  the  Serapeion,  was  the  cause  and  is  the  result  of  the 
stifEening  rule  of  fear. 

There  are  the  caves  containing  the  marvellous  tombs  of  Apis.  In  the  chambers  or  rather 
excavated  crypts  to  the  right  and  left  stand  the  sarcophagi  of  the  sacred  bullocks.  At  one 
time  a  holy  lamp  was  burning  above  each  of  these  niches,  throwing  a  dim  light  upon  the  cells 
and  the  middle  corridor :— an  exceptional  and  inexplicable  phenomenon  in  the  history  of  re- 
ligions. Just  as  incomprehensible  are  the  swarms  of  sacred  crocodiles  once  fed  and  feted  in 
pools  adjoining  the  temples ;  to  say  nothing  about  the  magnificent  funeral  rites  of  mummified 
cats,  the  remains  of  which  are  now  exported  by  shiploads  as  fertilizer. 

The  mystery  of  ^gypt  lies  in  this  sharp  contrast  of  the  two  different  cultures,  at 
the  bottom  of  which  we  see  the  worship  of  brutes  common  to  all  African  negroes. 
Above  that  a  culture  of  a  much  higher  nature  with  noble  maxims  of  an  highly  ethical 
character,  and  with  the  judgment  of  the  dead.  Stages  of  culture  at  such  variance  are 
nevertheless,  generally  blended,  as  we  found  it  in  Mesopotamia  and  as  they  always 
mingle  where  Semites  inundate  an  area  previously  occupied  by  Cushites.  And  when- 
ever the  old,  rude  element  of  the  massive  substratum  was  heaved  up  and  became  vic- 
torious, then  the  beast  predominated;  then  even  the  human  figure  was  made  sacred 
by  putting  the  head  of  a  beast  upon  it.  Beast-worship  is  characteristic  of  the  lower 
element  ever  since  the  time  of  the  sad  calamity. 

§  87.  Egyptian  art  no  more  than  any  other  was  ever  able  to  surpass  the  char- 
acter of  its  underlying  cultus.  The  Egyptian  representations  of  the  human  being 
have  their  significance  solely  in  architecture.  The  stiff  figures  are  fastened  with 
their  backs  to  the  walls  or  the  pillars.  True,  later  on  the  human  figure  is  set  free  ; 
but  altho  taken  off  the  pillar,  the  wall  is  still  attached  to  the  back  of  the  sitting 
statue.  The  human  being  seems  to  exist  chiefly  for  serving  architecture  and  for  the 
sake  of  being  entombed.  Hence  art,  enchanted  by  the  all-dominating  conservatism 
and  the  charm  of  sacred  antiquity,can,throughout  its  existence  for  a  score  of  centuries, 
do  nothing  but  picture  absolute  rest.  It  shows  no  sign  of  an  idea  as  to  organic  funct- 
ions of  members  and  actions  of  the  body,  so  that  the  works  of  Egyptian  art  seem  to 
personify  death  everywhere.  Being  but  caskets  of  petrified  life  these  works  are  unfit 
to  represent  anything  but  stability.  The  sculpture  of  muscles  indicates  languor,  on 
the  one  hand,  and  the  indifference  of  art  to  real  life  ;  whilst  on  the  other  it  shows 
faithful  adherence  to  methodical  and  monotonous  regularity  of  present  and  future 
existence. 

In  one  respect  Egyptian  art,  however,  is  remarkably  in  advance  even  of  the 
Greeks.  The  human  physiognomy  is  conceived  more  in  the  order  of  grandeur,  and 
the  inner  value  expressed  with  admirable  precision  and  ingenuity.  Character  seems 
to  have  been  more  appreciated  than  graceful  appearance,  and  to  have  been  studied 
with  delicate  criterion. 

Overbeck  in  his  observations  on  that  score  declared,  that  more  freedom  in  general  at 
that  stage  of  development  would  have  signified  decay  of  art  and  culture  rather  than  progress. 

The  same  rigid  stability  reigned  in  the  hieratic  form  of  government.  The 
Pharaohs,  according  to  the  myths,  were  considered  as  the  successors  of  a  series  of 
divine  dynasties,  as  the  heirs  of  Horns,  the  child  of  Osiris.  From  time  immemorial 
such  descent  and  exalted  position  had  been  attributed  to  the  kings,  but  still  more 
were  they  extolled  after  the  expulsion  of  the  Hyksos.  Subsequent  to  this  event  the 
king  is  looked  up  to  as  standing  in  direct  communication  with  the  gods.    For  this 


II C.  CH.  m.  §  87.  THE  PHABAOH  OF  THE  EXODUS.  185 

reason  it  was  nothing  very  extraordinary  that  divinity  was  conferred  upon  Alexander 
by  the  priests  of  Amon.  Even  Ptolemy  Epiphanes  schemed  to  accept  the  appella- 
tions "son  of  Ptah,  son  of  the  sun,  giver  of  life  for  evermore  1 " 

Upon  that  basis  the  kings  were  supposed  to  reign  over  the  realm  of  death  even. 

On  one  side  of  the  propylees  of  Medinet  Abu  is  painted  the  life-size  picture  of  Tirhaka  Death  even  under 
(according  to  Roscellini)   with  his  right  arm  raised  as  in  the  act  of  striking   with  his  maze.  Painting  oTfirhaka 
In  his  left  hand  he  holds  the  fetters  of  a  bundle  of  captives  ready  to  be  dispatched  by  him.  '°  Medinet  Abu. 

It  is  on  account  of  these  priest-kingly  dynasties,  that  any  historic  progress  is 
forestalled.  Nevertheless,  there  is  plenty  of  movement  going  on  beneath  the  meas- 
ured surface.  And  such  commotions  are  indicated  once  in  a  while  by  chiseling  out 
the  names  of  unpopular  rulers,  or  by  intermittent  suspension  of  the  customary  inscrip-  Names  of  unpopular 
tive  records.  The  most  flagrant  instances  of  this  kind  are  those  which  bear  upon  the  '"^'  ^^^'"^' 
memories  of  Hatasu,  Thotmes'  sister,  who  reigned  during  his  minority,  and  of 
Amenophis  IV,  now  by  Wilkinson  acknowledged  as  the  Pharaoh  of  the  Exodus.  Attempt  to  a  religious 

reform  by 

He  felt  an  outspoken  aversion  to  the  gods  of  the  Mizriam,  which,  of  course,  was  very  Amenophis  IV 
unconstitutional;  especially  to  the  predominant  Amon,  their  chief.  Following  the  example  :^haraoh of  the 
of  his  father,  or  perhaps  induced  by  his  affectionate  queen,  a  southern  lady  like  his  mother  '  §34^  gg^  91^ 

and  grandmother,  he  prays  to  the  god  of  light,  his  favorite  Aten.    He  goes  further  and  sets  Wilmkson. 

himself  up  as  a  reformer,  making  himself  supreme  pontiff.  Worse  yet,— in  the  eyes  of  the 
priests— he  has  the  audacity  to  build  a  new  capitol  midway  between  both  the  ancient  capitols 
of  the  empire.  For  his  sacred  surname  he  assumes  the  title  "Friend  of  the  Solar  Disk."  Ob- 
viously he  is  an  enemy  of  the  state,  a  rebel  against  the  old  constitution  which  had  been 
strengthened  by  a  certain  Joseph.  Autonomously  Amenophis  IV  rules,  specifically  stubborn 
in  his  relation  to  Moses ;  rules  among  his  granite  palaces  and  the  works  of  a  renaissance  ac- 
cumulating in  his  new  city.  All  at  once  he  disappears  from  his  happy  domestic  board,  and  his 
name  is  hastily  chiseled  out  of  the  monuments.  We  only  know  that  between  him  and  the 
great-grandfather  of  the  great  Ramses  an  interval  of  palace  intrigues  and  riots  gaps  in  the 
monumental  records.  The  period  is  known  as  the  "Disk- Heresy."  This  was  the  doom  of  an 
attempt  to  break  ^gypt  from  its  conservatism.  The  city  mentioned  is  now  a  field  of  ruins 
with  a  sprinkling  of  huts  between,  called  Tel  el  Amarna,  the  same  place  to  which  the  Babylo-  xeU^*Amama  §  84. 
nian  letters  had  been  addressed  by  the  Assyrian  court.  The  tables  covered  with  cuneiform 
characters  are  now  in  the  museum  of  Berlin.  But  Amenophis'  mummy  has  not  as  yet  been 
hit  upon,  neither  his  tomb. 

From  the  literature  pictured  upon  the  walls  a  complete  aspect  of  public  and  pri- 
vate life,  as  was  presented  by  Brugsch,.  may  easily  be  reconstructed.  Under  such  an 
aspect  we  have  to  admit  that  the  rigor  of  Egyptian  principles  did  not  at  all  prevent 
the  enjoyment  of  the  day  in  frolicsome  social  amusement,  not  marred  by  the  anxious 
care  of  tomorrow.    Fun  and  travesty  are  sketched  in  comparative  preponderance. 

Imagine  those  relief  pictures  at  Sakkhara  below  which  Marietta  had  struck  his  tent  amidst  Painting  descriptive 
the  ruins  of  the  desert.     Think  of  the  mausoleum  of  Ti,  a  private  citizen  altho  a  courtier«  Bbuosch, 

Under  the  gleam  of  a  torchlight  the  flat  reliefs  upon  its  inside  walls  are  shown,  from  which  we  Maribtta. 

read  how  an  Egyptian  of  yore  conducted  his  household.  You  see  the  master  with  his  servants 
hunting  the  hyppopotamos ;  you  see  depicted  the  every-day  life  of  a  man  of  leisure.  Here  sheep 
are  driven  out  to  pasture,  there  a  heifer  is  being  butchered.    Upon  one  square  of  the  wall  you 
notice  women  engaged  with  their  wash ;  on  the  opposite  field  mowers  swing  their  scythes 
through  the  ripe  rye  or  wheat.     Here  a  drove  of  fine  cattle  are  led  to  their  watering  place; 
yonder  youths  are  playing  at  tennis  or  throwing  the  disk.    On  one  side  an  overseer  punishes 
a  slave,  on  the  other  a  servant  milks  a  cow,  while  a  third  feeds  the  calf.     Frequently  such 
sketches  are  accompanied  by  the  repartees  or  burlesques  exchanged  by  the  persons,  or  by 
explanations  of  their  ridiculous  attitudes.    Thus,  looking  a  little  deeper  into  the  social  and 
domestic  life  of  ^gypt  we  find  quite  the  contrary  to  a  torpid  and  melancholy  existence.    This 
contrasts  so  strongly  with  what  we  expected  as  to  suggest  thoughts  worthy  to  meditate  upon. 
In  the  same  country,  with  the  same  climate,  where  once  a  tolerably  well  balanced  people  livedi  present  situations  of 
where  some  solid  comfort  reigned  unshaken  by  such  insecurities  and  sudden  disappointments  Egyptians  under 
as  modern  civilization  is  entailed  with,  there  present  ^gypt  under  the  same  geographical  con-  condttTonf^*'^*^^'*'*^ 
ditions  has,  by  the  defaults  of  man,  become  proverbial  for  its  stupor  and  poverty. 

The  monuments  of  the  victorious  exploits  of  the  Pharaohs  reach  northward  to 
Colchis.  The  edges  of  the  Mediterranean  were  dotted  with  the  large  white  sails  of 
the  Egyptian  barges.  But  withal  this  there  was  no  progress,  because  the  empire 
had  the  opinion  of  itself  to  be  complete  in  itself.  Its  humiliation,  then  an  intermedi- 
ation between  the  secluded  selfsufficiency  of  sedate  ^gypt  with  young  upstarts  of 
nations,  and  finally  its  unavoidable  entrance  into  connection  with  them  became 
historical  necessities. 


186 


PHENICIAN  CULTS  AND  CHARACTER. 


n.  c.  ch.  m.  § 


Phenician 
Semites. 


Acting  as  the  dissolvent 
of  Egyptian  life. 

§  67,  78,  90,  128. 


Came  from  Sumer- 
Akkad  to  the  coast; 


and  transmitted  the 
most  pronounced  and 
worst  traits  of  the 
Cushite  elements. 


Melkart-Heracles 


Baal-Camos-Molorh , 

Ashera. 

LuciAN,  MovxRS. 


§  88.  The  solvent  ingredients  mixing  themselves  with  Egyptian  culture  were 
none  other  but  the  very  same  Semitic  elements  which  had  acted  with  the  same  effect 
on  the  banks  of  the  Euphrates.  The  role  of  go-betweens  with  the  -Egyptians  was 
taken,  in  the  first  place,  by  the  subtile  and  crafty  Phenicians. 

After  the  separation  from  their  Semitic  fellow-tribes  in  Sumer  and  Akkad  the 
Phenicians  left  the  two-river-country  for  the  West.  As  it  is  always  the  case  that  the 
bad  likes  the  Bad  and  takes  to  it  much  easier  than  to  the  Good,  so  these  Semites  from 
natural  proneness  to,  and  aöinity  for,  the  meaner  quality,  -appropriated  some  of  the 
worst  Cushitic  features  of  sensuality,  whereby  they  became  well  adapted  to  take  pos- 
session of  the  sea-front,  to  take  the  advantage  of  their  inferiors  in  shrewdness,  and 
became  above  all,  most  perfectly  qualified  to  intermeddle  with  the  affairs  of  the  rich 
and  inert  nation  with  Hamito-Semitic  propensities,  so  much  like  their  own. 

The  Phenicians  bear  a  pronounced  Cushitic  stamp  throughout.  Brugsch  in  his:  "Stone- 
inscriptions  and  Biblical  Word"  (1891)  drew  the  parallel  between  the  Hamito-Semitic  Pheni- 
cians and  the  Cushite  aborigines  of  iEgypt : 

"The  probability  is,  that,  from  dwelling  in  the  Pelusian  plains  and  the  Easian  countries, 
the  Phenicians  became  tinctured  with  some  of  the  higher  elements  of  ^gyytian  culture,  which 
crystalised  in  their  Melkart  and  Adonis  cults.  Their  Baal,  however,  is  specifically  Babylonian." 
Bel  is  the  sun -god,  correlative  to  Baltis  or  Ashera  (also  Ashtaroth  or  Astarte),  the  goddess  of 
the  starry  heavens  and  of  nocturnal,  lunar  fructification.  Her  worship  chiefly  consisted  in  sac- 
rificing virginity  or  womanly  chasteness  to  her  honor,  according  to  rites  of  Babylonian  in- 
vention. 

But  the  special  and  chief  god  of  the  Phenician  nation  is  the  Melkart  of  Tyre,  identical 
tt'&li^^  Meikart-cuit  .^j^j^  Heracles,  whom  we  found  upon  all  the  isles  this  side  and  beyond  Gades.  The  lewd  ser- 
vice, imitating  the  propagative  functions  of  nature,  degenerated  into  absolute  obscenity. 
Side  by  side  with  the  rudest  indulgence  in  lasciviousness  thez*e  are  described  selfmutilations 
of  the  priests  and  the  gangs  of  Kinades  to  such  an  extent  as  to  border  on  suicides  en  masse. 
Holocausts  of  children  which  were  made  burnt-ofPerings  to  Baal-Chammon  or  Moloch,  accom- 
panied the  debaucheries  going  on  in  the  groves  and  tabernacles  of  Ashera.  Phenician  wicked- 
ness beggars  even  the  descriptions  of  Lucian  in  his  "Syrian  goddess",  or  those  of  Movers  of  re- 
cent date. 

In  the  temple  of  Hierapolis,  peopled  by  swarms  of  Galla  eunuchs,  the  exercises  partly 
consisted  of  sacrificing  young  children  which,  according  to  Lucian,  were  sewed  up  in  bags 
and  thrown  down  from  the  terrace- heights  of  the  temple.  This  raging  against  their  own  off- 
spring, the  Phenicians  practiced  wherever  their  own  settlements  grew  up  along  the  coasts. 
Virgins  and  married  women  gloried  in  abandoning  themselves  to  anybody  in  temples  and 
under  the  trees  of  high  places, under  guise  of  religion.  At  Paphos  and  Carthage  the  templar 
rites  were  conducted  the  same  as  those  of  Ascalon  and  Babylon.  In  the  service  of  the  Taurian 
and  Ephesian  Diana,  the  Cybele  of  the  Phrygians,  the  same  filthiness  prevails,  as  in  that  of 
the  Mesopotamian  Astarte.  The  repulsive  modes  of  worship,  polluting  the  Phenician  soil  and 
from  thence  spreading  everywhere,  rendered  under  the  name  of  the  Paphonian  Venus,  were 
not  less  wild  and  orgiastic  than  the  Babylonian  form  of  prostitution.  Phallos  service  was 
always  celebrated  with  selfmutilations  of  a  most  unnatural  sort  in  the  frantic  and  boisterous 
revelry  of  the  Cory  bants.  Toward  the  close  of  the  orgies  this  "cult"  out-raged  itself  in  the 
mad  frenzy  of  dances  in  which  the  last  sparks  of  carnal  lust  and  shame  cannot  but  have  been 
so  completely  exhausted  as  to  become  entirely  extinct.  In  the  face  of  such  facts  we  reiterate 
the  statement  that  this  Semito-Hamitic  tribe  was  better  adapted  than  any  other  race  could 
§71,78,81.  have  been  to  manage  worldly  intercourse. 

The  international  commerce,  created  by  these  kinsmen  of  the  two-river-countries 
and  the  two  ^gypts,  was  also  sustained  and  monopolised  by  them.  This  was  the 
meaning  when  the  Semites  were  described  as  the  wedge  driven  in  between  the  two 
branches  of  the  Aryan  family,  and  were  called  a  dissolvent,  at  the  same  time  serving 
as  the  link  of  connection,  as  the  intermediating  factotum. 

The  Philistines  carried  on  the  traffic  between  Asia  and  Spain,  hauling  tin  even  from 
Wales,  and  bringing  copper  from  Cyprus.  Connoisseurs  of  valuables  from  among  the  Jews 
picked  up  the  precious  stones  and  jewelry  which  Alexander's  soldiers  had  taken  along  from 
the  sack  of  the  Persian  palaces  and  thrown  away  on  their  march  through  the  southern 
deserts.  From  the  coasts  of  Greece  and  the  shores  of  the  Lake  of  Constance  their  peddlars 
went  into  the  interior  countries,  with  small  notions  and  decorative  articles.  After  the  Hel- 
lenes had  cleansed  themselves  from  the  Phenician  curses  on  the  day  of  Salamis,  repelling  their 
influence  together  with  that  of  ^Egyptian  culture,  these  traders  proved  the  obduracy  and  im- 
pertinency  of  their  Semitic  natures  by  hunting  up  new  fields  of  operation  in  the  border 
countries,  as  the  Semites  are  doing  up  to  date  in  every  zone. 

These  Phenicians  were  indefatigable  in  indemnifying  themselves.  Pushing  on,  they 
founded  colonies  among  the  goldminers  on  the  Black  Sea,  or  in  the  Libyan  desert,  always  un- 
derhandedly  overreaching  the  Aryans,  ever  encircling  them  in  the  wide  compass  of  the 
border-lines.  Prom  thence  they  brought  Scythian  metals  as  well  as  ostrich  feathers  and  ivory, 
and  the  leopard  skins  which  the  ^Egyptian  priests  needed  as  part  of  their  ritual  paraphernalia. 


Myllttar-Cypele- 
Diana- 


Obscenity  of  Phenecian 
temple  rites. 


Abominations  spread 
everywhere 


Phenecians  adapted  to 
worldly  intercourse. 


Semitic  element 
intermeddling, 
dissolvent. 

f  67,  78, 128,  200,  213, 


Overreaching  the  Aryans 
§  93,  128. 


Trade  their  specialty 


n.  C.  CH.  in.  §  89.  THE  BETTER  TYPE  OF  SEMITISM.— UB.  187 

The  Philistines  (with  scarcely  any  landed  possessions  except  a  few  strips  thickly  studded  with  Small  possession»  of 

commercial  cities,  pseudo-republics  at  that),  had  manag:ed  to  control  the  traflBc  of  the  entire  ^*°*^' 

known  world  from  the  Sierra  Leone  to  the  Indus  and  the  Thames.  Traffic  monopolised. 

As  Greece  had  repulsed  the  Phenicians  mentally,  so  did  the  Romans  route  them  outpöL'^" ""'* 
with  their  short  sword.    With  the  Roman  grabbling-hook  their  marine  power  was  phenidansfirst  mentally 
destroyed  for  ever.    To  maintain  it  Hannibal  had  made  sacrifice  of  three  thousand  cSsfflnlnyexter- 
Hymensean  victims  to  Mammon  Moloch— in  vain;  the  proverbial  "Punic  faith"  had  S^bythJÄ^"" 
to  suffer  its  consequences.    The  much  lamented  cruelties  of  the  Israelites  against  Retribution  upon 
those  very  people,  the  final  destruction  of  Tyre  by  Alexander,  and  the  extirpation  of  moS  Ä'lmmon. 
Carthage,  deplored  byScipio,  may  seem  harsh  means  of  weeding  out  the  Cushito-  i  «0,66,71,  no, 

Semites.    But  therein  consisted  the  necessary  retribution  of  history  for  their  per- 
sistent propagation  and  dissemination  of  the  most  abominable  vices. 

"Punica  Fides"  ever  since  stands  for  that  Mammon  service  which,  by  means  of  shrewd- 
ness, deceitful  strategy,  and  cunning  extorsiveness,  commits  the  most  cruel  exactions.  Any 
company  of  traders,  any  commercial  republic  like  Carthage  or  Venice,  may,  in  lieu  of  Moloch, 
fall  victim  to  Mammonism;  and  it  is  Mammonism,  more  noxious  even  than  carnal  indulgence, 
which  produces  that  vile,  cringing  crookedness  of  mind,  which  ever  remained  the  heritage 
of  that  people  with  typical  noses  and  without  a  native  country— the  Punian  Semites. 

§  89.    We  stand  at  the  brink  of  another  kind  of  a  downward  grade. 

Recently  there  arose  from  deep  excavations  the  foundation  walls  of  a  temple  Chaldeans, 
once  dedicated  to  the  moon-goddess  in  the  country  of  Sumer,  city  of  Ur  (now  Mugheir) 
in  the  extreme  south  of  Mesopotamia.    It  is  almost  certain  that  these  immense  brick 
mounds  were  built  into  our  substratum  of  history  at  least  sixty  centuries  ago  in 
honor  of  "Sin"  who  now  witnesses  Monotheism  to  have  existed  first  in  Chaldea.  As  late  primeval 
as  560  B.  C,  on  the  fatal  night,  perhaps,  when  Semitism  sustained  its  first  real  dis-  Monotheism, 
aster,  Nabun-aid,  king  of  Babylon,  directed  his  prayer  to  Sin. 

Not  far  from  Ur  old  Larsa  was  located,  the  sanctuary  of  the  sun-god  and  the  most  Keu"^'" 
ancient  seat  of  learning,  according  to  Hommel.    North  of  Ur  and  Larsa  comes  Urukh 
to  light,  the  Erech  of  the  Bible.     There  lately  the  extreme  ends  of  human  knowledge,  Larsa,  sanctuary  of  the 

....,,.,  .J,.  „  Sun-god,  most  ancient 

(as  to  the  order  of  time,)  celebrated  a  reunion:  the  inventors  ot  the  first  symbols  of  ^^^*p°'J*^'''"''« 
speech,  and  the  explorers  of  the  "Babylonian  Exploration  Fund"  (Philadelphia).  AtTrlch  extremes  of 

V    All  this  means  that,  as  Masperohas  it:  "Back  of  all  the  Chushitic  dissolution  and  nZVrrSÄJr'* 
subversions  of  religious  consciousness  we  find  again— One  God  who  is  both  an  unique  ""^^^ 
and  differentiated  Being,  ( "  ein  einziger,  aber  kein  einfacher  Gott"). 

000 

We  have  glanced  over  the  Semitic  nations.  The  Semitic  type  appears  not  to  its  so  far  we  dealt  with 
advantage,  because  not  in  its  purity,  since  it  became  mixed  with  the  Hamito-Cushitic  fmpirTty/"  ''^""^'^ 
residue.  Through  the  Semitic  surcharge  always  shines  the  canny  substratum.  In 
relative  purity  it  was  preserved  in  the  interior  portions  of  Arabia,  where  original 
Semitism  was  protected  against  the  encroachment  of  alien  elements  by  the  surround- 
ing desert.  In  its  full  purity  that  type  appears  in  the  nation  where  it  was  not  only 
preserved,  because  protected  by  special  guidance,— but  also  cultivated  with  scrupulous 
care.  Under  the  emphatic  condition  of  such  cultivation  the  strong  arm  of  a  power- 
ful ally  was  pledged  to  this  nation. 

Have  we  now  a  few  spare  hours  to  devote  to  the  study  of  that  very  peculiar 
nation? 

CH.  IV.    THE  HEBREW  COMMUNITY. 

§  90.    While  engaged  in  analysing  the  composition,  which  had  flown  together  in  The  people  representing 
the  Roman  crucible,  the  Semitic  ingredients  airested  our  attention.     It  was  an  ele-  sowentpore^r.^'''^ 
ment  of  a  particular  consistency,  and  yet  of  a  peculiar  affinity- hundreds  of  thous- 
ands of  Roman  subjects  had  turned  atheists  on  its  account.    The  ubiquitous  Jew 
represents  both  the  attractive  as  well  as  the  solvent  force.    Notwithstanding  the 
smallness  and  political  insignificance  of  the  country,  with  its  single  city  worthy  the  ^^^  .^^^  ^^^  ^^^^^^^  ^^ 
attention  of  the  ruling  powers,  it  was  the  domicile  of  the  grandest  and  most  import-  ^^^"  peculiarities. 
ant  of  all  ancient  nations  —provided  one  can  appreciate  that  of  which  they  are  the 
bearers.     It  actually  seems  as  tho  the  politics  of  all  adjacent  nations  revolved 
about  these  twelve  tribes.    And  now  they  contribute  that  principle  of  which  the 
whole  compound  in  the  basin  was  destitute  as  yet :  the  Hebrew  element,  universally 
despised  and  rejected,  yet  ever  intermeddling  and  decomposing  putrid  masses. 

15 


188 


THE  land;  the  household;  the  book. 


n.  c.  ch.  IV.  §  90. 


Polarity  of  all  Later  than  any  other  movement  in  migratory  times  one  family  without  a  son, 

upon  the  twelve  ^  descendants  of  a  house  in  high  standing  in  Mesopotamia,  went  west,  not  directly 
tribes.    §  158,  221.  through  the  desert,  but  by  the  northern  route.    When  these  new  immigrants  arrived 

La»t  move  m  times  of  °  ° 

in  the  Jordan  district  they  found  the  land  occupied  by  Hamito-Semitic  precursors. 
By  them  they  were  nicknamed  as  those  coming  from  "beyond  the  river,"  where  the 
more  civilised,  the  high-toned  people  studied  the  arts.  Treated  as  strangers  the 
Sri^e^r!°Äre7better  "Hebrews"  led  a  nomadic  life.  Altho  this  country,  where  the  patriarch  set  up  an 
altar  and  struck  his  family  tent,  had  been  portioned  out  by  destiny  to  him  and  his 
posterity  :  they  yet  had  to  wander  from  place  to  place.  Altho  mere  sojourners,  the 
household  should  here  gain  as  much,  at  least,  as  a  foothold  on  earth. 

The  geographical  situation  of  that  country  is  peculiarly  adapted  to  the  position  which 
this  family  is  to  occupy  in  history.  At  even  distance  between  the  metropolitan  cities  of  the 
Semitic  world,  Thebes  and  Babylon,  this  central  region  of  the  ancient  world  forms  the  equi- 
poise between  the  two  opposites  of  northern  and  southern  Semitism  in  their  polar  strain.  It 
is  a  peculiar  parallel  thus  formed  between  the  rivers  of  the  old  cultural  countries  with  the 
small  Jordan  in  the  mean. 

Let  US  draw  in 


earliest  migrations. 


class  of  people  used  to 
live. 


A  foothold  upon  earth 
for  this  household. 


Situation  of  the 
holy  land. 

Equipoise  between 
nortiiern  and  southern 
Semites. 


Second  Circle. 
*  ARYANS.  "^^ 

Ba- 
bylon. 

JERU- 
SALEM. 
MECCA. 


SEMITES. 
Third  Circle. 


The  most  definite  and 
concentric  circle  of 


The  only  nation  not 
completely  crushed  by 
Rome. 


Clannish ; 
pedigree. 


proud  of 


And  it  is  no  less  a  weighty  center  for  the  circle  of  the  Aryans, 
our  minds  a  line  from  Cadiz  to  Cape  Comorin,  then  strike  a  semi-circle  ,  one  point  of 
the  compass  resting  upon  Palestine  the  other  striking  to  the  north  from  end  to  end 
of  the  diameter,  and  the  whole  area  covered  by  the  Aryan  races  is  exactly  bounded, 
with  Palestine  as  the  center.  Fan-shaped  the  Aryans,  the  second  of  our  three  circles 
of  humanity,  branch  out  in  all  directions  from— yes,  let  us  say:    Jerusalem. 

The  Hebrews  form  the  third  circle  proper,  the  most  concentric  of  human  history 
—with  the  most  intensified  religion.  It  had  become  intensified  under  pressure;  first 
in  -^gypt,  then  between  the  two  mill-stones  of  Babylon  and  iEgypt,  now  under  Rome. 
And  it  was  the  solitary  nation  in  the  basin  whose  existence  had  not  been  completely 
crushed. 

In  this  "Holy  land"  the  sojourning  family  becomes  a  nation,  the  best  organised 
body  politic;  severely  exclusive;  a  puzzle  even  to  kindred  nations.     Altho  fond  of 
association,  they  are    a    most  obdurate  and  clannish  folk,  nevertheless;  intensely 
^"""^äSiu^föisness  P^^^^  ^^  ^^^^^  pedlgree,  of  their  organic  law,  and  their  institutions. 

This  nation  possesses,  cultivates,  and  perpetuates  above  anything  else  an  almost 
antiquated,  yet  ever  progressive  and  singular  literature.  For,  the  more  we  compare 
both,  the  nation  and  the  book,  and  these  again  with  the  contemporaneous  nations 
and  books,  the  more  decisive  will  be  the  conclusion,  that  this  nation  is  entirely  inad- 
equate to  its  literature.  Its  books  are  rather  given  to,  than  grown  out  of,  this  nation. 
To  be  sure,  that  literature  bears  the  physiognomy  of  this  nationality,  but  only  as  if 
to  veil  its  deep  pensiveness,  and  as  if  to  protect  itself  from  profanation.  That  litera- 
ture came  out  of  this  nation,  yet  it  is  not  its  spontaneous  product,  being  related  to 
the  nation  like  a  child  to  its  mother,  bearing  her  marks,  but  being  begotten  by  the 
father. 

The  nation  is  impregnated  with  its  literature  in  a  manner,  that  altho  comprising 
its  essentials  and  holding  forth  its  history,  the  nation  yet  assumes  its  character  only 
desultory,  while  in  every  sense  the  book  surpasses  the  national  spirit. 

According  to  that  literature  God  laid  the  foundation  of  that  history  in  a  miraculous 
method.  God  sets  aside  a  patriarch  by  detaching  him  from  his  native  soil.  The  patriarch  trusts 
and,  without  seeing  his  God,  obeys  Him.  Upon  the  principle  of  this  faithful  obedience,  altho 
realised  in  a  very  unsatisfactory  manner,  and  under  a  discipline  which  tends  to  wean  the 
children  of  the  household  f^om  things  seen,  that  is  from  things  diverting  the  mind— a  nation 
is  educated  and  built  up. 

Upon  God's  conditions  it  enters  a  covenant  with  Him,  and  is  henceforth  guided  and  pro- 
tected by  the  almighty  arm  of  its  unseen  and  holy  "Lord".  The  nation,  nevertheless,  disavows 
its  faith  and  is  left  in  the  hands  of  those  on  whose  account  it  broke  the  covenant,  in  order  to 
be  chastised  by  them,  until  it  lies  low  and,  looking  up,  cries  for  mercy  and  owns  its  guilt.  Thus 
a  sacred  and  unparalleled  history  ensues,  a  record  of  confidential  intercourse  and  personal 
union  between  God  and  His  own. 

Notwithstanding  their  sins  Grace  always  takes  the  initiative  in  lifting  up  and  encour- 
aging the  penitent  without  abandoning  the  least  detail  of  the  covenant  stipulations.  The 
institutions  are  thereby  kept  inviolable  and  intact.  They  continue  to  symbolise  the  facts 
bearing  on  both  sides  of  the  case,  and  reassure  the  frightened  law-breakers  of  the  Lord's  for- 
bearance in  still  owning  them.  Thus,  tho  punished,  humiliated,  and  being  made  the  most  im- 
potent of  all  nations,  God  is  with  them  so  ostensibly,  that  the  gentiles  become  apprised  of 
the  fact.    Thus  the  "Children  of  Israel",  through  holy  discipline,  are  preserved   and  molded 


This  nation  and 
its  book. 

Israels  singularities 
Bible  not  product  of 
"national  spirit,"'  which 
it  surpasses  in  every 


Covenants  under 
conditioBS. 


Sin  and  Orace. 


The  historical  task  and 
discipline  of  Israel. 


U.  U.  t;H.  IV.gyi.         MONOTHEISM,  "THE  GIFT."     ABRAHAM.     MOSES.  189 

into  a  vessel  which  is  to  bear  to  the  world  the  secret  of  God's  intentions.  God  speaks  with  them    "Special  Reflation." 
through  "His  word",  by  means  of  the  Shechinah  i.  e.,  the  reflection  of  His  elory,  through  His  **  i^*- 

representative,  "the  Angel  of  His  Countenance." 

§  91.    This  nation  is  a  marvel  to  all  other  nations,  yet  because  of  certain  natural  Refutation  of  "higher 

"  "  criticism     attempting  to 

propensities,  becoming  peculiarly  modified  by  their  juncture  with  matters  purely  reTi'Ton'as'^a^'*r''oductof 
divine,  its  features  are  often  seen  so  distorted  as  to  appear  most  revolting.    For,  in  thenationai  spirit,"  in 

"  '  *^*^  °  '  order  to  undermine  the 

itself  it  is  a  vessel  with  very  much  mean  clay  in  its  make-up.    It  is  in  no  way  better  «"e*?"«  'ii?*L*"*i°"  ,«„ 
than  kindred  nations  northeast  and  southwest,  in  many  things  of  a  much  inferior 
caliber.    But  nevertheless  it  remains  the  nation  to  which  are  entrusted  the  promises;  The  vessel  mean  and 
which  is  to  be  the  warden  of  the  Supreme  Good,  and  to  continue,  even  under  suffer-  Äen  ol the  pröÄ». 
ings,  the  witness  of  God's  intentions  with  man  and  history. 

The  reality  and  attainability  of  the  Supreme  Good,  and  the  truth  of  the  divine 
purposes  are  plainly  discernible  in  the  very  facts  through  which  they  were  mani- 
fested historically;  in  the  methods  of  discipline,  guidance  and  preservation;  in  the 
manner  in  which  the  highest  gift  was  bestowed. 

These  benefits  were  all  of  a  moral  character,  pledged  and  bestowed  in  accordance 
with  conditions  agreed  upon,  needless  of  much  explanation. 

It  does  not  matter  at  all,  what  is  thought  of  the  elements  carried  along  by  this  nation  at  Historic  basis  of 
their  deliverance  from  the  bondage  endured  upon  the  flats  of  the  Nile.  Its  sense  of  dignity  the^Mos*aic*^eeisia,irion 
had  become  stupefied  under  task-masters,  but  it  was  there  that  the  necessary  awakening  of 
its  national  consciousness  took  place,  since  only  there  the  great  contrast  between  their  reli- 
gious traditions  and  those  of  the  gentiles  could  have  become  fully  apparent.  Israel's  convic- 
tions simply  rested  upon  the  authority  of  the  fathers ;  but  this  authority  was  sufficient  to 
prevent  the  intermixture  of  corruptive  elements  from  the  substratum.     Moreover  by  the 

IiAW8    SUBJECTING    EVEN  THE  MOST  SACRED  EXTERNALS  AND  SYMBOLS  TO   REPEATED    PURIFICA- 
TIONS A  DEIFICATION  OF  THE  INSTITUTIONAL.  PART  OF  RELIGION  WAS  FORESTALLED. 

Moses  may  have  been  trained  under  the  tuition  of  Pentaour,  the  renowned  epic  writer 
at  Ramses'  court  (as  Lenormant  thought,  altho  he  would  now  certainly  accept  Wilkinson's  Moses  in  synchronoiogy. 
synchronology  agreeing  with  ours  as  to  the  correctness  of  the  biblical  date,  which  sets  Moses'  *^'"°'"'^'''''  g's^^^^^g^ 
apprenticeship  in  Egyptian  wisdom  170  years  farther  back) ;  or  Moses  may  have  been  adopted 
by  Hatasu,  the  sister  of  Thotmes  III,  under  whom  ^gypt  attained  the  zenith  of  its  power.  The 
fact  is,  that  neither  the  time  nor  the  incidents  of  this  or  that  reign  alter  these  principles  of  the 
unique  covenant  with  the  patriarch  which  ever  stand  in  direct  opposition  and  distinct  con- 
trast to  paganism. 

What  makes  the  work  of  Moses  so  extraordinary  is  as  little  explained  by  the  Egyptian 
externals  in  the  Mosaic  legislation,  as  the  mental  capacities  of  a  scholar  can  be  demonstrated 
from  the  lecture  notes  of  his  teacher.  The  alleged  "predisposition  of  the  Semites  for  Mono- 
theism" is  nothing  else  but  what  ingenuity  is  in  human  nature. 

Every  man  might  be  a  genius  —at  any  rate  as  regards  receptivity.  Israelites  rather 

The  Israelitic  mind  was  nothing  if  not  receptive,  and  what  had  been  bequeathed  receptive  than  inventive 
to  it  was  Monotheism  as— a  gift.    There  was  nothing  meritorious  or  inventive  about  Monotheism 
it.    Moses  merely  received  some  new  views  simultaneously  with  certain  rediscoveries.  given. 

The  original  receptivity  had  been  exercised  by  the  patriarchal  father,  of  the  now 
grown  family,  when  the  personal  God,  the  God  of  his  fathers  had  made  Himself 
known  to  him.  Abraham's  Monotheism  can  be  considered  as  a  new  religion  in  so  far  fpedSnotSm. 
only,  as  it  was  that  personal  communication  by  which  the  father  of  the  people  had 
become  afliliated  with  God,  by  which  a  friendly  relation  was  established  and  kept  up, 
and  which,  by  way  of  family  tradition,  had  been  handed  down  to  posterity  through, 
at  the  least,  five  centuries.    The  rediscovery  of  Moses  occurred  when  God  chose  to  Moses  rediscovery  in  duo 

,  ,  ,  ,  historic  form  and  order. 

enter  the  historic  situation  m  person  for  the  purpose  of  liberating  the  children  adopt- 
ed oil  account  of  their  father,  and  in  fulfillment  of  the  promise  given  to  him.  In  due 
form  and  without  any  inconsistency  at  all  God  intervened  for  the  sake  of  humanity 
whose  cause  was  included  in  the  covenant.  Not  at  variance  with  any  of  the  princi- 
ples of  natural  propaedeutics  God  disclosed  His  further  purposes  to  Moses,  because 
th's  man  like  the  nation  itself  had  undergone  special  preparations  necessary  for 
being  entrusted  with  such  high  commissions.  For  the  time  being  it  was  for  the  pur- 
pose of  making  the  first  step  towards  special  revelation;  and  therein  consisted  the  'r""^'"«"'*'  (family) 
single  secret  of  the  Mosaic  rediscovery  and  the  whole  of  the  Mosaic  innovation:  that 
the  federal  relation  should  henceforth  become  the  national  institution. 

Such  of  our  modern  "authorities"  (copying  Celsus)  as  impute  a  Monotheistic  "instinct" 
to  Israel,  or  others  who  describe  the  process  how  that  instinct  developed  in  Moses  so  far  as  to 
impose  upon  the  world  a  religion  manufactured  from  Egyptian  esoterics— in  short,  who  are 
contriving  to  empty  revelation  of  its  objective  authority,  and  to  explain  away  the  miraculous 
part  of  it;— such  labor  under  a  lack  of  information. 


covenant  rendered  a 
NATIONAL  institution. 


190 


Further  refutation  of  an 
evolved  as  against  the 
revealed  religion. 
Celsus. 

Israel  a  small  group  of 
the  decaying  Semites. 


Israel  standing  and 
advancing  in  spite  of 
disasters  all  around. 


Israel's  hope. 
Sobriety  of  this  nation; 
no  extol liag  of  heroes; 


no  patriotic  untruth- 
fulness in 
historiography. 

NiEBUHB. 


Acquiscence  in  measures 
of  humiliation. 


Tre-Christian  literature 
of  the  Jewish  VFriters  a 
reliable  source. 

NiEBÜHR. 


Central  and  unique 
position  in  social  and 
literary  matters 
occupied  by 

THE  PKOPHETS. 


Censors  of  outgrowths  of 
the  "  national  spirit." 


Revealed  cosmogony  as 
against  mythical 
perversions.      Steikthal. 


No  talent  for  plastic  arts 


Qualified  only  to  receive 
and  to  keep — 

the  Secret. 


Without  an  epic  and 
conscious  of  its  poor 
deserts,  Israel  expects 
its  hero  to  come. 


THE  HOPE  OF  ISRAEL.— THE  PROPHECY.  11.  C  CH.  IV.  §  92. 

They  wish  to  prove  that  this  nation  had  arrived  at  worshiping  the  One,  invisible  God  in 
the  most  natural  and  simple  way  possible,  not  being  aware  that  such  gratuitous  proof  is 
doomed  to  remain  not  only  futile,  but  to  recoil  even  on  evolutionism.  They  overlook  the  fact 
that  the  very  Semitic  group,  of  which  Israel  was  but  a  small  part,  had  degenerated  into  com- 
plete religio-cultural  corruption  long  before  this  tribe  arose  —recovered,  we  might  say  from 
its  infection  with  heathenism— by  virtue  of  the  discovery.  They  did  not  pause  to  inquire  how 
it  was  possible,  that  such  a  stupefied  nation  could,  amidst  universal  waywardness  and  decay, 
not  only  stand  firm  enough  to  hold  its  own  by  strict  separation,  but  also,  what  is  still  more 
singular  and  significant,  how  in  spite  of  terrible  internal  and  international  disasters  it  could 
gain  that  inner  sublimity  which  alone  enabled  it  to  formulate  its  grand  cognitions.  What 
natural  cause  could  be  adduced  for  Israel's  ability  to  rise  repeatedly  above  ruination  and  to 
look  triumphantly  into  the  future?  What  other  nation  looked  forward  with  such  an  assured 
hope  to  the  future?  All  the  contemporaries  could  but  look  back  upon  a  glorious  past  that 
offered  nothing  but  discouragement. 

Israel's  hope,  a  function  of  jthe  spirit  of  a  quality  unknown  to  all  the  rest  of  man- 
kind, was  perfectly  clear  and  sure  and  calm.  Like  a  sober  person  among  a  stagger- 
ing crowd  of  drunkards  this  nation  stands  by  its  religion,  altho  they  learned  to  fully 
appreciate  it  only  after  many  signs  of  divine  displeasure.  Such  steadfastness  would 
be  desecrated  by  the  mere  comparison  with  the  orgies  of  all  the  surrounding  idolaters. 

Furthermore,  the  historiography  of  all  surrounding,  yea,  of  all  ancient  nations,  is 
more  or  less  boastful.  In  every  other  instance  the  national  chronicles  exaggerate 
the  deeds  and  admire  the  sins  of  their  heroes,  in  order  to  magnify  their  own  grandeur 
—or  selfconceit.  "The  Old  Testament  alone— Niebuhr  remarked— is  an  exception 
to  patriotic  untruthfulness.  Never  is  the  sin  of  any  of  its  heroes  covered  up; 
never  hidden  under  silence  is  a  humiliating  chastisement  of  that  nation  whose  his- 
tory 'the  book  of  the  nations'  puts  upon  record.  Such  honesty  must  be  acknowledged 
as  the  highest  virtue  of  the  historiographer,  even  by  one  who  does  not  believe  in 
divine  inspiration." 

Niebuhr  was  competent  to  judge.  While  investigating  the  sources  of  Assyro-Babylonian 
history,  he  is  justified  in  calling  it  "old-fashioned  and  insipid  mannerism,  when  some  scholars 
betray  the  weakness  of  their  cause  by  their  hesitancy  to  adopt  and  to  employ  the  pre-christian 
literature  of  the  Jews  as  reliable  sources." 

The  central  position  of  their  historiography  is  occupied  by  the  prophets.  They 
practice  a  relentless  self-criticism  never  biased  by  any  patriotic  partiality,  tho  they 
proved  to  be  the  staunchest  of  patriots. 

The  series  of  prophets  is  a  succession  of  miracles  through  many  centuries.  None 
of  them  can  be  understood  or  interpreted  merely  from  historical  coincidents  or  from 
the  spirit  of  their  times.  There  is  no  accommodation  to  the  spirit  of  the  times  with 
them.  "Those  men  did  criticise  with  an  unequalled  power  and  in  utter  disregard  to 
popularity.  Lightning  splitting  an  oak  is  as  nothing  compared  with  the  short  par- 
allel sentences  which  dash  to  pieces  forever  one  system  of  imaginary  cosmogony 
after  another.  Where  are  these  systems  now  in  the  face  of  the  word  spoken  to  Isaiah: 
'  I  form  the  light  and  create  darkness.  I  make  peace  and  create  evil.  I  the  Lord  do 
all  these  things'*.  (Steinthal). 

§  92.  Such  an  aspect  of  the  Jewish  nation  presents  itself,  as  it  stands  there,  a 
stranger  in  its  solitariness,  not  understood  and  stared  at  by  the  nations.  It  stands 
reserved,  looking  careworn  and  harassed  like  a  man  who  is  anxiously  concerned  to 
keep  a  great  and  portentous  secret,  altho  that  care  consumes  his  own  vitality. 

Hence  this  nation  does  not  possess  the  buoyancy  of  ancient  art,  not  the  bubbling 
productiveness  of  its  hilarious  nonchalance.  Israel  is  intensel)^  religious  and  merely 
receptive.  Its  whole  superiority  simply  consists  in  the  qualification  for  receiving  and 
—keeping  the  secret,  until  it  is  in  order  to  circulate  it.  For,  the  thoughts  and  prom- 
ises confided  to  this  nation  do  not  concern  it  alone;  notwithstanding  their  reserved- 
ness  they  have  great  bearing  upon  the  welfare  of  the  whole  world.  Without  a  na- 
tional literature  (in  the  usual  sense  of  the  phrase)  of  spontaneous  growth  from  seeds 
below,  that  nation  is  singled  out  to  receive  the  "Word"  from  above,  and  to  preserve 
this  sacred,  written  covenant  as  its  most  precious  inheritance  in  perfect  integrity. 

The  children  of  Israel  alone  remained  without  an  epic,  without  that  class  of  poetry  in 
which  during  the  process  of  becoming  conscious  of  themselves,  the  nations  used  to  objectivise 
their  innermost  mind  by  contemplating  its  heroes  and  its  caricatures.     It  is  all  the  historic 


n.  C.  CH.  IV.  §  92.  SIN  AND  GUILT.     PARDON  UNDEB  CONDITIONS.  191 

memory  such  nations  possess.    On  that  score  Israel  could  afPord  to  be  without  a  national  ejiic,  Israel  in  contrast  to 
since  from  its  books  the  nation  was  well  aware  of  the  fact  that  every  thing  which  happened  other  nations  concerning 

,  .        ,  1.    ,      T         ^     TT  T  1     1  ,      T  •  *^*  P*8*  **"*  ^^^  future, 

was  preserved  in  the  memory  of  the  Lord.  Hence  Israel  alone  had  a  real  history,  a  true  mirror 

for  selfrecognition  without  flattery. 

And  yet  this  nation  had  been  reared  in  the  expectation  of  nothing  less  than  the 
realisation  of  a  truth  stranger  than  fiction,  of  the  divine  condescension  whereof  others 
had  dreamt.     It  had  been  made  desirous  and  was  in  good  earnest  to  meet  its  national 
hero  from  above.    Upon  the  coming  One  all  hopes  were  concentrated,  whilst  the  na- 
tions of  profane  history  without  exception  look  backward  upon  a  golden  age  in  the 
past,  upon  an  sera  of  peace  and  rest,  of  paradise  and  intercourse  with  the  gods,  an  sera 
of  demi-gods,  of  liberating  giants  and  of  helpful  elves. —  This  nation  alone  looks  up-  Not  intoxicated  by 
ward  for  its  liberator,  looks  ahead  for  its  rest  and  its  reunion  with  the  fathers  in  progress,  because 
times  to  come.    Also  in  this  respect  Israel  stands  sober  among  the  intoxicated,  as  it  hfstoricai** 
is  well  put  by  Lotze:    "The  Hebrews  were  not  seized  by  the  giddiness  of  an  eternal  lot^^.     Prospects, 
rotation  of  nature,  because  they  knew  themselves  to  be  involved  in  the  prospects  of  a 
progressive  history."    In  another  and  special  sense  this  nation  deserves  the  attribute 
of  sobriety.    It  considers  as  "sin"  what  others  lightly  took  for  pain,  passion,  ills  of 
life,  or  common  weakness.    From  the  time  God  called  Abraham  to  sever  earthly  con- 
nections and  to  leave  his  native  home,    He  always  loosened  the  chosen  nation  from 
the  soil,  whenever  its  natural  proneness  toward  ramifying  into  the  soil  and  even  the 
sub-soil  would  thrive  in  the  growth  of  wild  vines  or  water-shoots. 

For  this  reason  Israel  was  released  from  the  .älgyptian  bondage  just  in  time  to  save  the 
last  spark  of  selfrespect,  when  it  began  to  become  so  stupid  as  to  enure  itself  to  the  basest  in- 
dignities. God  took  the  people  aside  to  teach  them  reliance  upon  Him  and  resistance  to 
enemies.  He  educated  the  children  of  Israel  by  historical  experience,  by  symbolic  acts,  but 
especially  by  the  gift  of  His  commandments.  These  "Words"  were  to  urge  on  each  of  them, 
in  his  way  of  duty  as  a  member  of  the  community,  and  at  the  same  time  as  being  amenable, 
directly  to  God,  his  sole  ruler.  These  are  the  cardinal  principles  upon  which  the  national  ex- 
istence of  Israel  is  founded.  But  body  and  soul  fail  the  Israelite,  when,  in  sequence  to  these 
simple  conditions,  he  lies  prostrate  under  the  mortifying  consciousness  of  having  sinned  in 
the  very  face  of  God— and  when,  nevertheless,  his  spirit  thirsts  after  God,  after  the  living  God. 
In  this  outcry  the  feeling  of  the  rupture  is  expressed  and  confessed,  by  which  the  creature  is 
severed  from  its  Creator. 

To  other  nations  the  abyss  caused  by  this  rupture  seems  to  be  irrelevant;  a  mere 
metaphor  for  denoting  a  metaphysical  diflßculty,  in  which  man  finds  himself  at  sea 
and,  perhaps,  not  altogether  without  fault— in  case  he  cannot  blame  metaphysics  for  co"mt°  '**  f 
it.    But  Israel  does  not  deceive  itself.    Instead  of  palliating  guilt  or  shifting  it  upon  sin  and  its 
other  persons  or  circumstances,  Israel  daily  confesses  its  iniquities  as  a  personal,  a  *'o^s^^^®^<'®s- 
very  serious,  and  most  pressing  matter.    No  nation  had  come  to  such  deep  recogni-  Methods  of  Israel's 

•«•  o  preparatory  education. 

tion  of  the  chasm  as  the  religio'cthical  source  of  all  trouble. 

Hence,  here  alone  the  contrite  mind  is  heard  to  remorsefully  complain:  "Against  Thee,  nur^nose^tn^the 
Thee  only  have  I  sinned  and  done  this  evil  in  Thy  sight ! "    Not  one  of  the  Akkadian  psalms  Decalogue: 
reaches  so  low,  nor  touches  that  height  of  conscientiousness.     Notwithstanding  the  many  at-  confusion  of  sfn^' 
tempts  in  Israel  to  smooth  it  off,  the  sin  is  under  all  circumstances  branded  as  disloyalty  and  confidence  in  restitution, 
faithlessness  against  the  faithful,  the  holy,  and  known  God  of  the  Covenant.     But  the  trust- 
worthiness of  the  divine  promise  of  forgiveness  with  its  just  conditions  is  also  known,   and  Hofrness*'af  compared  **' 
thanks  to  it  guilt  need  not  drive  any  sinner  to  despair ;  for,  al-tho  sin  is  never  concealabIjE,  with  the  levi^  of  other 

nations. 
GULLT  IS  NEVEB  IBBECONCILABLE. 

In  keeping  with  the  deep  and  never-to-be  lulled  consciousness  of  guilt  and  its  Sn not UifledÄ 
actual  confession,  the  all-pervading  idea  of  sacrifice  is  here  preserved  in  its  purity,  ^ "'  ^^' 

and  prominently  set  forth,  and  cleared  up.    To  this  end  the  significance  of  sacrifice  Trust  in  oods  promises. 
is  specified  in  the  ordinances  of  sin-  and  peace-offerings  with  their  subdivisions.    In  5*^fcrifice*  *^*  ''^** 
the  same  light  under  which  the  fact  of  creation  is  revealed  in  this  literature,  so  the  „    ,  .     ^   ,    , 

...  Revelation  of  salvatioa 

true  thought  of  salvation  also  becomes  distinct  by  degrees  conditioned  simply  by  the      ,  ^y  degrees- 

^  .         „        .  "         <=>  r   ^        ^  analogous  to  that  in 

presence  of  the  honest  desire  for  it.  creation. 

Not  merely  the  presence  of  God  among  the  people,  but  His  gracious,  sin-forgiving  pres-  ood  condescends  to 
ence   among    His     own    and   pardon  on    His  own   terms  is  being  vouchsafed.      With  the  *®  present  with  His 
mysterious  dwelling  of  God  among  His  people,  with  the  pledges  of  conciliatory  reunion,  final 
incarnation  and  ultimate  full  communion,  this  nation  is  highly  privileged,  indeed,  but  it  is,  Israel  pardoned  and 
at  the  same  time,  put  under  correspondingly  great  responsibilities.    It  is  both,  pabdoned  and  I'n  its^sepäratism. 
BUBDENED :  being  conditioned  day  by  day,  and  bound  over  to  a  permanent  probation,  altho 
with  reference  to  the  world,  this  nation  is  to  be  the  most  free  and  independent. 


The  nation  to  serve 
otHers  in  the  character 
of  a  prophet. 


Prophets  proclaim 
conciliation  of  real 
existence  with  ideal 
destiny. 

§  39,  63,  64,  123,  139,  147, 
152,  158. 


Sovereignty  of 
the  prophets 

in  their  independence 

from  the  "world,'" 
in  their 

negative  work 

as  to  false  messianic 
expectations : 


since  the  Messiah  wi 
subtly  conceived  as 

a  means 

to  satisfy  worldly 
aspirations. 


Jewish  selfcomplacency. 


Parallel  to  modern 
errors  of  chiliastic 
dreams. 

2.  Positive  task  of 
prophecy : 


to  present  the  tnie 
figure  of  the 
"  Messiah  "  the 
"Servant"'  of  God. 

§  13,  36,  105,  117,  120, 
223. 


Nat\iral  depravity  and 
inspiration. 


Resume : 

of  the  results  of  Semitic 

culture. 


Assyrian  conti  ibution  to 
universal  culture. 


Division  of  time. 


Monotony  of  deserts 
does  not  create 
Monotheism,  as  alleged 
by  Kbham.  S  1. 


but  fatalistic  monomai 


TWOFOLD  TASK  OF  THE  PROPHETS.  II  C.  CH.  IV.  §  93. 

To  be  and  remain  independent  from  the  world  was  of  most  essential  necessity  to 
Israel,  conditioning  the  possibility  to  fulfill  its  vocation  and  to  accomplish  its  pro- 
phetical functions.  For,  the  nation  as  a  whole  was  charged  with  the  duty  of  being  a 
standing  witness  for,  and  thus  to  prophesy  to  the  whole  world,  the  conciliation  of  real 
existence  with  ultimate  destiny.  In  order  to  be  of«  any  benefit  to  the  world,  the 
prophet  must  maintain  his  freedom  from  becoming  implicated  in  its  ungodly  pur- 
poses, and  must  be  wary  not  to  commit  himself,  as  if  he  were  in  league  with  it,  or  even 
its  servant.  Tho  a  servant  of  God,  his  function  in  the  world  implies  a  certain  sover- 
eignty. 

In  two  lines  thought  develops  that  sovereign  policy  of  prophecy  throughout  the 
history  of  this  race. 

The  one  is  to  proceed  on  the  negative,  inasmuch  as  the  people  in  general  expect 
a  popular  ruler,  a  national  king.  In  accord  with  a  large  measure  of  selfadmiration 
the  imagination  of  the  people  attributes  all  possible  glory  with  a  large  portion  of  il- 
lusive vain-glory  added,  to  its  Prince.  It  is  expected  of  Him,  that  He  coerce  all  na- 
tions of  the  earth  to  submit  to  their  liberating  rule.  The  prophets  partook  of  their 
hope  and  were  conscious  of  the  value  of  the  nation.  But  what  they  declared  con- 
cerning this  value,  was  made  ambiguous  by  public  opinion,  and  perverted  into  belief 
fathered  by  the  common  desire.  The  expectation  dominates  the  vulgar  understanding^ 
that  the  coming  king  would  force  the  entire  world  under  the  dominion  of  the  chosen 
people.  This  very  particular  and  self  complacent  Jewish  nation  persuaded  itself,  that^ 
caste-wise,  it  would  put  its  feet  upon  the  necks  of  the  rest  of  mankind. 

The  other  is  the  positive  line  of  prophetic  thought.  Erroneous  expectations  are 
corrected.  Prophets  predict  that  the  clamor  for  a  messianic  kingdom,  raised  by 
demagogues  under  the  subterfuge  that  public  opinion  with  its  pretensions  demanded 
it  so,  will  be  crushed  out  of  the  political  religionists.  In  this  way  the  wrong  opinions 
and  selfish  desires  came  to  be  exposed  in  the  Bible.  The  prophets  had  many  oppor- 
tunities to  preach  the  fallacy  of  the  vainglorious  ideas  and  to  give  warning  lest  the 
reliance  upon  worldly  power  should  prove  the  extinction  of  their  existence  as  a  state. 
In  contrast  to  the  picture  of  the  triumphant  worldly  king  they  present  the  figure  of  a 
suffering  and  despised  one.  Opposite  the  imaginary  Lord  is  placed  the  forecast  of 
the  Servant  of  God.  He  is  likened  unto  a  tender  branch  sprouting  from  the  root  of 
Jesse,  sprouting  up  from  dry  ground,  from  the  withering  stock  of  that  nation.  By 
numerous  analogies  the  contrast  is  exhibited  between  the  natural  depravity  of  this 
select  nation  and  the  supernatural  influences  enjoyed  by  it.  These  influences  are 
designated  as  infusions  into  the  nation.  The  Servant  of  God  is  announced  to  enter 
history  as  "The  Seed,"  the  "Eternal  Word,"  as  the  scion  engrafted  from  on  high,  in 
order  to  take  upon  Himself  the  sins  of  the  nation  and  of  mankind  in  its  entirety. 

§  93.  What,  concerning  Israel,  the  world  anticipated  or  despised,  cannot  be  un- 
derstood, much  less  properly  esteemed,  unless  we  first  take  our  usual  retrospect  of 
the  Semitic  race  as  a  whole. 

The  ancient  seats  of  culture  on  the  Euphrates  and  the  Nile  had  wrought  various 
and  valuable  improvements  which,  by  way  of  Phenician  inter-relations,  had  been 
communicated  and  distributed,  and  thus  became  common  property  of  all  the  people 
around  the  Mediterranean. 

The  tribe  of  Asshur  contributed  to  the  progress  of  culture  the  partition  of  space  by 
the  zodiac,  and  the  division  of  time  into  weeks  of  seven  days,  and  into  days  of 
twenty  four  hours,  and  many  other  things  irrelevant  to  our  present  investigation. 
For  we  are  here  only  engaged  in  observing  how  the  life  of  humanity  in  general  was 
influenced  by  the  Semitic  form  of  consciousness,  by  the  psychical  phenomena  mani- 
fest in  this  race. 

When  Renan  chose  the  line  of  argument,  that  Monotheism  was  the  product  of  the  stern 
and  still  desert,  he  must  have  admitted  in  his  mind  that  for  which  we  contend,  namely  that 
culture  of  any  nation  is  conditioned  by  its  God-consciousness,  except  that  as  to  the  form  of 
Semitic  religiousness  the  argument  is  futile  once  more.  The  desert  does  not  create  Monothe- 
ism. The  truth  in  the  matter  is  simply  this.  Whenever  the  mind,  engrossed  with  reflections 
over  its  God-consciousness,  at  the  same  time  allows  itself  to  become  nature-bound,  as  in  this 
instance  under  the  perpetual  impress  of  the  waste  plains,  then  the  abstractness  of  the  empty 
and  monotonous  surroundings  may  mislead  the  imagination  to  form,  much  to  the  detriment 
of  Monotheism,  an  obstinate,  fanatical,  and  fatalistic  monism. 


IL  C.  CU.  iV  .  ij  93.     COMPARISON  BETWEEN  ARYAN  AND  SEMITIC  FRAMES  OF  MIND.  193: 

The  ARYAN  amidst  the  variety  of  changing  scenes  may  on  the  one  hand  become 
enured  to  waive  resistence,  and  to  give  himself  up  to  enticing  charms  or  the  over-  »s  compared  with  the 
whelming  dreads  of  the  sensuous  world.    With  the  eastern  Aryan  the  result  is  a  pro-  engages^iteeirwuh 
found  apathy  against  a  life  so  transient.    Or  these  variations,  on  the  other  hand,  rawonaYcom^'ehension. 
urge  man  to  overcome  the  annoying  changes  and  charms  and  threatenings  by  bring-  ^  ^^'  ^^*' 

ing  the  manifold  of  phenomena  under  the  control  of  the  unity  of  consciousness. 
This  took  place  in  the  Aryan  Occident.  In  both  instances  thought  remains  dissatis- 
fied, because  unable  to  arrive  under  such  prejudices  at  a  settlement  of  matters  be- 
tween itself  and  the  diverse  things  of  the  environments.  Aryan  thought  can  not 
cease  to  compose,  to  arrange  and  adjust,  in  short,  to  reduce  the  diversity  of  things  to 
the  unity  of  comprehension  in  accordance  with  the  nature  of  the  mind. 

With  that  kind  of  harmonising  meditation,  inner  assimilation,  and  conciliation 
the  SEMITE  rarely  worries  himself.    Things  may  be  single  entities  and  may  appear  The  semttfe  does  not 

,»  .  mind  things  which 

detached  from  unity— strange  phenomena,  or  they  may  be  forms  which  represent  >"igi't  worry  him 
unity  and  bring  their  inter-relations  to  view— these  things  and  their  relations  do  not 
attract  the  interest  of  the  Semite. 

The  Semite  pure  and  simple  is  eminently  selfish.    He  will  adjust  matters  in  his  J^  ^ufgrid  semshness. 
way  as  suits  his  advantage,  or  else  not  at  all,  and  close  himself  up. 

This  trend  of  mind  became  plain  to  Grill,  when  the  relations  of  Indo-Germanic  and  niTn"d^eve*aledtnthe 

Semitic  roots  of  words  were  discussed.    The  comparison  revealed  the  difference  of  mind  and  language: 

mode  of  thinking  in  a  striking  manner;  "Indo-Germanic  activity  of  the  mind  proves  its  talent  ^y^g  etymology  of  which 

by  a  wealth  of  inflective  forms  and  derivations  of  words ;  while  the  Semitic  mind  is  destitute  of  's,  i^s  compared  with 

such  comprehensiveness  and  taste  for  etymological  forms  expressing  relations  of  things  not^adap^edto^express 

among  each  other ;  it  prefers  to  recede  into  the  essential  substance  of  the  thing  perse,  re-  "la'»««*-    Gbul. 
gardless  of  its  relations."    This  is  saying  a  great  deal. 

The  ARYAN  evinces  a  liking  for  mythological  conceptions,  feeling  his  way  Comparison 
through  a  multitude  of  ideas  and  idols.  andsTmitff'^'' 

The  SEMITE  adheres  to  one  fixed  apperception  resulting  in  his  abstract  and  one-  mind, 
sided  Monotheism.    It  is  the  same  with  respect  to  metaphysical  matters,  where  the  s.  uncompromising 
figure  one  is  sufficient ;  it  settles  all,  persisting  only  in  getting  before  as  many  A.'consfderL°nesrand*' 
ciphers  as  possible.  '^"  ""^s  nsjiai,  u2. 

The  ARYAN  frame  of  mind  gives  room  to  a  marked  considerateness.  It  pays 
attention  to  the  cosmic  diversity.  Its  extremely  emotional  nature  either  avoids 
being  impressed,  or  responds  to  its  impulsiveness,  faces  the  question,  takes  up  the 
task.  Hence  the  Aryan  is  ever  equalising,  and  thereby  cultivates  judgment  and 
sentiment. 

In  the  mean  while  the  SEMITE  looks  at  the  variety  of  earthly  interests  with  an  ^  i^tters^unpropitlous"* 
air  of  disdain,  if  not  his  facial  muscles  will  betray  that  much  of  regard  for  them;  in    *»  seif interest. 
matters  of  human  concern  in  general  he  is  sure  to  act  the  blase.    Inclined  to  an 
abstract  oneness,  for  the  realisation  of  which  he  stakes  his  whole  vehemency,  regard-  s.  loves  to  monopouse. 
less  of  all  the  rest,  he  loves  to  monopolise. 

The  ARYANS  are  given  to  philosophical  speculation.      The  SEMITES,  assert,  a.  speculative, 
premeditate,  and  cultivate  their  talent  of  calculation.    The  SEMITIC  nations  one  ^  '=*^""^'**'°« 
after  another  became  subjects  of  Rome,  whose  eagles  glistened  on  the  Euphrates  and 
Nile,  in  Tyre  and  Carthage,  and  finally  on  Mount  Moriah.      All  their  states  were 
extirpated  on  account  of  their  stubborn,  unmitigated  particularism.  s.  particularism. 

Around  about  Jerusalem  alone  a  few  retired  people  under  the  rule  of  the  gentile 
master  kept  their  peace,  remaining  steadfast  in  their  trust  and  hope. 

They  preserved  their  balance  of  mind  amidst  all  the  fanatical,  factious  riots  a  few  minds  understand 
into  which  pride  upon  Jewish  particularism  embroiled  their  fellow  citizens.    Not  ^nlvlrslusm'^or 
that  they  partook  of  the  unconcerned  blase  of  the  aristocrats,  but  because  they  were  '=''*'^°""*y- 
inculcated  with  the  most  magnanimous  kind  of  Old  Testament  catholicity. 

They  are  awaiting  the  Advent  of  Him,  for  whom  their  contrition  yearns,  around  Faithful  and  patient 

-  waiting  for  the 

whom  their  thoughts  center  in  matters  of  conciliation,  consolation,  and  peace.  They  Redeemer . 
wait  for   the  appearance  of  their   Redeemer,  looking  for  Him  with  their  faces 
covered,  patient  under  unparalleled  afflictions  ;  tho  sitting  upon  the  ruins  of  their 
own  earthly  hopes,  wandering  in  exile,  yet  sympathising  with  a  lost  world  full  of  lost 
sinners.   There  are  Jewish  colonies  in  every  town  of  Syria,  throughout  the  Pelopone- 


194: 


RECAPITULATIONS  AND  PROSPECTS. 


n.  D.  Syllabus. 


Jews  in  the  diaspora 
impress  tlie  gentiles. 


The  rabbi  of 


Alexandria  There 

Sol 


bent  upon  the 
compromise 


between  the  gentile 
forms  of  consciousness 
and  Jewish  hopes. 


sus,  upon  Cyprus  and  Crete,  in  Thessaly,  all  around  the  Black  Sea.  In  Rome  and  in 
Spain  Jews  are  at  home  ;  Toledo  is  a  new  Jerusalem.  These  Jews  in  "the  diaspora" 
exert  as  telling  an  influence  as  ever  upon  the  gentiles,  upon  gentiles  who  are  also 
—waiting.  Think  of  the  thirty  thousand  images  and  names  upon  altars  at  Athens. 
Yet  they  had  to  have  one  more  for  fear  one  God  would  feel  insulted  by  being  slighted. 

But  the  most  numerous  band  of  the  Jews  had  flocked  together  in  Alexandria, 
in  the  center  of  scholastic  Hellenism,  absorbed  in  deep  thoughts,  a  rich, 
philosophical  rabbi  sits.  Greek  wisdom  had  been  impressed  upon  him.  He  is  an  except- 
ional man,  brooding  over  the  secret  of  his  nation,  and  how  it  might  be  made  homo- 
geneous to  the  general  mixture.  How  could  the  coming  One  be  amalgamated  with 
such  a  world  of  thoughts  as  agitated  and  filled  the  large  Roman  crucible  ? 

The  man  thus  contriving  at  a  compromise  is  Philo. 


D.     FOURTH  DIVISON.— THE  DIVIDE  OF  THE  TIMES. 


Postulate  of  the 
synthesis  of  all  that  is 
true  in  thought  and 
dnsire. 

§  12,  13,  33,  100,  102,  105 


Chapt.  1.     Logic  of 
history  not  a  theory  but 
a  fact. 


The  synthesis  not  a 
syllogism  but  a  person, 


Chapt.  2.    Death. 
Postulate  of  a  cosmical 
Mediator, 


Chapt.  3.    Genesis  of  a 
renewed  human  family. 


SYLLABUS. 

History  has  now  been  traced  to  the  pivot  whereupon  it  hinges.  We  stand  upon 
the  divide  of  the  time:  behind  us,  its  propaedeutics,  right  before  us,  its  completion.  It  is 
the  time  when,  from  the  aspect  of  earthly  development  the  ingredient  is  to  be  added 
to  the  heterogeneous  composition,  standing  stagnant  in  the  Roman  basin,  the  solvent 
ingredient  which  will  set  free  the  few  useful  elements  contained  in  the  mixture,  and 
isolate  them  from  the  refuse.  Whatever  is  truly  human  in  all  the  ideas,  desires  and 
religions  contributed  by  the  nations  and  their  cultures,  is  now  to  be  reduced  to  one 
grand,  all-embracing,  all-explaining  synthesis. 

This  could  be  accomplished  only  by  a  man  recognised  as  impartial,  reliable,  and 
of  universal  authority;  by  a  Mediator  able  to  satisfy  all  reasonable  expectations,  and 
to  restore  human  thought,  heart,  and  will  each  in  proportion  to  their  normal  state. 
The  preparatory  stage,  in  which  the  Mediator  was  promised  and  the  fulfillment  of  the 
promise  pledged,  has  come  to  its  end.  There  are  now  held,  what  is  called  in  school 
life,  the  "commencement  exercises." 

The  first  chapter  of  this  division  will  serve  notice  upon  Logics  to  appear  as  witness 
before  the  judgment-seat  of  history.  It  had  charge  of  the  work  to  combine  the  contradictory 
postulates  of  consciousness  concerning  God  and  the  world.  The  premises  now  press  for  the 
conclusion  which  will  justify  the  expectations  in  unlocking  all  the  problems  which  have  ac- 
cumulated. And  the  solution  will  be  given  to  humanity,  historically  given.  For,  the  synthe- 
sis does  not  enter  history  in  the  form  of  a  newly  invented  compound,  not  as  a  confounding  or 
adjustabletheory,  howsoever  ingeniously  wrought  in  order  to  force  itself  upon  every  intellect. 
No.    The  synthesis  appears  as  a  fact,  embodied  in  the  person  of  the  Mediator. 

In  the  next  place  we  meditate  upon  the  cosmical  significance  of  the  Mediator.  His  psy- 
chical suffering  and  the  necessity  of  His  death  make  it  obvious  how  sin,  being  of  spiritual 
origin,  had  completed  its  course  physicalLiY.  Both  His  passion  and  death  explain  what  has 
become  of  this  our  cosmos  and  what  was  the  cause  of  this  present  unsatisfactory  condition. 
Being  referred  to  the  problem  of  death  once  more,  we  now  learn  to  appreciate  death  not  only 
as  the  necessary  fate,  rather  as  the  destiny  of  this  visible  world,  but  also  as  the  first  step  to, 
and  the  prerequisite  for,  its  renewal  in  substance.  We  here  learn,  that  death  pertains  to  the 
metamorphical  restoration  and  is  but  the  transitory  step  to  glorification.  Meanwhile  we 
shall  have  gathered  additional  insight  into  depths  and  heights  of  the  invisibLiE  world  found  in 
close  proximity  to  earthly  history.  In  all  of  this  we  find  postulates  affirmed  and  reason  satis- 
fled;  we  find  the  realisation  of  hopes  which  so  far  had  been  pledged  from  above  by  realities 
which  now  become  unveiled. 

Finally  we  seek  after  the  results  of  this  death  of  the  God-man.  We  look  for  it  in  the 
founding  and  developing  of  an  ethico-historical,  that  is,  organised  realm  of  humanity.  In 
the  Christian  consciousness  we  find  the  means  given  to  attain  freedom  and  to  advance  on  the 
line  of  progressive  civilisation.  Of  the  theme  and  plan  underlying  all  real  development, 
which  virtually  always  had  been  embodied  in  the  person  of  the  Mediator— we  thus  become 
cognisant. 


II  B.  CH.  I.  §  95.-  TRADITIONAL  PAGANISM  IN  THE  ROMAN  CRUCIBLE.  195 

CH.  I.    INTERMEDIATION  POSTULATED  LOGICALLY. -THE  HISTORIC  SYNTHESIS. 

§  95.    When  the  learned,  Hellenising  Jews  of  Alexandria,  Philo  prominent  Survey  of  the 
among  them,  took  a  survey  of  the  educational  factors,  which  itinerated  through  fac"or8^?r?the 
the  empire  from  east  to  west  and  back  again  — factors  interchanging,  if  not  amal-  Roman  crucible, 
gamating  the  rational,  moral  and  practical  elements  of  the  Good,  the  True,  and  the 
Beautiful  —then  the  following  summary  resulted: 

At  Alexandria,  the  point  of  observation,  and  to  the  right  of  it  (if  looking  from  the 
upper  terrace  of  the  Serapeion  towards  the  harbor),  the  net  gain  of  Semitic  culture 
had  accumulated,  whilst  to  the  left  there  extends  the  hemisphere  of  Aryan  culture 
under  discipline  of  Greek  tliought  and  Roman  law. 

This  discipline  had  not  hindered  the  Oriental  element,  which  had  been  inocculated  Recapitulation  o« 
to  Hellenism  long  ago,  from  being  imposed  upon  the  Occidentals.    Plato's  academy  """""^^^  "*"^*^- 
was  absorbed  in  Asiatic  wisdom  just  as  much  as  the  Stoa  of  Zeno  aMiated  itself  to  Alexandria  th. 
Hindoo-principles.    Both  of  these  schools  were  dominant  in  Alexandria,  here  the  Pia-  »b^ervatory. 
tonics,  there  the  New-Pythagorseans. 

In  the  vicinity  of  Alexandria  the  situation  is  this:   Yonder  in  Hellas  the  customary 
rule  of  measure,  moderation,  and  harmony  in  practice  as  well  as  theory.    In  Mgjpt  f^^^^""^ "'  -Egyptian 
the  customary  stiffness:  art  not  yet  emancipated  from  the  control  of  temple-rituals; 
cultus  buried,  out  of  sight  and  out  of  public  life  into  the  lightless  Adyton.     Only  breaki^^g  down!'  ^°* 
remember  the  twenty-two  dark  rooms  secluding  the  Holy  of  Holies  in  Denderah. 

Here  now,  in  Alexandria,  in  the  university  of  Greek  scholasticism,  the  platform  sum  and  sub- 
of  harmony  and  monotony  broke  down  with  a  crash,  like  the  rotten  floor  of  an  old  Jifa  l^r^an  ^™^*^° 
assembly  hall  covered  with  mosaics.    And  from  long  covered  depths  below  broke  culture  under 
forth  a  phantastic  enthusiasm  and  a  turmoil  of  vociferous  intuitions  and  sentiments,  S^Sk^thought  ^ 
playing  havoc  with  the  forms  and  opinions  of  many  centuries.  Revelous  enthu-  Ro^^n  law 

siasm  assumed  the  nature  of  an  overheated  frenzy.    The  dregs  of  the  composition  in 
the  Roman  crucible  were  stirred  up.    From  the  muddy  solution  emerged,  crystallised  Sltom^ooS'*"^ 
as  it  were,  the  mystic  systems  of  the  New-Platonics  and  of  the  Gnostics.    That  is  to  j^^^  piatonics. 
say,  the  demand  was  formally  stated  that  the  chasm  between  this  and  the  higher  „ 

•'  '  "^  '^  New  Pythagorseans: 

world  must  be  bridged  by  any  means:  be  it  through  illumination  on  the  part  of  sub-  su,a.^^  ^^  ^^  ^^  ^^  ^^ 
jective  cognition,  or  through  revelation  on  the  part  of  objective  divinity.  Vl'.Ky^l^hT' }B'' 

124,  125,  130,  loO,   lö7, 

Then  already  that  mood  of  mind  was  in  process  of  fixing  itself,  which  Kingsley  portrayed      ^*^'  ^^*'  ^*^'  \*l'  ]*?' 
with  masterly  hand  in  "Hypatia".    The  issue  is  before  us,  the  postulate  is  definitely  formu- 
lated by  historical  incidents,  and  actual  wants. 

We  proceed  in  gathering  and  connecting  the  results  of  our  inductive  inquiry  into 
the  mythological  details.  We  thereby  shall  see  whether  our  interpretation  of  the  in- 
cidents is  vindicated;  whether  the  truth  of  our  synthetical  conclusion  is  confirmed 
and  the  propositions  may  sustain  the  test  of  deductive  proof. 

§  96.   Everywhere,  at  the  bottom  of  the  ethnical  medley  we  found  a  deep  stratum,  a  ^^^  ^^^j  ^^^,  g^^^j^^ 
sediment  of  turbid  and  dismal  superstitions,  the  fumes  of  which  always  tend  to  rise  to  Sge  thÄLZ^'  *** 
the  surface.    This  condition  indicates  the  deep  water-mark  of  religious  conscious-  K^uiwe^orwr* 
ness.    It  shows  the  tremor  of  man  after  having  torn  loose  from  the  enjoyment  of  the 
original  central-vision  into  things  eternal.    It  shows  the  fitful  jerkings  of  the  nature- 
bound  mind  in  its  abysmal  depth  sequent  to  the  apostasy  and  aggravated  by  the  an- 
guish of  becoming  entirely  lost  after  all.       As  presumptive  facts,  never  entirely 
forgotten,  we  stated:  the  apostasy,  the  ensuing  disrupture,  and  the  dispersion;  and 
either  of  them  or  all  combined  we  took  as  the  problematic  cause  of  this  fear  and 
trembling,  of  the  "  anxious  suspense."    It  stands  to  reason  that  by  force  of  the  fall  ^^^^  attempts  of 
the  communion  with  God  changed  into  fear  of,  and  flight  from,  Him,  and  brought  fte^^iAfo'/oo'd-*'"*'* 
the  mind  into  conflict  with  itself.    The  latter  circumstance  we  took  for  proof  of  the  h«J^';^kin?slS!'''§  34! 
fact  that  all  intercourse  was  not  broken  ofE.    An  ineradicable  religious  sense  was  re- 
tained in  the  emotional  touch  perceived  by  the  feeling  of  value,  through  which  the 
possibility  of  a  reunion  is  enunciated. 

With  respect  to  the  intellect  the  immediateness  and  oneness  of  a  view  into  things 
eternal  was  blurred;  only  a  glimmering  as  from  the  scattered  rays  of  a  distant  star 
in  a  cold  night  continued  its  oscillations;  only  a  faint  memory  as  of  childhood  and 
home  remained  as  an  incipiency  of  visionary  recollection. 


19Ö  NATURAL  DEVELOPMENT  OF  SOCIAL  LIFE  AND  CULTURE.       IL  D.  Ch.  I.  §  96, 

the  historic  postulate  By  foigetting  the  giver,  and  by  the  neglect  of  thanksgiving,  the  blessings  in  the 

from*empt°cs^  ^^^'^^^  realm  of  the  secondary  good  were  corrupted,  and  by  being  deified  were  turned  into 
Remnants  of  curses  and  plagues.  But  even  these  subversions  were  made  serviceable  in  the  reinsta- 
corSc?ousness"  tiou  of  man  toMs  share  of  the  Supreme  Good;  for  just  because  of  the  Relative  Good 
§"2r*M2,"nf48"l3!*55;  affordlug  no  satisfaction,  it  sharpened  the  desire  at  least  for  something  better.  Not- 
57, 58, 59, 74, 95, 109,  withstanding  this  eventual  utilisation  of  the  remnants  of  original  religiousness,  con- 
Remnants  of  original     sclousuess  ebbed  so  low  that  it  was  liable  to  become  paralysed  from  horror.    These 

religion : 

External  fears,  especially  when  they  were  misplaced  and  objectivised,  became  evident  as  the 

traditions,  actual  cause  of  man's  pitiful  condition.  This  conditio ji  was  intended  to  become  ag- 
§39,"«!56,ö9,69>i,j3,  gravated  by  the  misapplicatlou,  abuse,  or  neglect  of  those  indestructible  fragments 
internally:     '  of  rellglous  iuciplencies  common  to,  and  inherent  in  all  men.    The  intention  was 

roS'^s^ss"""'*' *      that  in  these  confused  and  obtuse   remnants  of  primitive  consciousness  each  human 
fuuivate  retiptivu^^for  ^oul  should  possess  SO  much  at  least  as  an  alarming  reminder. 

•something  better,  j^^  ^j^j^  forlorn  Condition  we  found  all  peoples— in  an  abject  state  of  deathly  pallor  from 

^arrning^wn^nder.  fright.    But  that  remainder  of  primitive  religion  which  all  possess,  served  as  an  incitement  to 

self  preservation  and  selfculture  and  kept  them  above  the  line  of  perdition. 

Two  forms  or  Now  two  modes  of  departure  towards  cultural  development  ensued : 

velopment:  In  the  first  place  aggressive  peoples  separating  themselves  from  advanced  clans  inquest 

of  new  homes,  appear  to  have  drifted  over  territories  inhabited  by  preoccupants  of  an  in- 

incitrseifcuftivatlon  of^  f erior  caliber,  thus  forming  a  layer  of  higher  culture  above  the  stratum  of  crude  aborigines. 

the  lower.  Their  superiority  resulted  from  their  better  use  of  the  psychical  faculties  in  the  way  of  mental 

and  moral  selfculture.  Such  nations  thus  kept  themselves  above  the  line  of  unnatural  de- 
generacy, kept  themselves  fit  to  receive  restorative  gifts.  Their  selfculture  consisted  in  the 
rational  exercise  of  the  natural  instincts  of  selfpreservation  and  dominion  over  nature.  Tak- 
ing up  and  pursuing  this  occupation  with  more  or  less  united  effort,    they  prepared  them- 

Causes  of  arrested  selves  for  progressive  enrichment  of  the  mind.    After  the  subjugations  of  inferior  groups,  ac- 

progress.  complished  either  slowly  through  migrations  or  by  sudden  conquests,  the  victors  formed 

ranks  above  the  timid  and  arrested  life  in  the  ethnic  substratum, 

„     ,         i  *     X-  In  such  cases  a  new  world  of  culture  arose  above  the  pre-mythical  order  of  existence 

Development  of  nations  .,.,.  ,  ,..  ,,  ,  .  -^  .  ,,  „,. 

according  to  the  With  its  distorted  traditions  and  deranged  notions.  In  proportion  to  the  degree  of  their  cultus 

S  ai'sV^^s^'t^l's^^se^oS.  *^®  superiors  then  became  a  historical  race.     By  composing  myths  and  epics,  objectivising 

71,  80,  84,  86,  87,  93, 125,  inner  troubles  and  deifying  natural  objects  in  order  to  bring  impressions  and  abstractions  to 

'  139,  isei  175*,  i9o!  rational  coherency,  the  systems  of  religious  symbolism  are  constructed   as    witnessed  in 

temples  and  tombs,  however  primitive  art  may  appear  in  their  ruins.     There  are  always 

cufture  identffieTwith      cliques  of  mentally  or  physically  improved  persons  who  urge  on  progressive  development. 

religion  and  regarded  as  lyj^g  next  Stage  toward  the  historic  goal  discloses  the  fact  that,  upon  the  basis  of  family  or 

oneans  of  oppression.  .  ^    .  ,      ,  »  •    ^'  ^^       r,    ^u.  -^       u.     ■,     ,  •  i      u  -, 

clan  in  patriarchal  ways  of  associating,  the  better  situated  classes  in  command  of  means  and 

Intellectualism       leisure,  form  esoteric  coteries,  priestly  castes,  courts  and  states.    In  pursuance  of  such  difFer- 

unable  tojiproot  ^j^^ jg  j-j^j^  ^f  social  relations,  rights  and  duties  are  fixed  to  hold  society  together.     Conspiring 

§  11, 15,  22,  24.  27,  rings  in  secret  orders,  screened  behind  mysterious  usages,  create  and  overthrow  governments» 

46, 58,  65,  72,  73.  95,  whereby  efforts  to  stop  the  wheels  of  progress  only  assist  in  its  furtherance. 

The  higher  culture  resulting  now  dominates  and  changes  the  face  of  the  country.    The 
educated  classes  represent  the  nation,  the  low  masses  included.     But  tho  the  higher  class  in 
exceptional  cases  attempts  to  abolish  the  crude  forms  of  life  in  the  lower  strata  and  to  elevate 
Oppre^ed  cung      ^j^^  uncultured  in  the  interest  of  the  whole,  it  never  succeeds.  On  the  contrary,  the  subjected 
symbols  as  people  look  at  culture  as  the  cause  of  their  oppression  and  misery  of  which  they  scarcely 

emblems  of  would  have  become  aware,  had  it  not  been  for  the  contrast.    The  less  they  are  cared  for  by  the 

8  11*15^  22^  46  48  54  "aristocrats,"  or  the  more  attempts  are  made  to  force  them  into  better  habits,  the  firmer  will 
58.66,68,72,78,89!  they  stick  to  their  prejudices  and  low  religious  tenets.  The  more  the  neglected  smart  under 
95,  97,  98, 170, 197.  contempt  or  oppression  of  the  privileged,  the  more  fanatical  will  they  cling  to  their  symbolism 
and  ancestral  usages.  The  ruling  classes  will  try  to  break  such  symptoms  of  sullen  with- 
drawal, now  looked  upon  as  conspiracy,  and  to  train  the  ignorant  to  obedience  and  servitude. 
They  do  not  succeed.  The  mass,  always  too  ponderous  to  be  lifted  up,  will  consolidate  in 
class-hatred.    It  will  arise  in  fury. 


.  When  thus  the  culture  of  a  nation  begins  to  shake,  the  higher  classes,  because  of  their 

to  relapse^nto        dominion  being  threatened,  will  find  it  good  policy  rather  to  compromise  on  the  base  of  popu- 
lower  lar  ideas^  to  which  they  have  a  natural  proneness  any  way,  because  their  ancestors  once  held 

religiousness.  them  in   common  with  the  forefathers  of  those  now  retarded.     We  have  noticed  this  in- 

S  48,  67,  ^^1^^°'  ^^''  clination  on  the  part  of  the  upper  grades  of  the  ancient  nobility.  A  flagrant  illustration  of 
'  this  fact  is  furnished  by  the  British  aristocracy  of  the  present  time.  England  counts  thirty- 
one  Catholic  Peers,  sixteen  Lords,  also  Peers  of  the  realm,  fifty-five  baronets,  nineteen 
members  of  the  privy-council,  all  Catholic.  Ireland  is  represented  with  sixty-nine  members 
in  the  House  of  Commons.  This  predilection  of  "old  nobility"  manifests  itself  with  increasing 
force  in  the  measure  as  their  physical,  moral,  and  intellectual  ability  to  resist  declines.  Thus 
the  old  ideas  of  the  lower  strata  gain  the  upper  hand  after  all. 

This  process  of  a  higher  culture,  sinking  to  the  level  of  the  subjected  nationality,  in- 
stead of  elevating  the  retarded,  or  liberating  the  confined  life  of  the  substratum,  we  met  with 
in  India  and  'Mgypt,  less  distinct  in  Mesopotamia,  and   more  or  less  distinct  among  the 


n  D.  CH.  I.  §  97.     DIFFERENTIATION  OF  A  NATION  ON  MENTAL  AND  MORAL  GROUNDS.  197 

southern  Aryans  of  the  Occident.  In  these  nations  the  higher,  immigrated  tribes  always  found  Higher  ranks 

some  elements  even  in  the  lower  stratum  which  they  could  utilise  in  their  construction  of  a  "^ore  prone  to 

higher  culture.    Sometimes  it  was  language,  in  other  instances  the  original  tradition  of  the  lower  are 

unity  of  the  race.     The  higher  race  brought  along  with  them  recollections  of  the  unity  of  disabled  from  be- 

God,  an  intuitive  and  relatively  pure  understanding  of  a  created  nature,  or  an  intuitive  in-  ^'^.fV'f'^ri^fi"^^^  si  * 

sight  into  divine  rule  and  human  destiny.    Such  traditional  heirlooms,  dispersed  throughout         35'  137  'j^'-jq  ^97'^ 

the  entire  human  family,  were  not  altogether  unknown  to  the  lower  races.    They  always 

formed  the  principles  upon  which  some  amalgamation  was  possible.    These  innate  higher 

truths,  however  faint,  lay  dormant  even  in  the  lower  strata,  at  least  in  the  form  of  dreams  Nations  in  which  the 

about  childhood  and  home.  They  lay  dormant  until  awakened  by  pressure.  External  heirlooms  J^*'"'^  substratum  is 

10  1  1..  .  »,...  ,,,  „.,    less  observable. 

were  the  ritual  forms  and  symbolic  representations  of  religious  import,  especially  sacrificial 
performances,  always  adulterated  but  never  missing.  All  these  aboriginal  ideas,  faint  recol- 
lections, and  misunderstood  keepsakes,  were  generally  used  in  the  construction  of  an  en- 
hanced symbolism  and  mythological  system,  regardless  of  their  fitting  into  each  other.  Such 
blending  and  eclecticism  must  of  necessity  have  been  detrimental  to  selfconsciousness,  when 
the  external  exhibition  of  both,  the  internal  and  external  or  traditional  remnants  of  religious 
truths  became  distorted  into  heinous  caricatures  of  cultus. 

Now,  just  as  much  as  the  lower  sphere  possessed  some  traces  of  truth  similar  to  those  of  Higher  ranks  sink  to 
the  higher,  so  did  the  higher  partake  of  the  natural  proclivity  to  degenerate.  Hence  the  higher  ^"  parity. 
classes  were  even  more  apt  to  relapse  into  superstitious  practices  and  crudities  of  the  lower.  The  poor  not  always 
than  the  people  of  the  lower  strata  were  disabled  from  adopting  the  ennobling  influences  from  ^"^  ^^  character,     §  6». 
above. 

Another  kind  of  cultural  development,  however,  has  also  been  observed. 

Some  nations  were  destined  to  build  up  cultures  without  going  to  war  or  sufPering  inva- 
sion, without  being  inundated  or  suppressed  by  a  race  of  suj)eriors.  Yet  the  same  differen- 
tiation ensued,  resulting  in  higher  and  lower  ranks  of  the  same  age  and  generation.  Family 
coteries  are  contracted.  The  common  inheritance  of  elevating  elements,  the  traditions  of 
highest  value,  embodied  for  sacred  preservation  into  symbols  and  legends,  are  misunderstood 
by  some,  and  adulterated  by  others.  The  truths  symbolised,  if  not  idolised,  are  enlarged 
upon  by  prominent  people  who  group  themselves  into  classes,  priesthoods,  estates,  whilst  the 
truths,  traditions  and  paraphrases  are  elaborated  into  a  literature. 

In  such  examples  of  social  growth  we  have  to  deal  with  a  well  defined  culture.  The  uni- 
versal depravity  of  human  nature,  however,  always  tends  downward,  and  it  does  not  take 
many  generations,  until  the  sinking  classes  develop  the  lowest  grades  of  superstition  and  sen- 
sualism. Now,  since  it  is  not  the  class  of  the  poor  people  alone  who  thus  become  low- natured, 
a  nation  accelerates  its  treacherous  downward  course  in  the  measure  as  the  outward  shell  of 
culture  is  embellished,  and  the  cultured  nation  poses  in  the  refinement  of  its  manners. 

The  nation  then,  in  its  entirety  stands  like  a  mountain  with  its  broad  base  enveloped  by 
heavy  fogs,  whilst  its  brow  reflects  the  sun  and  sends  refreshing  breezes  down  through  the 
valleys  at  its  foot.  In  national  mythologies,  like  the  German,  we  shall  behold  the  aspirations  of 
mind  as  it  draws  upon  powers  above.  In  them  the  metaphysical  world  is  taken  hold  of  as  a 
means  of  preservation,  security  and  solace.  In  them  the  cleft  between  the  higher  and  lower 
worlds  is  perceived,  and  the  gaping  wound  of  human  nature  is  felt  and  its  healing  attempted. 
The  dark  abyss  between  the  world  of  spirits  and  the  visible  world  is  felt  to  be  unnatural. 

In  whatever  direction  this  departure  of  natural  culture  develops,  it  is  always  im- 
pinged upon  by  that  anxious  solicitude  which  is  not  fretfulness,  which  turns  into 
superstition,  and  of  which  ignorance  is  not  the  primitive  cause. 

We  met  that  anxious  suspense  with  the  intelligent  and  hilarious  Greeks  as  well 
as  with  the  rational,  practical,  and  heroic  Romans.    It  is  the  same  dreadful  chasm,  paganism  attempts  to. 
which  Mongolian  as  well  as  Aryan  paganism  wanted  to  bridge  by  the  same  means  of  bStÄwo  worw«, 
magic  arts,  sorcery,  conjury,  necromancy,  selftorture,  bribes,  and  even  through  ex- 
piation with  human  sacrifices.    Whatever  mode  of  construction  was  applied,  the 
bridge  was  contrived  in  order  to  have  powers  of  the  other  world  present,  to  make  „.^^^s  use  of  mental 
use  of  the  deity  or  of  demons  for  either  succor  or  success.  Powers  from  above  or  below  L'SveTthe  anxious* 
are  to  be  attracted  by  all  means:  in  orgiastic  frenzy  with  self  mutilation,  in  ecstasies  »«''pence  by  au  means. 
and  trances;  through  illumination  under  mysterious  ceremonies;  or  the  help  is  ex- 
pected from— revelation. 

Remember  that  suggestive  ray  of  light  which,  piercing  the  iEgyptian  darkness, 
fell  upon  the  lips  of  the  idol. 

§  97.    By  way  of  connecting  the  general  retrospect  which  amounts  to  a  universal  Human  initiative 
census  taken  of  the  results  of  pre-Christian  culture,  with  the  prospects  of  the  coming  revelation  is 
sera  a  few  additional  remarks  are  necessary,  concerning  the  incessant  strain  ever  con-  expected.      §  81. 
spicuous  among  the  Indo- Aryans.    From  this  polar  tension  between  the  Orient  and 
the  Occident  specific  issues  have  resulted.    In  a  measure  all  forms  of  thought  are  re- 
ducible to  these  two  hemispheres.    The  play  between  religious  sentiment  and  phan- 
tasy, so  agile  at  composing  myths,  is  explicable  alone  from  the  contrariety  under 
discussion. 


198 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  DESPAIR. 


n.  B.  Ch.  I.  §  97. 


Specific  effects  of 
polarity  between 
Indo-Germanic 
nationalities 


Buddhism  ply- 
ing into  the  play 
between 
sentiment  and 
phantasy. 

§  81  beginning. 


Buddhism 
unmasked  as  an 
ingredient  in  the 
Roman  crucible. 
§  20,  54,  57,  58, 59,62, 
67,  73,  78,  81,  85,  95, 
97. 


perpetuated  in 

the  Occident. 

§  122,  123,  124, 125, 

130,  142,  144,  146, 

147,  149, 150,  185, 

188. 


Evasive  attitude  as  to 
the  cause  of  misery; 
•in  ignored. 


Excuse  of  Buddhistic 
agnosticism. 

Sum  and 
substance  of 
Buddhism. 

§  54,  58,  81, 150, 185, 

188. 

To  be  miserable  or  not 
to  be  at  all  7 

Nothing  but  becoming 
is  real  and  is  the  cause 
of  suffering. 

A  parallel : 

Modern 
^'Christian 

Science." 


The  Turano-Mongolian  substratum  need  not  be  reviewed  in  the  present  discussion,  since 
it  is  possible  for  mankind  in  general  to  sink  into  the  same  baseness  of  consciousness  which 
has  been  described  to  the  point  of  tedium. 

Intending  to  examine  Buddhism  as  to  its  influence  upon  European  thought,  we 
abstract  from  its  Turano-Mongolian  substratum  over  which  it  was  spread,  lacquer- 
like, from  Ceylon  to  Java.  Of  incomparable  greater  significance  was  Buddhism  to 
that  part  of  the  Indo- Aryan  world,  which  was  waiting  for  the  solvent  of  the  com- 
pound mixture  in  the  Roman  crucible  and  of  which  Buddhism  also  was  an  ingredi- 
ent. When  trying  to  analyse  the  compound,  we  observed  that  ominous  commotion 
in  the  spiritual  sphere,  which  in  so  remarkable  a  manner  agitated  both  branches  of 
the  Aryan  family  and  even  the  Semitic  circle  from  the  Ganges  to  the  Rubicon. 

Buddhism  is  in  essence  a  philosophical  attempt  at  formulating  a  world-theory 
devoid  of  God-consciousness. 

This  granted,  we  may,  considering  its  preceding  phases  of  speculation,  call  it  the 
methodology  of  scepticism  which  finally  revels  in  sophistry,  poses  in  indifference,  or 
busies  itself  with  eclecticism. 

Buddhism  as  afläliated  with  Brahmanism  reasons  thus: 

Existence  which  men  find  themselves  thrust  upon,  or  surrounded  with,  involves 
all  in  a  continual  flux  of  rise  and  decay.  Existence  is  a  state,  a  condition,  it  is  not 
constituted  of  real  entities,  it  is  nothing  but  pain  and  passiveness.  The  cause  of  this 
misery  is  that  we  can  not  know  the  real  essence  of  things.  This  ignorance  insists 
upon  agnosticism,  which  is  but  feigned  nescience  with  regard  to  the  bond  of  unity 
between  ones  own  self,  the  ego,  and  the  source  of  all  selfhood. 

Agnosticism  is  the  knowledge  merely  of  being  so,  i.  e.,  the  knowledge  of  not 
knowing.  But  since  not  to  know  is  the  source  of  all  suffering  it  follows  that  exis- 
tence is  misery  pure  and  simple,  that  existence  consists  in  nothing  but  endurance. 
Now,  having  this  knowledge  of  mere  being,  that  is,  suffering  without  knowing,  hence 
possessing  nothing  but  agnosticism— what,  then,  constitutes  knowledge?  The  agnos- 
tic science  of  being  miserable  is,  at  the  same  time,  knowledge  of  the  fact  that  upon 
earth  there  is,  in  reality,  nothing.  All  that  is  real  is  nothing  but  perpetual  undula- 
tion between  being  and  being  nothing,  and  back  again.  Hence  becoming  alone  is 
really  something.  This  "becoming"  alone  furnishes  the  world  its  contents;  hence 
"becoming"  alone  is  what  the  contents  consist  of,  it  is  the  essence  of  existence, 
namely  of  suffering,  that  is,  of  enduring.  Life  is  to  be  taken  as  passiveness,  that's  all. 
The  acknowledgment  of  sin  and  guilt  is  evaded,  and  this  is  all  that  Buddhism  cares 
for,  all  it  signifies  as— a  religion. 

According  to  this  sophistry  absolute  restlessness,  the  fluctuating  change  of  all 
things,  alone  creates  suffering  (was  "Leiden  schafft"  said  Oldenberg)  and  renders  ex- 
istence an  unceasing  suffering  under  passiveness.  The  trouble  is  that  people  who  are 
fond  of  such  knowledge  would  not  be  able  to  say:  1  suffer,  or  you  suffer,  because  I  and 
you  would  be  mere  apparitions,  each  an  absolute  selfdelusion  in  the  concrete. 

As  a  thing  of  certainty  there  would  remain  nothing  but  a  state  of  sufferance,  be- 
cause this  would  be  all  that  existence  consists  of;  in  reality  it  would  have  nothing  on 
which  to  subsist. 

under  any  such  distortive  and  abortive  ratiocination  such  premises  can  yield  no 
other  knowledge,  but  that  suffering  happens  to  be  the  result  of  the  process  of  becom- 
ing and  vanishing.  Evidently  the  science  of  agnosticism  prefers  to  sublimate  exis- 
tence and  to  invent  a  theory  of  annihilation  in  order  to  dodge  a  confession  of  sin: 
rather  than  to  acknowledge  the  real  cause  of  misery.  Still,  for  the  time  being  Budd- 
hism undefiled  may  be  excused  on  account  of  real  ignorance. 

But  how  could  this  Asiatic  world- theory  encroach  upon  West- Aryan  thought? 
For,  with  this  formulation  of  nescience,  with  this  systematised  scepticism  of  the 
senile  Orient— which  dissolves  everything  into  blue  ether,  as  repeated  by  Hume,  pre- 
cisely corresponds  the  contemporaneous  scepticism  of  the  juvenile  West  as  promul- 
gated by  Heracleitos  and  his  followers.  Listen  to  his  famous  reasoning,  and  see  if  it 
is  not  palmed  off  as  the  latest  news  by  some  writers  of  the  Asiatic  type: 


n.  B.  CH.  I.  §  97.  AGNOSTICISM  AND  ANNIHILATION.  199 

"Not  the  being  (the  ens)  is  anything,  neither  is  not-to-be.    The  vital  transition  of  Ignosticism. 
being  into  not-being,  and  of  not-being  into  being,  this  becoming  alone  is  really  some-  pormuiated  nescience; 
thing.    Everything  else  has  no  subsistence,  all  is  of  no  value,  all  vanishes,  all  is  in  ^^thod""  ''**^'  * 
vain,  because  all  is  in  a  state  of  flux.    We  are  bound  up  into  an  empty  circuit  of  be- 
coming, coming  and  going." 

If  Juvenal  and  ^Elian  speak  of  Heracleitos'  continual  weeping  over  the  wickedness  of  the  Heracleitos' 
people,  then  they  must  not  have  understood  him.    His  views  of  life,  in  keeping  with  his  mode  contem'poraneoiw'and* 
of  thinking,  make  it  evident,  that  his  tears  were  shed  over  the  delinquencies  and  the  badness  corresponding  with 
of  the  world  as  a  whole,  because  nothing  in  it  remains,  all  changes  and  vanishes.      Peniten-  Misunderstood  by  " 
tial  tears  in  confession  of  sinfulness  they  were  certainly  not.  Juvena-l.    ^lian. 

This  condition  of  self  inflicted  ignorance  as  to  the  cause  of  world-soreness  affords 
the  best  insight  into  the  origin  and  transmission  of  that  mode  of  thinking  which 
gives  itself  up  to  indifference,  real  or  feigned,  to  that  all-the-sameness  which  has 
abandoned  every  hold,  every  hope.    Such  a  philosophy  of  despair,  if  consistent,  would  Ph»osophy  of  despair. 
signalise  the  death  of  all  science,  of  course. 

But  agnosticism  repudiates  itself,  because  it  is  as  impossible  to  give  up  the  J^jo^^i^ofs^**"*^^ 
search  after  the  bridge  between  the  ens  and  the  entity,  the  existing  and  the  subsisting,,  biiities  at  once: 
as  it  is  to  cease  thinking.    Hence  it  is  plain  that  nihilism  does  not  expect  of  us  to  to  form  a 
follow  suit  in  selfcontradiction  and  selfannihilation,  else  it  would  not  demand  two  conception  of 

'  nothingness  and 

impossibilities  at  once:  to  form  a  conception  of  nothing  and  then  to  stop  thinking.       ^^  ^^^   thinkin 

This  aberration  of  the  mind  originated  in  yonder  period  when  excitement  went 
high  and  Babylon  went  down.    For  at  that  time  culture  had  risen  to  one  of  these  Buddhistic 

pessimism 

heights,  where  people  are  seized  with  dizziness,  where  Pantheism  begins  to  level  re-  leveis  the  heights  of 

*=*  *^       *^  '  °  culture  through 

ligious  thought,  that  is,  where  the  ruling  classes  try  to  palliate  idolatry  by  applying  Pantheism,  (i.  e. 
speculative  thought,  by  personifying  pantheistic  ideas  in  the  same  manner,  as  natu-  ?S^e^^sS<mia^ 
ral  phenomena  are  personified  and  fears  objectivised.    It  is  now  perceptible  how  all  gjf "  J^^ftjon  ) 
of  the  Aryans  came  to  participate  in  every  modification  and  mutilation  of  conscious-  Transferred  to 
ness.    The  routes  by  which  Buddhistic  ideas  were  disseminated  are  marked  by  the  the  Occiden^t.  ^^^ 
gradual  retreat  of  the  spirit  of  reverence  and  devotion,  until  at  the  central  point  of       '    'i48, 149,  iss! 
time  the  Stoa  extolled  the  wisdom  of  resignation,  of  suicide,  of  "all-one-ness."  stoa  and  suicide. 

Intellectually,  by  the  logic  of  facts,  the  heights  of  culture  are  thus  all  levelled 
now.  In  the  East  and  in  the  West  the  ways  are  prepared  for  "the  Advent".  Still 
before  we  can  begin  to  fully  understand  its  great  significance,  a  few  more  prelimi- 
naries need  yet  to  be  considered. 

We  understood  Buddhism  to  be  essentially  a  philosophical  attempt.    It  must  be  Buddhi=sm  not 
added  that  it  attempted  something  more  practical,  and  succeeded.     Asoka  wanted  to  b^ome?  theory 
make  use  of  it  for  governmental  purposes.    Hence  it  did  no  longer  remain  a  mere 
theoretical  scheme  to  be  indoctrinated,  but  became  a  society  incorporate.    It  ever  §"4^^f ,^58,^143',  i85, 
propagated  as  a  sort  of  an  order;  it  now  became  an  organism,  until  at  about  A.  D.  ^^* 

1400,  it  assumed  the  form  of  a  theocracy  in  Tibet.    Without  such  an  embodiment  a™d °n^^J[ltS*" 
Buddhism  would  not  have  been  able  to  start  a  series  of  "reformers",  to  the  ranks  of  a^'^^^ 
which  the  selfconstituted  selfsalvationists  from  Benares  to  Kroton  and  Lhassa  have 
been  raised.    Doctrines  can  not  be  perpetuated  as  mere  theories;  they  must  become  embodied 
in  teachers;  then  they  become  parts  of  the  "Logic  of  facts." 

Moreover,  Buddhism  was  aggressive,  and  its  success  demonstrates  the  emptiness  Buddhism  and 
of  the  receptacle,  ready  for  refilling.    Thus  it  became  an  organising  factor  in  the  prfionuSnf ^" the™ 
history  of  the  mind,  and  equally  so  its  counterpart,  the  almost  monastic  Pythagorse-  ISTnew  society**'****''*^ 
anism  in  Great-Greece  and  Sicily.    Both  of  these  influential  organised  societies  east 
and  west  were  in  passiveness  bound  upon  the  great  wheel  of  transmigration.    They 
were  well  aware  that  the  necessary  conclusion  from  their  premises  must  be  metem- 
psychosis, incarnation,  palingenesis.    It  was  that  which  set  the  brains  all  in  a  whirl. 
As  memorials  of  ancient  ancestor-worship  these  orders  exerted  such  a  reviving  in- 
fluence as  to  assist  largely  in  bringing  that  old  cult  to  its  zenith  in  the  apotheosis  of 
the  emperor-god.    In  that  capacity  both  Buddhism  and  Pythagorseanism,  its  pendant.  Buddhism  the 
represent  the  prophecy  of  nature  which  carries  in  itself  so  many  premonitions  of  the  natural 

n  ...     J,  ,  »    T         ,.,...,.»,        o^i  ^.1   prophecy  of  the 

all-surpassing  event  m  the  garden  of  Joseph,  the  Arimathian.    And  as  theocratical  church, 
organisations  they  appear  in  line  with,  at  least  as  foreshadowing       the  prevenient  f  J|'i^'  147,1^',  m\ 
prototype  of  that  community,  which  in  the  Middle-ages  was  to  grow  up  among  the      iso,  'i86,'i88,'  191. 
European  Aryans. 


200 


BUDDHISTIC  IDEAS  TRANSMITTED  TO  EUROPE. 


II.  D.  CH.  I.  § 


Postulates  of  the  divine 
presence  to  communicate 
with. 


TLouffht  dispair- 
ing  of  all  reality 
is  unable  to 
invent  a  God 
present  in  the 
world. 


Neither  can  thought 
rest  until  it  gets  even 
with  the  chasm  between 
Creator  and  creation. 


Pantheistic 
g-eneralness  and 
oppression. 

§  54,  58,  66,  72,  89, 
95,  96, 170, 185,  195. 


resisted  by  the 
Greeks, 

revived  in  the 
Stoa. 


Only  a  false 
conception  of 
either  Buddhism 
or  Christianity 
could  once  hold 
Platonism  and 
the  Stoa  to  be 
transitory  stages 
toward 
Christianity. 


The  element  of  truth 
in  mythological 
Intuition. 


Idea  of  incarna- 
tion is  not  so 
much  a  logical 
postulate  as  it  is 
an  emotional 
anticipation. 


§  98.  Nothing  prevents  us  from  passing  now  to  the  conclusive  disquisition.  The 
inciting  principle,  which  unbeknown  and  inadvertently  worked  out  the  mythical  and 
pantheistical  development,  was  virtually  the  involuntary  and  unconscious  longing  of 
the  heart  for  communication  with  a  present  deity.  The  mind  craves  after  the  assur- 
ance of  friendship  with,  and  the  favor  of,  the  divine  being.  The  emotional  part 
yearns  after  that  satisfaction  which  can  be  enjoyed  only  in  the  intimate  relation  to 
God.  Of  this  the  mind  became  conscious  by  degrees.  But  how  was  thought  to 
combine  this  personal  presence  with  its  necessary  ubiquitousness  in  the  world? 
Moreover,  how  could  that  form  of  thought,  which  judges  the  whole  visible  world  and 
all  that  comes  into  man  through  sense-perception  as  that  which  is  to  be  escaped 
from— how  could  that  form  of  thought,  which  allows  itself  to  be  deceived  by  some- 
thing which  is  nothing,  comprehend  and  much  less  invent  a  real  presence  of  God 
among  men?  Certainly,  thought,  totally  perplexed  and  despairing  of  all  reality,  can 
not  be  expected  to  have  invented  an  idea  of  a  god  worthy  of  being  present  in  the 
historical  world. 

It  is  not  necessary  to  enlarge  any  further  upon  the  contradictions  in  the  reason- 
ing of  Buddhism  and  its  affiliations.  Both  Buddhism  and  Pythagorseanism  (with 
Stoicism,  its  pendant)  saw  the  difficulty.  Of  the  chasm  they  had  knowledge.  Call  it 
passion,  misery,  call  it  becoming,  name  it  nothing— the  names  were  given  to  hide  the 
difficulty  and  to  deny  the  chasm,  since  thought  had  ventured  to  look  into  it  and 
would  not  admit  that  it  could  not  bridge  it.  Why  not  take  the  chasm  for  what  it 
really  is,  namely  the  crushing  feeling  of  reproach  and  guilt,  sequent  to  sin,— since 
denial  is  of  no  avail,  and  since  the  chasm  of  necessity  remains  to  be  bridged? 

This  necessity  became  an  acknowledged  postulate  as  soon  as  oppression  awakened 
the  oriental  spirit  from  its  speculative  dreams  about  mind  and  soul,  during  which 
human  consciousness  floated  away  into  the  vapors  of  a  most  abstract  and  abstruse 
generalness.  It  became  evident,  how  generalness  is  ever  absorbing  the  dignity  and 
liberty,  the  right  of,  and  the  sympathy  due  to,  personal  life;  especially  in  a  period  of 
distress  and  despair  like  the  one  just  closed,  in  which  the  totality  of  the  human  race 
was  out  of  joint.  Greece  emancipated  herself  from  that  generalness  which  devours 
all  aspiration,  all  thought,  all  personality,  as  Saturn  devours  his  own  children.  For 
this,  in  the  Greek  vernacular,  is  the  empiric  fruit  of  the  Buddha-Stoa. 

In  the  face  of  this  fact  that  culture  which  made  even  selfdestruction  a  religious  duty 
rather  than  confess  the  sin  and  acknowledge  the  necessity  of  a  Saviour ;  in  the  face  of  that 
culture,  issuing  from  the  old  wisdom  and  talking  about  transmigration  and  preservation  of 
forces,  yet  refusing  faith  in  personal  immortality,  the  Stoa  and  Platonism  ought  never  to 
have  been  taken  as  links  in  the  "evolution"  of  Christianity. 

Or  else  that  sort  of  Christianity  needs  to  be  branded  as  counterfeit  which  obviously  has 
more  in  common  with  Tibet  than  with  Galilee.  Such  Christian  "religion"  can  not  be  estimated 
as  more  than  barren  intellectualism,  or  as  more  than  a  new  and  impoverished  edition  of 
Buddhism,  which  prefers  a  denial  of  the  chasm  to  an  acknowledgment  of  the  necessity  of  the 
bridge. 

After  Greek  naturalism  had  analysed  the  absurdity  of  Hindoo  wisdom;  after  the 
demand  was  formally  stated  that  "Pan"  must  be  conceivable  as  something  palpable 
or  else  withdraw  his  claim  on  consideration;  when  the  deity  again  was  conceived  as 
being  objectively  difiEerentiated,  and  definite  attributes  were  assigned  to  it;  then 
thought  came  nearer  home  to  truth  and  hastened  to  draw  the  bridge  of— incarnation. 
The  conception  of  this  idea  by  natural  reason  is  its  acknowledgment,  that  the  chasm 
is  to  be  bridged,  and  that  this  can  be  expected  only— from  above. 

The  idea  of  an  incarnation,  as  repristinated  even  upon  Buddhism  under  pressure 
of  Brahmanism,  was  not  so  much  a  logical  as  an  emotional  postulate.  The  idea  of 
incarnation  arose  from  the  wish  fathering  the  thought,  and  the  desire  arose  from  the 
faculties  of  valuation  and  volition  combined.  As  a  postulate,  tho  only  a  demand  of 
the  emotion,  the  idea  of  incarnation  simply  anticipated  the  logic  of  facts,  which  is 
the  logic  of  history. 

In  order  to  discern  this  genesis  of  the  historical  postulate,  no  more  is  required 
than  to  consider  the  true  religious  elements  reflecting  from  the  glowing  mountain  tops 
of  retired  minds,  who  stood  alone  with  their  serious  thoughts,  before  the  night  of 
sceptical  sophistry  broke  in.    We  understand  the  trend  of  mythological  incarnations 


n.  D.  CH.  I.  §  99.  EMOTIONAL  POSTULATE  OF  INCARNATION.  201 

as  the  last  attempt  to  hold  to  the  deity  as  a  present  being.    None  but  a  definite  God  promptings  of  the 
in  history  can  be  trusted  as  a  rest  and  refuge  in  the  wild  rush,  which  on  all  sides,  ^^"^  '"^*  empirical. 
not  alone  in  Benares  and  Rome,  tears  up  existence  with  almost  irresistible  rage. 

Meditate  upon  the  empiric  feelings  of  the  human  heart. 

On  the  one  hand,  man  is  drawn  to  abandon  himself  to  his  grief  in  seclusion,  when  earthly  Either  selfdelivery 
expectations  fail  and  turn  to  bitter  disappointment.    Snatched  from  his  customary  associates,   JTelV^™"  *^°^*  *^* 
or  thrown  out  of  position,  the  isolated  person  stands  without  hold  and  without  hope  in  the 
wide  solitude  between  the  One  up  yonder  and  the  unavailing  plenitude  below,  distressed  with-  ^"^^"°^  °'  *•*'*  world") 
out  any  solace.    In  a  dazed  selfconsciousness,  in  brooding  and  dulling  despondency,  torturing 
himself  whilst  nursing  his  grief  and  his  worldly  sorrow,  the  unfortunate  one  covets  to  throw 
himself  into  the  "all-One",  who  seems  to  open  His  arms  above  his  head,  in  order  to  relieve 
him  from  all  his  trouble,  and  to  receive  and  reward  him  for  letting  the  world  alone,  by  way 
of— selfannihilation.     The  subtile  forms  of  that  mood  of  a  sick  consciousness  are  quietism, 
asceticism,  pessimism. 

On  the  other  hand  man  seeks  to  spare  himself  such  melancholy.    Something  incites  and  or  abandonment  to  the 
prompts  him  to  divert  his  mind  in  paroxysms  of  dissipation  and  sensuality.     He  strives  to  theTeTlf 'm^'"^  ** 
overcome  tribulations  by  forgetting  them  on  the  bosom  of  mother  nature.     He  hankers  (Sensualism) 

after,  and  throws  himself  away  into,  the  pleasures  of  the  world  which  bloom  at  his  feet.  The 
change  from  hedonism  to  pessimism  in  the  Cyrensean  school  once  for  all  illustrates  this 
double  form  of  apathy  as  a  selfsalvation  from  the  woes  of  earth  and  of  sin. 

Is  it  put  too  strong  if  the  statement  is  made,  that  there  is  not  a  single  sane  per- 
son who  has  not  had  the  experience  of  this  polar  strain  within  his  own  conscious-  Human  longings, 
ness?    The  suffering  soul,  harassed  hither  and  thither,  needs  the  mean  and  seeks  Iarnei?^c1>nvey 
a  rest.    Hence  the  willingness  to  listen  to  the  solicitations  of  intuitive  emotion;  the  force  of  the 
hence  the  attempts  to  construct  them  into  incarnations  in  order  to  gain  the  presence  o^'^the^'**^  "  ^  ^ 
of  the  divine  being  in  human  form  and  natural  reality.    Hence  the  expectation  of  §^^^u^l^^u,  lOO. 
Ood  descending  to  become  man.    This  impulsive  longing  after  a  perceptible  presence 
of  the  infinite  in  the  finite,  so  conspicuous  in  the  oriental  systems  of  religion,  is  re- 
flected in  the  history  of  philosophy  from  the  Vedas  down  to  the  gnostics  with  their 
emanations,  and  the  agnostics  with  their  "evolution."    Everywhere  the  idea  under, 
lies,  that  if  the  immanency  of  the  transcendental  form  of  life  were  realised,  all  the  ' 

problems  of  life  would  find  their  solution  upon  the  grounds  of  the  higher  world.  For 
never  can  man  forget  this  higher  world. 

The  desire  was  father  of  the  thought,  but  the  desire  is  perfectly  reasonable— for  incidents  expressing 
man  ever  wants  a  something  better  to  which  he  feels  himself  entitled.    The  thought  was,  facts  ftfe-'"*' 
of  course,  not  thus  concisely  formulated;  it  is  veiled  inasmuch  as  the  people  uttering  shadowing  the 

.  .     ,  ,       J.      1     J.  1    1       Tx  XI      X,  .  .  ,,        incarnation. 

their  longings  were  not  clear  about  what  was  needed.    It  was  the  thought,  neverthe-     §  53, 77, 78,  8i,  9i, 
less,  which  inadvertently  divined  what  was  going  to  happen,  and  which  thought,  tho  ^'  ^^^'  ^^^'  \^]  15?; 
unconscious  of  the  logic  of  matters  and  facts,  found  that  logic  and  those  facts  fore- 
shadowed in  itself,  thus  meeting  its  materialisation  half  way,  so  to  speak.    What 
other  conclusion  could  be  drawn  from  the  "aeons",  from  the 'middle-beings",  the  "wis- 
dom ',  from  "THE  LOGOS"? 

All  the  endeavors  successively  alternating  in  Asia  Anterior,  have  only  one  end  in 
view:  to  conceive  the  deity  as  entering  into  historical  existence  in  order  to  become 
confirmed  in  their  belief  of  the  presence  of  God  from  above.    The  theme  from  all  The  shape  which  these 
the  various  imploring  invocations  is  the  historical  postulate:    A  God  can,  and  is  apt  Seek mSo*^^ ''' 
to  become  man. 

§  99.  At  the  point  of  time  under  discussion  the  Asiatic  anticipations  of  the  God- 
man  were  reiterated  by  the  gnostics,  and  the  occidental  countersign,  as  given  in 
Greek  mythology,  was  heard  in  the  Orient. 

It  is  clear  at  first  glance  that  the  Graeco-Roman  mode  of  anticipating  the  incarna- 
tion varies  from  that  of  the  Hindoos. 

This  comparatively  youthful  culture  had  the  advantage  of  being  untrammeled  by 
that  ultra-conservatism  which  poses  in  its  antiquity.  Whilst  the  sedate  Hindoo  had 
been  held  in  nature's  soft  but  cruel  embrace,  the  hilarious  Hellene  easily  freed  him- 
self from  its  hypnotising  charm.  Instead  of  dozing  under  an  incubus,  he  leaped 
forth  to  action.  In  Greece  every  circumstance  would  have  allured  the  mind  to  sink 
into  the  embrace  of  nature,  to  encourage  and  elevate  it  so  as  to  express  thoughts 
beautifully.    Serene  Hellas  was  dear  to  her  sons,  for  she  responded  to  their  ideas  in 


202 

Camparison 
between  Hindoo 
and  Hellenic 
anticipations. 

Hindoo  mind  in 
nature's  embrace; 
Greek  embraces 
nature. 

Hellas  a  fair  country 
b.it  none  to  dream  in. 
"Man  the  measure  of 
all  things." 

Nature  being 
humanised 

by  the  Hellenes,  the 
gods  were  pepresented 
as  ideal  men ; 
whilst  Hindoos 
materialise  the  gods  and 
let  the  world  evaporate. 


Greeks  well  awaFe  of 
the  cleft  between  God 
and  men,  annihilate  it 
by  ignoring  it. 


Futility  of  the 
experiment. 


Man  a  divine  being. 


Divinations  of 
the  unification 
of  God  and  the 
world  in  Rome ; 
as  compared  with 
those  of  Greece. 


The  logic  of  facts 
moves  in  the 
direction  of  the 
necessity  that 
man  is  to  become 
divine. 

Extremes  of 
Benares  and 
Borne  meet. 

§  4,  8, 10, 11. 


EXERTIONS  TO  CLOSE  THE  CHASM  OF  DUAL  FORM  OF  BEING.       II.  D.  Ch.  I.  §  99. 

her  murmuring  springs,  meandering  streams,  and  idyllic  mountain  dales.  Yet  it  was 
no  dream-land.  The  crude  power  of  India  had  spent  itself  in  the  engagement  with 
monstrous  phantasms.  In  Greek  memory  still  linsjers  the  mirage  of  Titanic  violence, 
but  it  is  soon  effaced,  and  is  thrown  down  and  out.  Measured  and  composed  the 
figure  of  man  stands  forth.  With  this  the  standard  of  value  is  given;  man  is  the 
measure  of  all  things,  they  shall  not  master  him;  ugly  dreams  and  uncouth  god-im- 
ages are  condemned;  the  gods  are  represented  as  ideal  men. 

Since  nature  is  humanised,  man  alone  is  fit  to  personify  deities;  one  more  step 
and  man  is  deified.  It  is  no  longer  held,  as  it  was  in  Asia,  that  the  gods  are  natur- 
alised and  nature  is  doomed  to  evaporate.  And  the  diverging  course  of  Greek  mythol- 
ogy proceeds,  we  might  say,  under  the  eyes  of  the  people.  They  are  wide  awake,  al- 
most conscious  of  the  procedure,  and  intensely  interested  in  what  they  are  doing  con- 
cerning the  matter. 

The  taste  for  adjusting  and  harmonising  seemed  greatly  to  assist  in  the  attempt 
to  close  up  the  cleft  yawning  between  the  gods  and  the  world.  The  Greek  is  con- 
scious of  his  position  as  a  mediator  between  them,  hence,  with  a  light  heart,  he  covers 
the  cleft  by  simply  treating  it  with  silent  contempt.  He  himself  puts  the  cleft  away. 
He  is  not  sure  of  the  accomplishment.  But  he  is  satisfied  of  this  truth,  at  any  rate 
that  it  is  not  necessary  for  man  to  annihilate  himself.  Rather  annihilate  the  cleft. 
Hellenic  consciousness  has  such  high  opinion  of  its  thought  and  taste,  as  to  feel  it- 
self above  the  cleft,— until  it  sees  the  futility  of  its  experiment.  Somewhat  super- 
ficially framed,  the  Greek  mind  thinks  to  have  found  the  divine  man,  and  to  have 
overcome  the  portentous  difficulty.  To  have  found  man  a  divine  being  and  his  guest 
a  hero  of  highest  honors,  canonised  at  the  Olympian  court:  these  are  ideas  so  beauti- 
ful as  to  make  Schiller  and  Goethe  desirous  of  their  revival  and  of  their  realisation 
becoming  manifest. 

Yet  the  cleft  was  merely  deferred,  covered  with  comforts  taken  from  beneath. 
The  material  for  the  covering  was  mixed  with  the  pre-mythical  ingrain  of  ancestor- 
worship  from  the  deep  substratum.  This  made  the  selfdelusion  the  more  severe. 
Man  as  he  is,  exercising  his  natural  endowments  so  as  to  keep  them  in  working 
order,  cultivating  their  proper  cooperation  with  other  minds,  so  as  to  keep  himself 
susceptible  of  higher  gifts,  and  to  prepare  himself  for  their  reception,— increases  his 
capability  of  approaching  the  divine  presence.  For,  he  carries  the  idea  of  God  with- 
in himself  and  thinks  of  Him,  altho  he  cannot  produce  out  of  himself  the  Good,  much 
less  during  the  process  of  selfabandonment.  The  Greek  is  indefatigable  at  his  task. 
He  thinks  and  toils  to  represent  the  presence  of  the  divine  in  the  realities  of  present 
life.    He  works  all  he  can,— but  the  one  little  fault  of  levity  spoils  it  all. 

The  Romans  worked  out  their  lesson  not  less  assiduously  and,  in  respect  to  earn- 
estness, excelled  the  Greeks.  Whatever  divination  the  Romans  observed  to  impress 
itself  upon  their  minds,  was  not  allowed  to  be  marred  by  arbitrariness.  Possessing 
more  will-power,  they  kept  the  mind  under  discipline.  The  state  personified,  and— 
after  the  innovation  of  the  apotheoses— even  deified,  afforded  objective  restraint 
against  subjectivism.  The  idea  of  civic  unity  as  symbolised  in  the  "fasces",  the 
emblem  of  authority,  prevented  subjectivism  from  dismembering  the  state.  The 
Roman  version  of  man's  destiny  to  become  like  unto  God  is  involuntarily  rendered  in 
the  emperor-god.  Just  as  the  period  of  republicanism  closed  with  Octavian,  and  just 
•as  the  world  looked  up  to  the  summit  of  its  glory,  where  Augustus  stood,  so  the 
gods  of  the  ancient  world  were  closed  up  in  the  "Pantheon." 

The  historic  coefficients  with  combined  energies  moved  in  the  direction  of  the 
necessity  of  a  man  becoming  God.  The  principal  modifications  of  the  thought  of  a 
God  incarnate,  progressing  toward  the  equation  of  the  great  antithesis,  and  toward 
amalgamation  in  a  synthesis  throughout  the  universal  history  of  the  old  world, 
finally  meet  and  mingle  in  the  Roman  basin.  Here  the  contradiction  seems  to  disap- 
pear. When  the  extremes  of  Rome  and  Benares  meet,  the  process  of  anticipating 
comes  to  its  climax  and  end. 

Where  the  complex  life  of  the  old  world  with  all  its  cultures  and  treasures  is 
summed  up  in  the  inventory  made  by  the  emperor-god  wliich  revealed  the  bank- 
ruptcy of  worldly  culture,  in  the  first  year  of  universal  peace;  there  also  the  strain 


11.  D.  Ch.  I.  §  100.  PHILO  IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  SYNTHESIS.  203 

caused  by  the  duplex  problem  of  oriental  and  occidental  religious  thought,  may  be 
expected  to  come  to  its  equipoise. 

For  centuries  this  had  not  been  possible.  The  young  nations  of  the  Occident 
could  simply  look  at  the  oriental  contrast,  upon  the  reverse  side  of  their  own  prevail- 
ing idea,  as  upon  something  very  strange,  or  as  something  altogether  unsuitable  for 
their  new  conditions,  as  upon  religions  which  had  outlived  themselves  long  ago. 

The  young  nations  with  their  pride  of  being  "selfmade  men"  having  selfmade 
gods,  had  first  to  grow  old  and  sedate.  And  these  young  nations,  living  in  much 
faster  style,  became  old  soon  enough. 

Now  then,  the  balance  sheets  of  the  great  Roman  clearing-house  were  to  be  com-  ^^^^^^  ^^  ^^^ 
pared,  and  differences  settled.    The  liquidations  were  carried  out  then  and  there,  in  universal  census, 
those  days  when  the  command  of  the  great  census,  to  be  taken,  was  sent  into  the 
provinces  of  the  "world-orbit". 

§  100.  But  could  any  transaction  at  the  exchange  ever  be  accomplished  without  of '^uitlTrai^fssX""** 
Semitic  interference?  Just  recently  the  stiff  orthodox  Monotheism  of  the  Semites  had  ^°"^°  clearing-house. 
been  forced  into  the  medley  crowd. 

This  is  now  to  be  counted  upon,  too. 

We  have  examined  the  quality  of  this  ingredient  to  some  extent.     It  is  that  out-  The  Semitic 
line  of  Monotheism  which  by  force  of  its  form  excludes  any  idea  of  adjustment  or  com-  inSJnatfonT  *** 
promise.    Hard  and  intolerant  it  subordinates  every  relation  of  life  to  one  dominant  ^^^  f aiie*^'^^'  ^^^* 
idea,  which  none  but  the  Jews  possess.    Every  thought  and  deed  they  render  subject  expectations, 
.to  law,  and,  to  what  is  held  even  more  sacred,  their  traditions. .  s     ,     ,     . 

This  Monism,  now  overrun  by  wild,  poisonous  creepers  upon  the  banks  of  the  Monotheistic  law 
Nile  and  the  Euphrates,  had  once  in  the  best  parts  of  the  Semites,  been  made  the  tradiif^^^** 
keepsake  of  a  family  for  a  period  of  six  hundred  years,  and  then  had  been  made  the         §  129',  200, 213. 
charter  of  the  peoples  grown  out  of  that  household.     As  a  nation  they  formed  the 
most  insignificant  branch  of  the  race;  but  that  in  which  Monotheism  was  preserved  Monotheism  preserved 
pure,  was  cultivated  and  protected  in  miraculous  ways  by  a  superhuman  arm.     The  ^iracurous^^ays. 
God  of  this  small  community,  with  its  almost  childlike  fear  and  faith,  was  the  God 
of  their  fathers,  the  God  of  revelation. 

To  Philo's  philosophy  this  revelation  afforded  the  criterion  according  to  which  a  Phiio's  compro- 
counterpoise  between  revelation  and  speculation  was  to  be  fixed.    With  this  as  his  J^vliatfon^and 
fundamental  principle  he  labored  to  find  points  of  similitude  in  Hellenic  thought  to  |^j*^*^^.^ . 
which  his  own  might  be  accommodated.    With  an  eye  to  Jewish  advantage  and  with  *  • 

national  ambition,  Philo  undertook  to  bring  about  a  compromise. 

Another  light  among-  the  Hellenised  Jews  in  Alexandria  was  Aristobul.  With  unscrupu- 
lous insolence  he  assigned  Jewish  ideas  to  Greek  poets,  and  with  unconcerned  ambiguity 
distorted  Jewish  truths.  He  was  the  forerunner  of  Philo,  showing  him  how  to  handle  the 
problem,  just  as  Philo  may  be  said  to  have  set  the  example  to  modern  rabbis  in  making 
gentile  philosophy  agree  with  rabbinical  doctrine. 

Tho  not  the  inventor.  Philo  was  the  manipulator  of  the  levelling  contrivance. 
He  endeavored  to  show,  that,  what  is  meant  by  the  Greek  term  of  "Logos",  was  to  be 
understood  as  "mind  personified",  and  was  identical  with  that  which,  in  the  Jewish 
sense  af  the  "word",  created  and  rules  the  world.  In  order  to  join  the  Greek  sense  to 
his  artificial  exegesis,  he  simply  twisted  Plato's  meaning  of  the  "eternal  ideas"  a 
little,  and  then  intertwined  them  with  the  emanations  from  the  deity  which  were 
supposed  to  spread  themselves  throughout  the  universe.  Taking  these  emanations 
into  play,  surely  pliable  enough  to  be  made  suitable  to  any  construction.  Philo  has 
those  forces  at  hand  which  he  needed  for  his  idiosyncracy.  So  nimbly  did  he  manipu- 
late his  device  that  the  potencies  ascribed  to  the  deity  under  gnostic  terms  were  interpretation  of  the 
managed  to  signify  divine  "thoughts  and  attributes"  as  well  as  "God's  servants,"  toTonstr'A^ed^^^^^^^ 
God's  ambassador,  or  the  "Angel of  His  countenance."  hI*nze,'kTeb1tein. 

.  WeNDLAND,  ÄRISTOB0L. 

Heinze,  who  made  it  a  specialty  to  investigate  the  origin  and  growth  of  the  Greek  idea 
of  the  "logos"  said:  "It  is  Philo  whose  whole  speculation  centered  in  these  very  "middle- 
beings."  Keferstein  came  to  the  same  conclusion.  Wendland,  in  1890  pointed  out  the  stoic 
streakings  which  Philo  made  use  of. 

The  emanated  forces  furnished  the  material  which  dexterous  Philo  needed  to  put  his  Tnd -ideas"  attributes 
logos  together— his  mediator.    He  harmonised  biblical  truth  with  everything  which  in  any  and  also  "  angels" 
way  may  be  twisted  into  use  for  building  the  bridge  between  the  natural  world  and  the  °*  ^°^' 
spiritual. 
16 


204 


INSUFFICIENCY  OF  THE  PLATO-PHILO-COMBINATION.       II  D.  Ch.  I.  §  101. 


Quotations  from 
Philo. 


"Logos  endiathetos" 
at  the  same  time 
"logos  prophorikos.'' 


Philo's  endeavor  to 
make  Judaism 
acceptable  to  everybody. 


Allegoric  interpretation 
of  the  high  priest's 
vestments. 


Judaism 
rendered  _ 
universalistic. 


Oriental  and 
Occidental 
postulates  of 
incarnation 
dovetailed  by 


Theoretical 
forecast  of  the 
Mediator. 


The  limit  of 
reason : 
it  can  only 
formulate  the 
demand  of  an 
incarnation. 

It  is  Philo's  merit  to 
have  theoretically 
formulated  the 
postulate. 


Discrepancies  of  Philo's 
and  Plato's  postulates. 


Plato's  impure 
matter  ill 
adapted  for 
being  the  vehicle 
of  Holiness 
personified. 


The  tension  not   • 
however  to  be  removed 
by  a  solvent  act. 


To  forestall  the  injunction  as  tho  prejudice  had  misrepresented  the  great  syncretist 
— for  history  can  not  rank  him  with  the  original  thinkers— the  floor  shall  be  ceded  to  him  as 
spokesman  of  his  age  and  generation.  The  logos  per  se,  the  "middle"  and  "metropolis"  of  the 
ideas,  incessantly  invokes  the  Unchangeable  for  the  protection  of  the  troubled  souls.  As  the 
Mediator  he  proclaims  to  men :  "I  stand  between  the  Lord  and  you.  I  am  not  created,  I  am 
as  God  is;  nor  generated  like  you  are,  but  the  mediator  between  the  extremes."  This  logos 
of  Philo  governs  all.  "For  like  a  shepherd  and  a  king  God  rules  and  leads  his  flock,  earth 
and  water,  air  and  fire,  according  to  righteousness.  All  that  lives  in  these  elements,  plants 
and  beasts,  what  is  mortal  and  what  is  divine,  the  organism  of  the  heavens,  the  courses  of  sun, 
moon  and  stars,  He  directs,  inasmuch  as  He  has  set  the  logos.  His  first  born  son  over  them. 
The  logos  has  charge  of  this  holy  throng  like  the  governor  receiving  his  commission  from 
the  king." 

This  logos  is  "endiathetos",  the  collective  term  of  all  the  ideas  indwelling  with  God,  as 
Greek  philosophy  expressed  it.  But  then  he  is  also  "logos  prophorikos"  the  "word"  as  Jewish 
theology  wants  to  have  it  understood,  going  forth  from  God  to  create  and  to  support  the  uni- 
verse. This  is  the  way  in  which  Philo  takes  in  and  arranges  the  whole  matter.  But  in  every 
phase  of  his  interpretation  and  construction  he  either  moves  away  from,  or  approaches 
nearer  to,  a  Mediator  of  the  world.  It  is  his  heart's  desire  to  demonstrate  the  relation  of  the 
whole  world  to  Judaism  and  its  sanctuary ;  to  widen  and  to  smooth,  and  to  render  acceptable 
to  everybody,  the  prerogatives  and  peculiarities  of  his  nation  and  his  religion. 

In  his  life  of  Moses  he  speaks  of  the  highpriest,  whose  pontifical  vestments  are 
made  allegories  of  the  whole  universe.  "The  long  coat  with  the  ornaments  around  its  hem  is 
emblematic  of  the  three  elements  air,  water,  and  earth,  out  of  and  within  which  all  mortal  and 
changeable  creatures  have  their  life."  The  outer  garb  of  the  high-priest  is  the  symbol  of 
Heaven,  In  this  apparel  the  priest  enters  the  Holy  of  Holies  to  bring  sacrifices;  "hence  when 
he  enters,  the  whole  universe,  which  he  carries  about  himself,  enters  with  him."  Thus  Judaism 
was  rendered  universalistic  by  Philo. 

§  101.  Contriving  to  bridge  the  chasm  from  above,  the  eastern  Aryan  form  of 
consciousness  elaborated  a  way  of  descent,  whilst  those  of  the  West  thought  it  more 
reasonable  to  reach  this  end  by  way  of  works  and  apotheoses,  through  an  ascendancy 
of  some  sort.  Now  both  of  these  endeavors  of  human  thought  were  rather  dove-tailed 
than  blended  by  Philo:  the  longing  desire  on  the  one  hand,  that  a  god  might  become 
man;  and  the  necessity,  on  the  other,  that  man  must  become  divine.  Both  were  taken 
by  Philo,  as  two  twigs  from  different,  stocks,  and  then  intertwined  into  his  theory  of  the 
logos.  As  the  keystone  of  the  arch,  rising  upon  the  center-frames  of  oriental  and 
occidental  anticipations,  Philo  introduces  the  mediator  as  standing  between  God  and 
the  world.    He  did  as  well  as  the  national  mind  could  accomplish  it. 

The  ancient  world  had  been  led  to  its  theoretical  attempts  to  overcome  the  strain 
between  the  opposite  views  seemingly  so  much  at  variance,  by,  let  us  say,  intuitive 
presentment,  and  by  reflection  upon  the  ultimate  principles  underlying  each  view 
respectively.  The  bridging  of  the  opposites  by  one  adventurous  span  was  brought  to 
the  climax  of  a  scientific  postulate.  And  therein  all  the  merits  of  Philo  consist  that 
he  explicitly  formulated  it. 

This  was  all  the  logic  of  which  natural  reason  is  capable;  further  no  Buddha,  no 
Plato,  no  Philo  could  get.  Such  earnest  search  of  the  mind  always  gleans  some  truth 
from  its  own  contents.  But  also  some  discrepancy  comes  in,  some  error  is  always 
detected,  when  an  equation  is  to  be  effected  between  different  results  of  the  specu- 
lating mind.    It  could  not  be  otherwise  between  Plato  and  Philo. 

To  Plato  the  body  appeared  an  encumbrance,  a  fetter  of  the  spirit.  Matter  as 
contemplated  by  Plato  is  impurity  itself.  How  could  Plato  from  such  premises  syl- 
logise conclusions  for  a  basis  of  his  system?  He  could  not  make  impure  matter  a  vehicle 
of  holiness  personified.  For  this  reason  Philo  could  not  establish  a  completely  locked 
synthesis.  He  failed  to  demonstrate  the  secret  of  the  combination.  Scientifically  he 
could  attribute  no  concrete  reality  to  the  conjectured  picture  of  his  "logos". 

Hence  the  tension  -was  not  overcome  nor  the  chasm  bridged  for  all  that.  The 
postulate  underlying  the  difficulty  could  neither  be  argued  away,  nor  was  it  intended 
tobe  solved  by  any  inteliectualism  or  any  theory,  because  such  is  not  the  logic  of  history. 
History  proceeds  by  way  of  facts.  The  long  existing  tension— straining  all  relations 
of  life,  {not  only  those  of  the  Aryans),  now  formulated  into  a  definite  acknowledg- 
ment, then  again  demonstrated  as  the  common  postulate  of  both  human  reason  and 
universal  history— was  now,  at  the  center  of  space  and  in  the  middle  of  time,  to  be  re- 
moved by  a  solvent  act. 


II.  D.  Ch.  I.  §  101.  PURPOSE  IN  man;  design  or  plan  above  him.  205 

But  again  we  are  brought  to  an  abrupt  stop.  Ere  we  proceed  any  further,  sus- 
picion is  to  be  headed  off,  that  we  were  trying  to  shirk  a  difficulty  which  has  been  a 
standing  conundrum  to  philosophers  of  history. 

The  question  requires  an  answer:  Is  the  logic  of  history  revealed  in  the  ap-  What  is  the 
portionment  of  various  tasks  to  the  diverse  nations  of  culture  according  to  their  dif-    "^^^  ^History  ? 
ferent  predispositions? 

Provided  it  be  granted  that  in  the  correlative  and  concurrent  procedures  of  mind  "^^^  p^*"  history, 
and  nature  from  which  history  ensues,  purpose  is  an  inherent  factor:— then  we  assert  §  6, 17, 18, 2i8. 
that  history  works  after  a  plan. 

In  the  natural  sphere  purpose  works  itself  out  spontaneously  in  the  routine  of  SS^and'eth^icii 
necessity.    In  the  sphere  of  the  secondary  good,  purpose  or  intent  manifests  a  relative  '^«^'«*°p'"*"»*- 
independence. 

In  organic  life  purpose  divides  the  work  into  a  variety  of  specially  adapted  mem-  General  purpose  o« 
bers,  which  are  definitely  appointed  to  work  together  for  the  realisation  of  the  gen-  ^^^"^^^ '"  '"*°* 
eral  purpose.  This  purpose,  governing  all  things  and  common  to  all,  lies  not  within 
them,  man  being  the  purpose  for  which  they  are  intended.    What  is  in  accord  with 
the  forensic  purpose  designed  within  the  organism,  is  the  plan  which  specifies  the 
purport  of  things.    A  purpose  of  their  own  natural  objects  have  none. 

On  the  part  of  personal  life  however,  the  purpose  is  prevented  from  working  in  a  in  all  natural  ufe 
general  way,  regardless  of  individuality.    In  the  world  of  history  the  realisation  of  Sn1son|!  But^thothe 
the  purpose  is  limited  to  the  constituents  of  the  realm  of  "essential  unity  and  ma-  puRPosE'of  thiir  own 
terial  diversity".    Here  the  purpose  itself,  but  not  tlie  design  or  general  destiny,  is  com-    *^ 
mitted  to  persons  and  events  themselves.    Each  possesses  the  dignity  of  being  not 
merely  for  the  purpose  of  something  else.    It  is  to  be  understood  that  in  tlie  sphere  of 
personal  life  plan  and  purpose  change  places.    The  purpose,  individualised  in  man,  must 
concur  and  agree  with  the  plan;  it  cannot  effect  its  end  regardless  of  the  plan,  and  in  personal  ufe 
the  plan  stands  objectively  outside.    And  as  we  call  the  plan  In  nature  design,  so  we  call  it  L^'pSd^rirperson 
destiny  in  history.    For,  in  history  a  higher,  the  sovereign  will  cooperates  in  order  to  Sf'f  burtKan 
stimulate  the  activity  of  the  subordinate  wills.    Hence  in  the  realm  of  history  the  de^gJTedTjIhe  ^ 
tasks  for  the  accomplishment  of  the  ultimate  general  purpose  or  destiny  are  pre-  ^"""«'«'^  ^'"• 
scribed  and  appointed  to  the  proper  participants.    They  carry  their  destiny  within  ^^J^^'pose^^  "^^''^  '^ 
themselves  only  in  so  far  as  they  are  members  of  an  organism,  either  personal,  na-  individualised 
tional,  or  universal.  as  a  task; 

The  thought  of  a  definite  purpose  is  imparted  to  the  world  of  personal  life  where  according  to  the 
it  becomes  individualised  as  a  thoughtful  will  in  action  for  the  benefit  of  humanity  of  working  out  the 
In  its  parts  and  as  a  whole;  it  is  a  purpose  to  be  accomplished  by  innumerable  inter-  *'*'"'"°''  destmy. 
acting  coefficients,  concomitant  agencies,  cooperative  organisms.     This  imparted 
thought  cannot  be  but  rational  and  practical.   From  its  effects  the  logical  conclusion 
is  to  be  drawn;  the  purpose  becomes  revealed  upon  which  we  do  well  to  reflect.    Em- 
piric data  we  reduce  to  premises;  the  given  facts  demonstrate  that  there  is  a  reason  premises  from  which 
present  in  them,  by  and  according  to  which  events  happen  and  history  is  guided  on  b^deductÄ  t?the*^ 
to  its  finality.       Thought  may  be  concealed,  and  individual  purpose  may  not  con-  pu7posi°a!n°d  JL^n  of 
form  itself  to  general  destiny  on  account  of  many  seeming  or  real  malformations,  or  i»»stery. 
by  fault  of  misconceptions,  or  by  limits  of  the  understanding.    Notwithstanding  this 
concealment  and  these  misconceptions  we  draw  practical  conclusions  from  the  prem- 
ises, just  as  we  adjust  ourselves  every  day  to  the  general  course  of  human  affairs, 
whereby  we  acknowledge  that  reason  conducts  them.    Man  cannot  cease  to  reflect 
upon  this  reason  in  history,  until  he  fully  comprehends,  that  is,  becomes  clearly  con- 
scious of,  the  purpose  in  his  own  behalf,  concerning  his  own  destiny. 

Hence  we,  too,  review  the  data  for  the  premises  from  which  we  endeavor  to  form  Review  of  the 
the  conclusion,  i.  e.  to  find— the  purpose  and  object  of  ancient  history  in  general.    We  empiric  induc- 

XXI         -Tx  ,  .         "      ^  -.^  ,.         ,.,  T»  XI  11       •   .         •     tive  data  in 

want  to  be  right  and  sure  in  our  way  of  interpreting  history.    If  the  syllogising  is  proof  of  the 
correct,  then  our  conclusion  ought  to  show  that  we  participate  in  the  knowledge  of  on"deducüve 
tlie  secret  of  the  purpose.    For  the  true  conclusion  easily  opens  the  combinations  and  syllogising, 
explains  the  truth  hidden  in  history  on  its  way  to  become— revelation. 

§  102.  From  the  domains  on  the  right  wing  of  the  Aryan  group,  from  the  ancient 
Orientals,  we  gleaned  that  thesis  concerning  world-consciousness,  according  to  which 
man  conceives  himself  as  an  individual,  dependent  being,  as  finite  in  contrast  to  the 
Infinite.    Man  conceives  the  finite  world  himself  included,  as  a  mere  apparition. 


206 


I.  Thesis: 
Ancient  Oriental 
world-consciousness 

idealistic ; 


self  abneifation  on  the 
ground  that  nature 
emanated  from  the 
deity. 


II.  Antithesis: 

Occidental 

world-consciousness 

realistic : 


Self  assertion. 


All  finite  entities 
personified. 


Idea  of  the  Infinite 
composed  of  personifi- 
cations of  nature. 


Equation  of  contrasts 


and  strains  a  historical 
necessity. 


The  theoretical 
conclusion. 


Combination  of  both 
antitheses  may  resemble 
the  key  spoken  of  in  §33. 


The  antitheses 
of  Oriental  and 
Occidental  forms 
of  consciousness 
definitely  stated. 


The  conclusion  is  the 
historical  postulate. 


IDEAL  DESTINY  TO  BLEND  WITH  EARTHLY  REALITY.  II.  D.  Ch.  I.  §  102. 

of  the  Infinite.  Compared  with  the  Infinite  the  finite  stands  in  the  same  rela- 
tion to  it,  as  a  special  phenomenon  is  related  to  nature  in  general.  This  notion  of  the 
finite  which  renders  all  that  exists  in  reality  into  abstractions,  and  is  accompanied 
and  influenced  by  the  notion  that  creation  had  emanated  from  God,— describes  man 
as  a  finite,  modified  being,  personified  for  a  transient  period  of  passive  suffering,  and 
relates  him  to  the  infinite  exactly  as  a  drop  of  water  is  related  to  the  ocean.  Thus 
the  finite  being  is  nothing  in  itself;  it  is  something  so  far  only,  as  it  is  a  particle  of 
an  indefinite  generalness. 

From  the  fields  of  the  West  we  gleaned  the  Occidental  antithesis.  Here  the  whole 
method  of  reasoning  is  less  contemplative  and  produces  a  widely  contrasting  reflec- 
tion of  the  world  in  the  mind.  Here  the  finite  stands  as  a  concrete  reality;  indepen- 
dently it  steps  forth,  determined  to  act  as  a  determining  agency.  Through  art,, 
science  and  voluntary  formations  of  society  and  of  states,  mind  despite  its  finiteness 
manifests  itself  in  such  a  resolute  persistency  as  that  the  infinite  seems  to  exist  in  a 
state  of  comparative  dependency,  as  something  almost  irrelevant.  According  to  that 
realistic  world-consciousness  nature  has  evolved  itself  in  a  multiplicity  of  finite  en- 
tities. These  entities  are  objectivised  as  personalities.  These  finite  personifications 
detach  themselves  from  the  infinite  and  even  depose  the  same  to  such  a  relation  to 
themselves  as  to  make  it  appear  that  its  recognition  depended  upon  their  good  humor. 
The  infinite  is  composed  of  the  objectivications  derived  from  personified  nature.  In  the 
Orient  the  infinite  embraces  the  finite  as  a  part  of  itself.  Here  in  the  Occident  the 
finite,  making  the  infinite  a  means  for  its  own  practical  ends,  conceives  the  infinite 
as  part  of  itself.  Outside  of  that  which  is  divine  in  man  the  Gods  are  nothing.  No 
wonder  that  the  nations  could  not  come  to  an  understanding  under  the  strain  be- 
tween such  a  thesis  and  its  antithesis. 

The  process  of  thought  could  not  stop  there.  Each  party  developed  one  side  of 
the  synthesis,  but  the  tension  remained  between  the  natural  and  the  spiritual  world 
up  to  this  day,  wherever  onesidedness  closed  itself  against  finding  the  synthesis.  The 
strain  is  as  real  and  affects  every-day  life  as  incisively  as  the  polarity  between 
Heaven  and  earth.  It  manifests  itself  in  the  most  sensitive  parts  of  the  human  being. 
Were  it  not  so,  nobody  would  feel  obliged  to  concern  himself  about  the  problems. 
Ethical  and  intellectual  activity  would  be  folly.  Thesis  and  antithesis  were  so  co- 
gently and  succinctly  fixed,  were  each  sticking  fast,  unable  to  retract  or  advance, 
whilst  thought  in  the  mean  time  could  not  rest  unless  the  synthesis  were  found. 

Whoever  knows  a  little  of  the  history  and  of  the  excitement  of  philosophical  syncret- 
ism since  Plato,  and  then  adds  the  searcli  after  truth,  peace  and  solace  by  the  New-Platonics, 
will  understand  how  all  political  casualties  and  exigencies  of  those  times  hinged  upon  the 
cardinal  points  under  discussion. 

Whoever  is  able  to  comprehend  this  will  agree  with  our  statement  that  never  did  people 
in  general  take  such  a  feverish  interest  in  the  solution  of  the  problem  in  question,  The 
future  was  felt  to  depend  upon  the  result  of  the  search  after  the  synthesis.  All  the  labor  of 
that  agitated  age  with  its  many  gropings  along  dark  paths  of  science  toiled  and  moiled  about 
this  problem  as  around  a  hidden  secret.  So  close  an  approach  to  the  desired  synthesis  from 
all  sides  certainly  gives  to  the  finding  of  it  the  significance  of  a  historical  necessity.  If  we 
would  take  the  antithetical  postulates  as  matters  of  logical  reasoning,  then  all  that  would  be 
required  would  be  a  theoretical  solution.  A  formula  like  that  of  Philo  might  combine  the 
antitheses  into  such  a  conclusion  as  would  resemble  the  key  of  which  we  spoke,  disclosing  all 
the  contents  hidden  in  thö  locked  synthesis.  It  would  be  the  intelligible  and  communicable 
expression  which  answers  all  wants,  all  objections ;  which  gives  consistent  explanation  of  the 
seeming  contradictions ;  which  proves  or  disproves  all  those  hypotheses  which,  pending  the 
solution,  were  utilised  in  the  dilemma. 

The  antitheses,— as  we  take  them  after  Philo's  futile  attempt,  to  which  the  data 
of  cultural  life  were  practically  reduced,  and  which  now  demand  equation,— state 
the  different  cognitions  of  the  interrelations  between  the  finite  and  the  infinite  for: 
of  existence  and  their  contents.    These  opposites  are  to  be  conciliated  and  brought 
a  unity  in  such  a  manner  that  the  truth  in  either  premise  receives  due  recognitioi 
that  neither  is  prejudiced  and  neither  magnified  at  the  expense  of  the  other. 

And  this  formula  could  only  be  the  sentence:  Somehow  the  infinites  must  be  a 
the  finite  and  vice  versa.    This  conclusion  is  incontrovertible.    But  it  does  not  harm- 
onise the  contrasts.    It  is  simply  a  conclusion  stated  in  the  shape  of  a  new  postulate. 

Considering  the  mode  of  harmonising  the  antitheses,  the  answer,  that  a  mere 
abstract  identification  of  the  infinite  with  the  finite  form  of  existence  might  essen- 
tially realise  itself  by  entering  into  the  multiplicity  of  finite  persons,  is  after  the 
failures  of  precedent  experiments  also  out  of  the  question. 


ate    j 


H.  D.  CH.  I.  §  103.  SYNTHESIS  NOT  A  LOGOS  -  THEORY  BUT  A  PERSON.  207 

David  Strauss  intimated  that  "the  idea  loves  to  outpour  itself  into  the  manifold  of  the  Mode,  in  which  alone 
genus  and  thus  to  disclose  itself  to  it".    This  "winged  word"  which  Strauss  offered  is  vir-         ^  36^  77  94  100, 105. 
tually  but  a  substitute  of  another  postulate  in  lieu  of  our  conclusion  just  stated,  and  is  ob-   **  *° ''«  realised. 
viously  rather  behind  time.     Buddhism  would  remind  us  that  this  solution  had  been  tried  Abstract  identification 
without  avail  in  its  alleged  incarnations,  or  rather  impostures  and  delusions.     In  India  the  «*  •*Jl*^'^**,d'^ fi^h  *u' 
Infinite  had  been  dragged  down  to  the  finite,  into  the  multitude  of  phenomena.    In  Italy  the  behind  the  preambles. 
finite  had  been  exalted  to  the  infinite  through  a  multplicity  of  phenomena.     The  Greeks  and  ,      v    •    ^^ 

Romans  would  marvel  at  our  ignoring  their  gods  of  personified  nature  and  their  apotheosised  too  late,  since  that 
emperor-gods.     In  all  these  attempts  thought  sunk  down  into  the  subnatural,  we  might  al-  bee"n'exDerfmented°on 
most  say,  exhausted  by  the  random  experiments  to  substantiate  the  anticipated  appearance  the  line  Benares-Rome. 
of  God  in  the  world.     It  is  not  necessary  that  such  a  universal  fainting  spell  should  repeat 
itself  in  the  "idea"  emptying  itself  into  generalness. 

§  103.    The  correct  logical  form  of  the  synthesis  must  be  found  in  a  fact  as  real  j.     .      f  ^-  ^o 
as  the  phenomenal  facts  demanding  it— because  the  logic  of  history  works  that  demands  a  *^    '^ 
way.     And  the  fact  must  be  the   consummation  of   a  union  between   the   in-  ^Sems— ***^ 
finite  and  the  finite  in  personal  unification.     It  must  come  about  in   a  synthesis  Zde? of "houSu  and 
as  possible  and  as  real  as,  and  analogous  to,  the  union  of   the  soul  with  the  wurtheflnft^eachas 
spirit  in  human  nature.    The  synthesis  must  come  forth  as  a  historical  act  in  the  through  a  fact 
concrete  form  of  a  real  person.    That  person  will  be  actually  "the  Mediator"  between  a  person, 
the  two  modes  of  human  consciousness  as  well  as  between  both  the  infinite,  absolute 
and  personal  Being  on  one  side,  and  the  realm  of  finite  but  real  entities  on  the  other, 
each  to  continue  its  existence  as  a  oneness  in  itself,  neither  neutralising  or  sublima- 
ting the  other. 

At  this  very  stage  of  maturity  the  thought  of  the  old  world  had  arrived.  It  had 
penetrated  into  the  problem  of  unification  between  God  and  the  world  far  enough  to 
come  to  the  conclusion  that  mankind  must  look  for  a  mediator  to  accomplish  it  in 
person. 

Plato's  synthesis  had  demonstrated  not  only  the  individual  yearning  and  destiny,  Necessity  of  the 
which  made  the  universal  effect  of  the  union  necessary  but  also  at  the  same  time  the  pers''onannSrnatio*n*' 
consistency  of  the  unification  with  the  unity  of  humanity  and  the  sighing  of  the  crea-  demonstrated  by  plato. 
ture. 

Philo*s  compromise  formulated  the  empirical  postulates  into  the  logical  conclusion. 
His  theoretical  combination  of  the  synthesis  was,  on  the  whole,  correct.    It  remains 
only  to  be  shown  that  in  Plato's  and  Philo's  combined  postulates  another  was  implied» 
altho  quite  obscure  as  yet,  which  timidly  demands  the  perfect  union  of  God  with  ^^^^.^  ^^^  ^^.^^,^ 
humanity  in  one  real  man.    The  one  totality  of  the  finite,  in  juxtaposition  to  the  postulates  include  an 

,     ~     .  ,  7  »  MT  other  postulates. 

infinite  as  the  other  oneness,  had  not  been  held  distinctly  apart,  so  as  to  maintain 

the  integrity  of  each.    Nevertheless,  it  had  inadvertently    been  presumed,  it  was 

Implied  in  the  postulated  premises,  that  the  unification  of  God  with  the  universe  was 

to  be  wrought  by  a  person.    Thus  in  theory  even  the  individuality  of  the  Logos  and  ^l^^^^äli^  5%^, 

the  universality  of  his  function  had  been  provided  for.  Sr^sam^^'of  his 

But   whilst   the  philosophers  composed   the   theoretical  compromise,  another  function  was  thinkable. 
weighty  momentum  had  entirely  escaped  the  attention  of  these  searchers  in  their 
eagerness  to  find  the  answer  which  head  and  heart  demanded.    The  possibility  had 
not  been  thought  of  nor  accounted  for:  how  this  Mediator  could  appear  in  the  reality  ^j^^^^i^;,,  j^^^^^j 
of  visible  and  definite  substance,  in  this  impure  matter.    This  is  not  at  all  irrelevant  overlooked  the  difflcnit» 

'  ^  of  uniting  the  Infinite 

in  the  matter  of  relieving  and  abolishing  the  strain.    It  was  just  this  riddle  which  with  impure  matter.  ^^^ 

a  little  later  became  a  stumbling-block  to  the  gnostics.    How  real  human  appearance 

of  God  in  equally  real  human  but  not  docetic  existence  is  possible,  becomes  a  new 

and  inevadable  problem.    All  speculating  and  compromising  is  in  vain,  after  all,  if  ^^^^  ^^  ^^^  entrance  o« 

logic  overlooks  this  condition  of  true  incarnation.  For,  whatever  is,  must  not  remain  »^e  Logos  into  the 

'  world  and  into  history. 

being  in  the  general,  abstract  sense.    In  order  to  be  something,  it  must  become  a  real 

,.   .  mi  .  1  J,  •  .«  I  ^1  J.-,   •  stumbling-block 

something.    This  must  be  more  so  the  case  in  personal  life,  where  the  something  of  gnosticism. 

must  become  somebody.    Personal  being  is  just  as  much  above  being  in  general  as 

fact  stands  above  fiction.    The  Logos  can  not  be  conceived  as  the  real  unity  of  the  con. 

trasting  forms  of  consciousness  in  which  the  truths  of  transcendency  and  immanency  of  the 

deity  are  mirrored,  UNLESS  THE  LOGOS  BECOMES  A  HISTORICAL  FACT,  A  PERSON.    In  appearance  of 

this  manner  alone  the  Logos  proves  to  be  the  completion  of  the  synthesis  of  idealism,  God  in  person, 

.,...  or  r  V  ^  »jjj  j.gj^j  j^mjjan  form  or 

individuality   and   universalism.    Nothing  short  of  that   unification  will  pacify  existence. 
either  reason  or  faith.    Here  lies  the  truth  for  which  both  Monism  and  Dualism  contend  in 
their  vociferous  debatings. 


208  DEATH  CONDITIONS  THE  UNIFICATION  OF  THE  INFINITE  WITH  FINITENESS.        11.  D.  CH.  II.  §  104. 


The  truth  for  which 
both  Monism  and 
Dualism  contend — 

in  which  true 
monism  is 
realised. 


Refutation  of  modem 
attempts  of  solving  the 
problem  in  worse  than 
ancient  style. 


Not  one  of  the  seeming  contradictions  in  the  isms  mentioned,  from  which  the  conflicts 
originated,  and  which  ever  excited  the  processes  of  thinking  from  two  different  aspects,  can 
ever  be  solved  or  decided  by  the  evolution  theory.  Neither  progress  of  thought  nor  spread  of 
mental  culture,  nor  any  theory,  nor  any  f  orm  of  intellectualism  (for  instance  indoctrination  of 
dogmas,  idealisation  of  the  "Christ- idea,"  etc.),  can  reconcile  the  heterogeneity  of  the  an- 
titheses. The  true  element  contained  in  each  of  these  isms  can  alone  be  accomplished 
through  the  real  incarnation  by  force  of  the  fact.  The  renewed  efforts  in  these  modern  timea 
to  abstract  from  the  "facf'ln  extolling  the  ''idea"  in  a  worse  than  ancient  style  can  not  screen 
itself  behind  Philo.  Reason,  imparted  to  history  and  underlying  the  course  of  its  develop- 
ment, leads  man  up  to  the  "LOGOS."  That  much  reason  can  do— if  guided  by  the  Logic  of 
History,  but  no  more. 


CH,  II.    INTERMEDIATION  POSTULATED  PHYSICALLY.    THE  SACRIFICE. 


Import  of  facts  more 
formidable  than  that 
of  thoughts. 


The  Infinite  to  take  the 
initiative  in  assuming 
finite  forms  of  existence ; 


certain  time  and 
a  proper  locality. 

Mode  of  the  Infinite  in 
entering  nature  and 
history. 


The  place 


historic  moment 


to  be  prepared  for,  and 
the  appreciation  of, 

the  advent. 


Sooial  miseries. 


Ünavailing  deviceü  on 
ttie  score  of  reforms. 


§  104.  A  deed  proves  more  than  a  theory;  in  its  influence  fact  goes  further  than 
thought.  An  act  continues  to  call  forth  thought,  so  that  it  may  be  thought  over  and. 
over  again.  An  act  leads  from  appearances  into  the  essence  of  things;  it  sets  per- 
sons to  reflect  thereupon.  Facts  return  to  persons,  because  they  belong  to  them. 

If  the  apparent  dilemma  of  logic  with  regard  to  our  present  life  and  to  a  better, 
higherlife— if  the  conflict  concerning  the  conceptions  "finite"  and  infinite,  if  the  con- 
trariety between  the  absolute  and  the  conditioned,  is  ever  to  be  solved  and  pacified 
indeed,— then  the  infinite  had  to  take  the  initiative  in  realising  the  union  and  concil- 
iation. It  had  to  enter  into  the  finite  (eingehen.)  But  it  could  not  suffer  to  become 
absorbed  by  it  (darin  aufgehen);  audit  can  not  become  inconsistent  to  itself  (von 
sich  abgehen).  The  Infinite  could  enter  only  in  such  a  manner,  as  to  take  the  finite 
upon  and  into  Himself,  to  appropriate  and  assimilate  it  to  Himself  as  His  own. 

Moreover,  the  Infinite  had  to  appear  not  only  somehow,  but  also  somewhere.  The 
Infinite  would  be  expected  to  appear,  where,  after  the  preparatory  concentration  of 
the  two  ideas,  the  most  channels,  ways,  and  means  possible  were  at  hand  for  the  pro- 
gressive course  of  the  finite  to  become  affianced  to  the  Infinite.  Such  a  place,  afford- 
ing the  best  facilities  for  spreading  the  assimilating  and  at  the  same  time  isolating 
influence,  must  be  located  where  the  means  of  communication  offered  the  proper 
opportunities  not  only  concerning  commercial  and  political,  but  also  literary,  and 
ethical  matters.  For,  the  historical  current  ever  runs  through  human  coefficients  or 
agencies;  and  we  have  seen  why,  naturally  and  ethically,  this  course  alone  could  be 
taken. 

Through  the  many  expediencies  and  concomitant  factors,  by  pre-arranged  route» 
the  news  of  the  fact,  the  "word"  as  uttered  into  this  world,  could  make  itself  univer- 
sally understood  by  being  communicated  in  appropriate  manner. 

After  the  word  was  taken  to  heart  and  appropriated  by  mindful  persons,  the 
glad  tidings  could  be  disseminated  in  every  respect  and  in  every  direction.  In  order 
that  the  spreading  of  the  kindred  fire,  purifying,  enlightening,  and  warming  up 
humanity  in  general,  be  not  frightening  but  glad  tidings,  the  Infinite  would 
appear  at  that  historic  moment,  when  all  laboring  and  thinking  was  exposed  in  it» 
incompetency,  baseness  and  bankruptcy  to  such  a  degree,  that  it  could  not  be  denied 
or  palliated.  The  Infinite  One,  by  virtue  of  His  nature,  neither  could  nor  would 
force  Himself  upon  the  world.  The  world  needed  first  to  feel  the  necessity,  so  as  to 
appreciate  the  "Advent." 

Of  the  degeneracy  of  cults  and  culture  we  are  convinced  from  what  we  have  noticed.  So 
was  statesmanship  at  its  wits  end.  All  relations  of  life  shared  in  the  total  eclipse.  The  nations 
were  trodden  down ;  their  ancient  institutions,  old  and  only  strongholds  of  existence  which 
their  symbols  and  customs  were,  had  lost  their  significance.  Who  would  have  ambition 
enough  left  to  care  for  the  public  welfare?  The  spirit  of  freedom  and  patriotism  had  given 
way  to  disgust  and  rascality.  The  peoples  under  the  feet  of  the  ruling  power  and  the  fists  of 
not  less  tyranical  rioters,  found  protection  neither  in  law  nor  in  arms.  "The  knights  had 
turned  bankers,  the  optimates  were  hanging  around  the  exchange  and  the  games.  The 
farmer  was  ruined  by  slavery,  land-monopolies,  and  mortgages." 

The  more  all  sorts  of  reform  had  been  experimented  upon;  the  oftener  the  hopes  for  a 
revival  of  public-mindedness  and  of  interest  in  public  affairs,  the  hopes  for  help  from  ballot 
and  legislation  had  been  disappointed— the  more  had  attempts  at  self  salvation  complicated 
matters  for  the  worse. 

When  the  decay  of  the  state  began  to  phosphoresce,  even  the  wierd  flickering  of  crazy 
cults,  spreading  over  the  whole  empire  and  pretending  to  bring  the  panacea  for  all  sores,  soon 
lost  its  attractiveness.     People  began  to  be  as  listless  as  they  had  before  been  superstitious. 


n  D.  CH.  II.  §  105.  THE  NATIVITY.  •  209» 

Men  were  not  so  credulous  any  longer  as  to  be  duped  by  any   soothsayer,  and  to  be  mocked  in 

their  dismay.    From  under  the  thin  cover  of  gloss  and  splendor  the  running  sores  of  pollution 

trickled  down  corruption,  from  every  organ  of  the  gigantic  body  politic  now  in  full  state  of  gelf salvation 

decomposition.     The  surface  of  public  life  showed  stagnation,  satiety,  and  vulgarity.     The  render  matters 

scum  of  brutal  pugilists  and  pugnacious  dialecticians  or  sneaking  sycophants  was  on  top,  as  ^  orse, 

the  saying  is. 

The  Roman  crucible  had  become  a  witch's  kettle,  in  which  delapidated  fragments  of 
recent  glory  and  dominion,  of  booties  and  triumphs  swam  around,  that  is,  changed  hands  at 
random, and  evaporated  deadly  gases.  The  nations  and  their  cultures  and  treasures  were  now 
rapidly  eaten  up  inwardly  and  outwardly  by  the  very  cultures  which  once  had  attracted  them. 
And  it  is  the  poor  effigy  and  cheap  copy  of  that  very  culture  which  is  even  now  bragged  up  so 
much  under  the  caption  "classic  culture."    All  attempts  at  affecting  reforms  through  finances  The  delusion  of 
and  magic  art  had  been  made,  all  means  had  been  applied  and  were  used  up.     The  state  itself »  the  state  being 
so  recently  conceived  as  the  Supreme  Good,  the  last  delusion  tried  in  cementing  the  leaking  ^®  H^^^^f  ™^ 
basin,  was  fast  becoming  an  impossibility.  vanished.    §  42  78, 

The  ancient  world  at  the  acme  of  the  pride  which  it  took  in  culture  suddenly  suc- 
cumbed from— overexertion?    One  may  as  well  speak  it  right  out,  that  it  was  from 
subtilised  refinement.    The  higher  classes,  the  money-aristocracy,  worst  of  aristoc-  Ancient  culture 
racies,  would  not  be  reminded  of  the  misery;  they  would  not  step  down  to  dirty  their  over"r?finement! 
feet  by  getting  into  contact  with  the  lowly  people,  tho  it  was  about  Christmas  time. 
The  Mediator  must  appear.    Many,  then  called  "atheists"  because  they  had  dropped 
self-made  gods,  said  so  themselves.    But  where?    Men  like  Philo  were  scarce;  few 
were  so  fortunate  as  to  possess  wealth  and  leisure  without  feeling  the  loneliness 
incumbent  on  idealistic  minds.    Whilst  Philo  was  on  his  chair  in  the  hall  between 
the  Serapeion  and  the  temple  of  Leontopolis,  lecturing  upon  the  Mediator  to  eager 
crowds  of  students,  talking  about  the  "first-born,"  the  "Angel  of  the  Lord,"  and  of 
the  "Word  of  God,"— that,  on  which  his  mind  was  fixed  in  sincere  concentration,  that  The  nativity, 
became  in  his  native  land  close  by— a  fact. 

§  105.  Over  there  in  Philo's  country  the  great  "advent"  had  been  announced 
many  times  and  ever  more  pointedly  during  the  last  thousand  years  through  a  series 
of  prophets,  a  series  which  had  reached  down  to  four  hundred  years  ago.  Is  your 
chronology  correct  there,  Philo?  your  idea,  then,  is  nothing  new? 

The  prophets  cannot  be  interpreted  from  incidents  of,  let  us  say,  mere  secular  The  singular  ordinance 
history.    In  its  rise  and  long  continuance  prophecy  is  a  miracle  as  well  as  a  fact.    Its  prophecy, 
uniqueness  ought  to  be  suflScient  evidence  that  it  is  ordained  from  above.    Toward  a  miracie  as  weii  as 
the  lower  sphere  it  exercises,  in  its  criticism,  an  authority  which  stands  unequalled.  »«*  interpretabie 
Its  period  of  prime  falls  in  the  Asiatic  hexameron  of  spiritual  re-creation,  yet  it  historic 
seems  to  work  rather  destructively.    It  renders  itself  unpopular,  rather  than  compro-  *"*®rences. 
mise  with  error  or  evade  the  displeasure  of  the  vulgar.    In  matters  of  ethico-relig- 
ious  concern  the  prophets  punished  regardless  of  fear  or  favor;  and  they  used  very 
solacing  and  encouraging  language,  too.    With  reference  to  intelligence  they  split 
into  splinters  one  cosmogony  after  another,  no  matter  how  ancient  and  how  proud  of 
them  the  nations  severally  were,  without  forbearance. 

Here  in  close  quarters,  lying  prostrate  under  oppression  most  of  the  time,  the  peo-  history  of  the 
pie  had  been  prepared  for  the  appearance  of  the  Mediator  through  a  history  of  vicis-  chosen  people: 
situdes  without  a  parallel.  Evidently  this  history  had  been  devised  for  the  purpose  of  typlcaffor'every 
being  typical,  and  of  lasting  import  to  all  other  nations.  Ijnder"pressu7e. 

Here  the  meaning  of  the  guidance  by  a  higher  hand  was  made  demonstrable  even  to      §  9,  lo,  13,117,210, 223. 
blinded  minds.    Here,  in  the  heart  of  every  one,  the  sufferings  of  all  humanity  had  been  ex- 
perienced and  sympathy  came  to  its  right.    Here  in  full  view  of  all  the  world  that  tragedy  was 
to  be  enacted  which  a  line  of  prophets  had  predicted  long  ago ;  for  600  years  is  a  long  period 
even  for  universal  history. 

With  the  tragedy  was  given,  wheresoever  referred  to  by  the  prophets,  a  perspective  view 
of  a  final  parousia  and  of  the  transfiguration  of  the  universe  into  the  state  of  glory. 

Henceforth  there  is  no  antithesis  to  this  locked  synthesis— for  no  opposite  is  left 
unsolved  in  this  awfully  "finished"  conclusion  neutralising  all  tension  and  breaking 
all  chains  of  bondage.    All  nations  witnessing  the  event  are  addressed  as  partici-  unity  of  the  human 
pants,  all  being  involved  therein  by  reason  of    humanity  as  outlined  in  the  "Table of  nations*^***  '* " §  ns. 
Nations"  put  on  record  and  published  nowhere  else  but  in  this  place. 

All  are  called  to  witness  the  appalling  scene  which  centers  in  the  sacrificial  act; 
all  are  invited  to  ponder  over  the  exhibit  of  the  contrasts:  not  merely  to  look  at,  but 
to  realise  the  most  infernal  cruelty  manifesting  itself  beside  the  consummation  of 
the  adorable  and  profound  love— a  love  unheard  of  before,  and  embracing  all— once 
and  forever! 


210 


THE  ATONING  DEATH:   COSMICALLY  CONSIDERED.       II.  D.  Ch.  II.  §  106. 


The  sacrifice  in 
view  of  the 
universe, 


as  the  completion  of 
the  "Synthesis,"  and 

S  101,  102, 

the  solution  of 
all  problems ; 


of  everlasting 
significance. 


Parousia  and 
judg^ment 
accordiiig  to  the 
terms  stipulated 
by  the  sacrifice. 

Zenda-Vksta, 
Setfabth.  §  98, 


Voices  from  paganism 
in  proof  of  salvation 
not  necessary  as  to 
their  apologetical 
force. 


"Infinitesimal"  point; 
its  bearing  upon  the 
cosmos.  §  9,  37. 


Truly  human 
personality  as 
the  organ  of  the 
Infinite  in 
finiteness. 


Necessity  of  the 
Redeemer's 
deat^.  §  g 


Wailings  of  woe  and 
anguish  reverberating 
through  all  nations: 

caused  by  death.    R40,41. 


On  the  strength  of  this  fact  each  has  his  date  appointed,  when  he  or  she  is  to  be 
brought  to  trial  or  to  terms  for  their  part  in  perpetrating  deeds  which  wound  this 
love.  Those  acquitted  shall  be  called  up  by  their  new  names,  henceforth  to  partake 
also  of  the  great  commemoration  of  the  sacrifice  and  feast  of  communion.  All  of  this 
is  to  continue  to  the  end  of  the  world,  in  the  order  as  the  veilings  are  drawn  aside 
and  the  hulls  drop  down.  All  shall  become  fully  aware  of  the  fact,  not  in  reason  and  emo- 
tion alone,  but  in  both  with  faith  added,  that  here  and  now  their  own  case  is  brought 
up  in  order  to  be  decided  upon.  For  the  actual  crisis  of  each  member  of  the  human 
family  is  implied  in  yonder  mode  of  solution. 

At  times  there  were  voices  heard  coming  out  of  the  nations,  which  uttered  divinations 
of  this  appearance  of  the  Infinite,  and  of  some  of  the  proceedings  connected  therewith. 
"Zendavesta  already  has  it"'— says  SeyfParth  in  his  studies  of  the  Turin-papyrus, — "that  the 
son  of  the  pure  virgin  once  would  hold  judgment." 

We  waive  the  testimony  of  the  voices  of  these  people.  In  the  face  of  the  great  fact  it  is  ir- 
relevant whether  the  "Sibylline  oracles"  and  some  Roman  classics  are  reliable  or  worthless  as 
witnesses.  We  deem  it  unnecessary,  as  you  will  have  noticed,  to  adduce  those  intimations  in 
regard  to  the  Mediator,  as  ingraven  in  mythology,  in  traditions  and  documents,  sprinkled 
over  the  whole  globe.  They  lie  around  far  and  near  where  from  their  wide  periphery  the  radii 
all  point  to  the  spot  where  we  stand.  Unless  the  rays  of  light  fall  upon  these  radii  from  the 
center,  they  are  unintelligible  and  may  be  construed  to  suit  any  line  of  argument.  In  making 
judicious  use  of  the  "voices  of  the  people"  properly  understood  and  applied  inappropriate 
manner,  some  sages  skilled  in  apologetics  have  often  succeeded.  Of tener  some  others,  deficient 
in  critical  ability,  have  not.  We  on  our  part  are  rather  loath  to  "apologise"  for  our  belief 
in  the  facts,  and  for  our  clinging  to  the  cross. 

The  Mediator  of  all  is  born  into  this  cosmos.  The  infinite  divine  being,  who 
embraces  the  entire  universe,  enters  into  this  world  of  finiteness  at  a  certain  point; 
at  an  "infinitesimal"  point,  even,  bearing  the  marks  of  Paternal  and  maternal  descent. 
He  blends  and  completely  unites  His  nature  with  the  nature  of  man,  thus  becoming 
"the"  man  Himself.  We  see  the  Infinite  and  the  finite  united  in  One.  Finite  human 
nature  is  adopted  by  the  Infinite  (not  indefinite)  nature  of  God;  it  is  pervaded  and 
permeated  by  the  divine  nature,  and  elevated  into  the  beautiful  purity  which  had 
been  its  original  form  as  the  "image"  of  the  Father,  and  as  the  prototype  of  man 
before  the  beginning. 

The  finite  part  of  this  new  personality  reaches  this  destiny  of  man  in  daily  self- 
denial  and  selfconsecration.  And  the  destiny  of  man  is  tliis,  that  the  human  personality 
in  its  entirety  shall  voluntarily  become  the  organ  of  the  Infinite  without  compulsion. 

So  the  Mediator,  the  Christ,  teaches  by  word  and  example. 

He,  in  whom  humanity  as  an  organic  unit  recognises  its  head,  speaking,  acting, 
and  suffering  reveals  the  will  of  Him  who  sent  Him  in  uniting  His  consciousness  and 
will.  His  head  and  heart  and  soul  and  body  with  Him,  in  childlike  faith  and  conse- 
cration, tho  with  perfect  manliness. 

Suffering,  too.— For  this  Mediator  stood  upon  this  material  planet  in  the  realm 
of  the  visible,  palpable  cosmos,  bearing  its  substance  as  His  body.  Hence  He  is  Medi- 
ator even  in  regard  to  the  universe,  and  because  of  that— He  must  die. 

To  assume  our  body  He  inanitiated  deity,  that  is,limited  His  mode  of  being,  by  sub- 
mitting to  the  heavy  massiveness  and  crudeness  of  terrestrial  conditions.  The  mass  of  /? 
the  macrocosm  from  which  our  corporeal  body  is  taken  He  substantially  and  formally 
appropriated  and  assimilated  to  Himself  when  essentially  he  united  Himself  with  our 
finite  nature.  He  did  this  in  order  to  lead  that  earthly  form  of  subsistence  which  is 
doomed  to  resolve  or  perish— as  we  call  the  disengagement  or  transition  of  elements, 
into  new  relations  with  and  through  Himself  up  again  to  the  spiritual,  eternal  form 
of  existence.    And  because  the  Mediator  unreservedly  consented  to  this.  He  must  die. 

Because  He  is  agreed  to  deliver  and  to  rescue  humanity,  ethically,  by  all  means, 
He  must  and  will  die. 

§  106.  There  goes  about  among  the  nations  a  dismal  moan,  even  through  the 
most  hilarious  of  them. 

The  mirthful  vineyards  of  Hellas  re-echoed  the  wailing  for  Linos.  Raised  among 
shepherds,  the  divine  youth  had  been  torn  up  by  dogs;  others  sing  how  his  beauty  had 
wilted  like  the  delight  of  the  spring  season  under  the  torrid  rays  of  the  summer  sun; 


\ 


n  D.  CH.  II.  §  106.  ATONEMENT  THE  ETHICAL  NECESSITY.  211 

others  deplore  him,  because  Heracles  had  slain  him  with  the  cithara, when  he  desired 
to  be  taught  music.  The  plaintive  elegies  of  the  Ionian  lyrics  reverberated  from 
Syria  through  all  nations,  over  the  centuries,  over  fields  of  battle  and  among  ruins. 
The  melancholy  chords  always  bemoan  an  only  son,  singled  out  from  among  the  liv- 
ing and  snatched  away  in  the  prime  of  life  by  a  horrible  death. 

What  causes  these  woeful  sounds  to  haunt  the  solitudes  of  all  nations? 

Whether  Phrygian  corybants  accompany  the  lamentations  with  wild  bugle- 
blasts,  or  the  soft  tones  of  the  flutes  played  by  women  with  dishevelled  hair,  weeping 
for  Attys— the  outcries  of  agony  from  many  voices,  the  self  tortures,  and  the  sacrifices: 
all  arise  on  account  of  death.  They  arise  from  an  anguish  which  is  half  conscious  of 
the  mysterious  relations  between  innocence  and  guilt,  sin  and  death. 

Hence  we  can  no  longer  defer  the  investigation  concerning  the  cause  of  innate  ^^Jf/\^°®„^t^J* 
anxiety.    The  exclamations  of  anguish  ever  crying  to  Heaven  demand    satisfactory  paragr. «,  n. 
explanation. 

WiU  the  reader  please  to  extend  the  lines  of  thought  thus  indicated  back  to  their  ter- 
minal points  where  they  outline  a  certain  figure?  For,  what  in  the  former  part  of  our 
expository  course  had  to  be  postponed,  is  now  to  be  taken  up  and  to  be  considered  under  the 
proper  aspect,  since  the  veilings  are  now  drawn  aside,  and  all  problems  solved. 

The  animal  and  human  sacrifices  found  at  all  times  and  everywhere  on  the  face  Sacrifices: 
of  the  earth,  are  not  traceable  to  any  other  cause  than  to  the  feeling  of  the  necessity  of  ^"'^  ^  ***  propitated. 
a  propitiation.     Ever  since  the  sad  rupture  of  family  unity   mankind  has  had  a 
remembrance  of  a  detachment  from  the  Heavenly  powers,  and  of  a  disrupture  among 
the  earthly  relatives. 

An  inner  restlessness  was  to  be  appeased,  a  heavy  burden  to  be  lifted  off  from  the  inner-  Expiation 
most  soul.    It  was  in  keeping  with  the  nature  of  the  relations  existing  between  all  parties  demanded  by 
concerned  that  retribution  of  guilt  be  made,  that  guilt  challenges  revenge.     For  a  life  torn  un^-,^ge''  °        ^ 
out  of  the  ground  in  which  it  is  rooted,  for  a  life  doomed  to  death,  only  a  life  can  be  an  equi- 
valent.   The  justice  of  this  doom  being  present  in  the  nature  of  all  things  assumes  in  man  the  justice  of  the  penalty 
form  and  feeling  of  guilt,  the  demand  of  satisfaction  uttered  by  the  outraged  constitution  and  and  relief  from  it. 
order  of  the  universe,  whose  representative  and  warden  man  himself  was  to  be.    In  'other 
words:    Guilt  is  the  demand  of  conformity  to  absolute  justice,  made  upon  the  responsible  SigniflcMce  of  the 
person.    By  virtue  of  the  feeling  thus  ingrained  into  human  nature,  guilt  universally  mani- 
fests itself  in  the  offering  of  sacrifices. 

The  refuge  taken  at  sacrificial  altars  testifies  to  the  truth  that  involuntary   feelings  and 
promptings  of  shame  and  fear  are  left  to  the  sinner,  in  order  to  keep  him  redeemable.    The  Absolute  us  ice  of 
altar  as  an  asylum  witnesses  sacrifice  to  be  an  established  and  given  institution,  the  pledge  of  Icknowi'edg^  in  the 
conciliation,  declaring  that  under  certain  conditions  the  intervention  of  atonement  and  re-  universality  of  sacrifice. 
lease  is  admissible.    The  significance  of  the  feeling  of  guilt  is  that  it  acknowledges  the  jus- 
tice of  the  death-sentence,  and  the  refuge  which  the  guilty  one  takes  in  sacrifice,  signifies  the 
faint  recognition  of  the  conditional  pardon  offered.    The  conditions  thus  assented  to  consist 
in  the  satisfaction  of  justice  by  payment  of  the  penalty.     The  sinner's  despondency  at  this 
stage  is  alleviat-ed  by  the  feeling,  that  he  is  not  alone  or  not  altogether  responsible  for  the  sacrifice  expiatory 
portentous  consequences.    The  propensity,  therefore,  to  put  the  blame  upon  something  or  under  conditions. 
somebody  else,  contains  an  element  of  truth.     The  truth  is  that,  on  account  of  the  voluntary 
sacrifice  of  a  consecrated  and  innocent  life  in  lieu  of  the  doomed  life  of  the  culprit,  release  is 
granted  and  restitution  warranted  him.    For  the  time  being  he  is  put  on  his  good  behavior,  Vicarious 
kept  under  probation,  and  under  surety  of  his  bail.  a  on  m  n 

In  its  deepest  sense  sacrifice  is  the  type  for  that  vicarious  atonement  which  alone 
fully  answers  the  conditions.  And  hence  it  was  truth  contained  in  all  expiatory  sac- 
rifices that  blood  alone,  as  the  seat  of  life,  can  serve  the  purpose  of  propitiation. 

The  wrath  of  the  deity  is  to  be  conceived  and  acknowledged  as  the  just  resistance  against, 
and  resentment  of,  the  destructive  violence  of  the  bad.    The  anger  of  God  is  the  reaction  of  ^e  plw*  or  baü^tob^ 
the  saving  and  rescuing  purpose  against  that    which  annihilates,  in  order  to  save  itself  from  given.  ' 
annihilation.    This  just  and  holy  indignation  thirsts  not  for  blood  from  vindictiveness,  but 
requires  life  as  a  pledge  for  the  maintainance  of  equity  in  behalf  of  the  best  interests  of 
humanity  as  a  whole.    God  accepts  vicarious  blood  as  a  substitute  for  the  life  of  the  guilty  Ang«'  of  God  the 

.    ,     ,  .         ~        ,      ,         ^     ,  .  leverse  side  of  rescuing 

one ;  as  a  memorial  showing  forth  that  God  is  ever  so  willinq  TO  fobgive,  pbo video  that  love.  i  40, 

GOD  HIMSELF  AND  NOT  THE  SINNEB  IS  ENTITLED  TO  FIX  THE  TEBMS  OF  PABDON. 

Sacrifice  as  an  institution,  ranking  with  the  first  and  fundamental  ordinances  of 
historical  import,  is  a  gift  of  God,  held  out  as  a  pledge  of  reconciliation.    Whilst  man 
by  virtue  of  this  symbolic  act  is  held  under  bond,  God  pledges  Himself  to  suspend  ^^^^.^.^^ 
the  verdict  of  death  until  the  bondsman  shall  consecrate  His  life  as  a  ransom  to  re-  institution  is  a  gift 

,  .  -  .  pledging  suspense  of 

deem  the  sinner's  life  from  final  condemnation,  and  for  the  present  to  free  him  from  «»e  death-penaity. 
the  disheartening  fear  of  death.    Salvation  is  thus  made  possible  for  all,  whilst,  of  cuipritheia  under 
course,  it  becomes  effective  only  with  those,  who  accept  of  their  redemption  on  the  *"''''^- 
ground  of  the  love  and  life  laid  down  in  the  atonement:  i.  e.  who  submit  to  the 
conditions. 


212 


VICARIOUS  ATONEMENT. 


n.  D.  ch.  n.  §  106. 


Atonement  made 
for  all; 
effective  only 
for  those  who 
submit  to  the 
reasonable 
simple 
conditions. 

Man  judged  or 
acquitted  according  to 
the  attitude  taken  toward 
the  atonement. 

Intent  of  sacrifice 
subverted. 


Evidences  of  guilt  and 
of  the  necessity  of 
propitation.      §  108,  157. 


Cosmical  condition  of 
atonement  remains  in 
full  force  wherever  the 
redemption  be  rejected. 
§  9,  36,  116,  117. 


Scenes  of  frenzy  in 
visionary  abnegations. 
Apuumts,  Hohers. 


Instances  from  Roman 
life.     JiTVXMAL,  Pbxllik. 


Many  victlms  for  the 
fault  of  one. 


or  one  to  be  sacrificed 
for  the  baseness  of  the] 
many. 


All  being  now  fulfilled  by  the  representative  of  humanity  in  the  great  sacrifice, 
man  henceforth,  is  either  judged  or  acquitted  according  to  the  attitude  taken  toward 
this  one  sacrifice. 

In  the  consternation  sequent  to  the  great  calamity,  the  leniency,  the  mercy  of  God  was 
forgrotten ;  as  yet  every  deed  and  thought  was  related  to  supernatural  power.  But  God-con- 
sciousness being  sadly  distracted,  God  was  conceived  as  revengeful.  It  was  the  origin  of 
heathenism  when  man  took  to  the  idea,  that  it  was  incumbent  up.)n  him  to  restore  God  to 
goodness.  The  evil  consequences  of  godlessness  were  imputed  to  unseen  beings,  with  whom 
the  bad  feelings  were  associated  to  the  extent  of  objectivising  guilt  into  bad  spirits.  It  was 
then  only  a  small  step  on  the  steep  incline,  that  the  idea  of  vicarious  atonement,— altho  en- 
graven so  deep  into  th^human  mind  that  man  offers  self  justification  in  excuse  of  guilt  by 
blaming  it  on  others,  if  he  does  not  take  revenge  for  the  sake  of  selfsatisfaction— was  cor- 
rupted into  bribes  to  conciliate  demons  or  to  make  gods  the  means  for  his  own  purposes. 
Feeling  of  guilt  associated  with  the  thought  of  sacrifice  remains  so  effective,  nevertheless,  as 
that  many  a  criminal  was  prompted  to  give  himself  up  to  justice  in  satisfaction  of  natural 
justice,  testifying  thereby  to  the  objective  validity  and  perpetuity  of  its  claim.  The  unwilling- 
ness to  offer  sacrifices  in  propitiation  of  wrongs  in  the  proper  and  prescribed  order  ever 
caused  man  to  rage  against  himself,  at  least. 

Sacrifices  witheld  or  arbitrary  corruptions  of  the  ordinance  go  to  enhance  the 
harvest  of  the  evil  one  every  time.  Under  this  aspect  come  all  the  sacrifices  of  wars 
in  which  neglect  of  the  Christian  order  of  propitiation  is  horribly  avenged.  For,  if 
Christ's  bloody  atonement  would  be  held  sacred  in  the  full  sense,  man  would  not 
need  to  make  involuntary  sacrifices  in  destroying  his  own  deranged  existence. 
Think  of  Jerusalem  in  the  year  A.  D.  70.  The  law  of  sacrificial  retribution  remains  in  full 
force  as  a  cosmical  condition,  wherever  the  universally  valid  sacrifice  of  the  Redeemer  is 
rejected. 

We  hear  an  uninterrupted  series  of  cries  in  hymns  of  contrition  and  psalms  of  repen- 
tance. They  came  from  different  motives  and  are,  therefore,  of  different  ethical  quality, 
altho  never  without  religious  purport. 

Those  cries  from  Sumer,  andAkkad  and  Babylon,  from  Ninive  and  along  the  whole  Med- 
iterranean coast  preceded  selfannihilation  in  orgiastic  frenzy  and  demon-service.  When 
in  the  performances  of  the  Syrian  Mylitta  cult  the  gangs  of  the  Kinaedes  wandered  about,  as 
Apulejus  depicts  them,  with  yellow  turbans,  half  naked,  waving  hatchets,  swords,  and 
scourges  in  their  mad  dances,— then  selfmutilations  were  practiced  in  which  blood  was  spilled 
unsparingly,  until  one  of  the  crowd,  as  Movers  describes,  would  charge  himself  with  the  sins 
of  all  and  chastise  himself  for  them. 

We  let  the  curtain  drop  to  hide  the  spectacle  of  carnage  and  blood-shedding  on  festive 
occasions  in  honor  of  Baal-Moloch  at  Tyre  and  Carthage.  Such  unnatural,  may  we  not  say 
subnatural  cults  spent  their  fury  even  before  the  throne  of  the  deified  emperor.  There  one 
could  see  a  frantic  woman  at  the  head  of  the  procession  of  the  Cappadocian  highpriestesses, 
lacerating  her  arm  with  a  double-edged  adze,  whilst  the  priests  with  flowing  hair  in  dark 
clothes  and  caps  of  shaggy  furs  were  jumping  around  her  and  the  altar,  brandishing  their 
sharp  blades.  The  blood  running  from  the  gashes  in  their  bodies  was  caught  up  by  the  hands 
of  admiring  worshippers  and  sipped  with  eagerness,  for  it  was  believed  to  possess  expiatory 
virtues.  "Nowhere  was  the  desire  for  absolution  and  reconciliation  more  seriously  felt  and 
more  sincerely  expressed,  than  in  the  religious  usages  of  this  society,"  says  Praller  in  his 
'•Roman  Mythology.''  Juvenal  alludes,  "that  long  ago  the  Syrian  Orontes  had  emptied  itself 
into  the  Tiber." 

And  so  we  might  observe  how  the  extremes  meet  in  the  Haragiri  of  the  Japanese  and  the 
codes  of  honor  among  our  duelists.  The  modern  descriptions  of  criminal  cases  speak  of  many 
instances  where  perpetrators  of  hidden  crimes  could  find  no  rest  until  they  unburdened  their 
consciences  by  delivering  themselves  to  the  courts  of  justice,  and  confessing  their  deeds. 
There  are  cases  on  record,  that  convicts  begged  to  be  executed  in  order  to  get  rid  of  the  tan- 
talising reproaches  of  murdered  souls.  Many  a  case  of  suicide  belongs  to  this  category.  All 
this  shows  the  urgency  of  the  compensation  for  guilt:  it  shows  the  mastery  which  the  a^ixious 
suspense  wields  over  man. 

§  107.  The  next  stage  of  the  craving  for  propitiation,  common  to  all  parts  of  the 
race  under  all  zones,  is  that,  where  instead  of  the  guilty  person  another  receives  the 
death-stroke  or  swallows  the  poisoned  cup  who  partook  not  of  the  crime.  There  is  no 
nation  on  the  face  of  the  globe  whose  history  would  not  demonstrate  efforts  to  satisfy 
the  cosmical  law  of  propitiation  by  vicarious  atonement  in  smoking  streams  of  blood. 

At  this  stage  the  aberrations  of  the  religious  consciousness  rest  upon  the  intuitive 
thought  and  the  too  much  neglected  truth  of  the  solidarity  of  human  sin  and  guilt  in 
general.  Hundreds  are  sacrificed  through  the  negligence  of  one,  or  the  wickedness 
of  another.  Or  on  the  other  hand,  one  person  of  relative  innocence  must  suffer  for 
many  or  suffer  with  the  rest. 


n.  D.  CH.  II.  §  108.     SACRIFICES  IN  THE  PERIPHERAL  NATIONS  AND  THE  CENTRAL.  213 

None  has  better  elucidated  this  difficult  problem  of  the  sufferings  to  be  endured  by  inno-   Solidarity  of  human 
cents,  and  of  the  indirect  participation  of  each  in  the  guilt  of  others,  or  of  the  responsibility  ^'"  ^""^  ^"'"    Dornee. 
incumbent  upon  all  for  the  guilt  of  one,  than  Dorner  in  his  dogmatics.    We  on  our  part  can 
only  give  facts,  in  explanation  of  vicarious  suffering  on  the  principle  of  the  solidarity  of  the 
race  by  the  logic  of  history.    This  logic  does   not  investigate  the  greater  measure  of  guilt,  innocence  suffering  for 
or  the  lesser  degree  of  innocence,  but  passes  on  to  the  order  of  the  day  since  the  sacrifice  of  *^^  'auits  of  otiiers. 
the  Mediator  has  solved  also  this  problem. 

It  is,  perhaps,  not  generally  ki-own,  that  human  sacrifices  were  made  when  cities  were 
founded  or  bridges  were  built  among  the  Germans  and  Scottish  as  well  as  among  the  Greeks  js  4i,  54,  iio,  i35k 

and  Romans.  Alexander  sacrificed  a  virgin  when  he  founded  Alexandria.  The  same  did 
Tiberius  at  the  laying  of  the  corner-stone  of  the  grand  theatre  in  Antioch.  The  Germans  and 
Persians  equally  with  the  Slavonians  kept  up  the  usage  of  burying  alive  or  butchering  cap- 
tives, before  or  after  a  battle.  Upon  the  isle  of  Leucas  the  Greeks  annually  threw  a  man  from 
the  cliff  down  into  the  sea  for  an  expiation  of  the  sins  of  the  populace  in  general.  Upon 
-Rhodes,  opppsite  the  temple  of  Artemisia  at  the  annual  festival  of  Kronos  one  was  hung  for 
the  expiation  of  the  common  guilt.  From  Athens  we  hear,  that  once  two  men  were  killed  in- 
stead of  the  one  who  was  required  for  the  benefit  of  the  community  at  the  annual  feast  of  the 
Targelies.  Sophocles  makes  Oedipus  say,  "A  pure-minded  soul  has  he,  who  dies  voluntarily.  Voluntary  seifdeniais 
being  well  qualified  to  serve  as  a  ransom,  and  to  obtain  immunity  from  penalty  for  thou-  Sophocles*"*  o  o  era 
sands."  The  Greek  legends  are  full  of  such  selfconsecrations  since  Codros  chose  death  for  the 
sake  of  the  liberty  of  the  state. 

People  ever  held  the  idea  that  one  can  sacrifice  his  comfort,  even  his  life  for  an-  victims  of  sUnder. 
other.  Up  to  date  people  act  as  tho  the  honor  of  one  sacrificed  to  shield  the  baseness 
of  another  did  not  amount  to  much,  tho  life  itself  has  no  value  without  honor.  It 
seems  that  victims  of  calumny  find  less  sympathy,  because  the  sacrifice  of  their  honor 
is  accomplished  more  easily  than  murder.  Society  winks  at  it,  making  calumny 
rather  accrue  to  the  prestige  of  the  libeler. 

However  this  may  be,  human  nature  reveals  the  fact  that  one  may  be  sacrificed, 
or  deny  and  sacrifice  himself  voluntarily,  in  behalf  of  another. 

In  the  next  higher  stage  the  idea  and  necessity  of  expiation  is  exhibited  in  ani- 
mal sacrifices,  taking  the  place  of  the  human.  This  is  the  repristination  upon  the 
true  symbolic  and  typical  act,  the  institution  of  which  was  originally  given  as  a  me- 
morial and  a  pledge. 

According  to  E.  Lassaulx  a  seal  was  branded  upon  the  consecrated  animals.    The  Auimai  sacrifices. 
seal— most  remarkable— represented  the  figure  of  a  mai*,  kneeling,  with  hands  bound  i^^savi^. 
upon  his  back,  the  edge  of  a  sword  set  to  his  throat,  the  bystanders  striking  their 
breasts  with  their  hands.  Here  we  see,  that,  as  also  the  Indian  rituals  prescribe  it,  the  Meaning  of 
sacrifice  of  an  animal  was  made  the  substitute  and  ransom  for  the  doomed  life  of  the  leneraf 
sinner. 

§  108.    Summing  up  the  gains  of  our  analytic  investigation  as  a  basis  for  further  ^^ 
conclusions,  we  find  the  result  to  corroborate  the  terse  statement  of  Wuttke:  "In  the  beinjin^earnest 
bloody  sacrifices  of  men  and  animals,  man  shows  that  he  is  in  earnest  about  religion.''  wüm][^*  ^^^^^^**"  ik 

Most  assuredly.  Here  at  last  we  stand  before  the  seriousness  of  the  situation. 
The  blood  of  these  victims  cries  to  Heaven. 

In  the  basest  subversions  of  the  original  intent  of  sacrifice  there  is  still  discernible  the 
typical  purport  underlying  them  all.  The  "anxious  suspense"  wants  to  secure  a  suspension  of 
the  verdict,  an  amelioration  of  evils. 

Thus  every  offering  is  a  shadow,  more  or  less  dark  or  distinct,  of  the  grave  solem-  purport  of  the  ordained 
nity  of  the  moment,  when  the  Highpriest  in  the  capacity  of  a  Mediator  entered  into  of  wwdi  afi^others  ar^^ 
the  presence  of  the  Unseen,  interceding  with  the  blood  of  the  innocent  soul.  ^ '""  '^  '°'^" 

The  sprinkling  of  the  blood  in  the  central  sanctuary  on  the  Day  of  Atonement 
signified  reconciliation  in  behalf  of  the  chosen  nation,  and  ultimately  in  the  in- 
terest of  the  whole  world. 

The  sacrifices  of  the  nations  were  shadows  of  this  typical  atonement,  inasmuch  as  they 
virtually  ref racttrue  elements  of  the  fundamental  thought  in  the  originally  ordained  sacrifice. 
In  the  measure  as  the  nations  recede  from  the  center  toward  the  wide  periphery  and  their  re- 
ligious sentiments  darken,  the  sacrificial  acts,  in  which  the  religious  tenets  always  center,  are 
corrupted  correspondingly.  But  notwithstanding  their  corruptions  they  perpetuate  rem- 
nants of  pristine  or  universal  revelation. 

It  is  by  virtue  of  special  revelation  that  the  celebration  of  the  typical  sacrifice  in 
the  Old  Testament  forshadows  the  real  Atonement,  without  being  in  any  way  part  of 
the  same  or  adequate  to  it,  because  it  chiefly  rests  upon  externals  and  upon 
command. 


214 


The  typical  atonement 


SuflBciency  of  the 
Great  Sacrifice 

which  no  meritorious 
act  can  amend,  or 
render  more  effective, 
or  supersede. 


The 

*'  Son  of  Man ' 


the  central  figure 
of  the 
macrocosmos. 

§  11, 13,  36. 


The  personality  in  the 
mean  of  the 
Triune  God, 


Incarnation  and 
Atonement  in  their 
»igniflcance  for  mai 


Crucifixion. 


Imputation  of 
all  forms  and 
effects  of  the 
Bad  to  the  One 
altogether 
righteous. 


COSMICAL  SIGNIFICANCE  OF  THE  ATONEMENT.  11.  IX  CH.  II.  §  108. 

In  the  order  of  worship  of  the  concentric  nation  the  true  import  of  the  allegorical 
type  of  "The  Sacrifice"  proper  was  to  be  protected  against  all  arbitrary  changes  and 
perversions.  To  this  end  God  had  stipulated  the  conditions  of  reconciliation  accord- 
ing to  His  will  and  wisdom  and  ways  in  this  impressive,  instructive,  and  disciplinary 
ordinance  down  to  its  minutest  details.  But  since  the  Great  Sacrifice  is  now  accom- 
plished in  every  particular,  and  in  perfect  obedience  to  the  sovereign  will,  the  hulls 
fall  and  the  type  is  abolished.  It  is  the  sacrifice  upon  Calvary,  which  ever  had  been 
divined,  to  which  all  offerings  pointed,  upon  which  all  other  sacrifices  of  the  peri- 
phery revolved,  in  which  religion  is  intensified,  and  revelation  and  religion  are  ren- 
dered identical.    Nothing  is  to  be  added,  no  other  merit  can  supersede  it. 

Everywhere  we  found  a£B.iction,  agony  and  want  of  spiritual  solace  causing  intense 
altho  unconsciousdesire  for  the  appearance  of  the  Mediator  arid  for  his  real  atonement.  Every- 
where the  conviction  that  life  is  the  gift  of  God  but  forfeited  on  account  of  the  disrupture; 
and  that  man  therefore  is  justly  condemned  to  die,  is  the  confession  implied  in  each  sacrifi- 
cial act.  Everywhere,  furthermore,  it  is  before  consciousness  that  guilt  maybe  put  upon 
somebody  else,  and  that  a  life  of  an  innocent  one  voluntarily  consecrated  to  this  end  may  in- 
tercede for,  and  suspend  the  doom  of,  the  guilty  ones,  may  save  the  lives  of  all.  These  premises 
in  the  problem  had  at  last  been  comprehended  well  enough.  It  was  in  the  groping  search 
after  the  Innocent  One  where  the  error  occurred.  In  the  usual  line  of  events  and  among  men 
as  they  are,  no  sacrifice  could  give  full  satisfaction  and  answer  the  conditions. 

Now  the  Innocent  One  steps  forth  from  the  midst  of  men.  He  announces  Him- 
self to  be  the  Mediator,  "THE  SON  OF  MAN."  We  are  sure  of  having  correctly  un- 
derstood Him,  when  we  took  Him  for  the  real  issue  of  humanity  in  the  fullest  sense, 
for  the  Ideal  Man.  As  such  He  is  the  central  personification  of  the  macrocosmos,  and  we 
have  seen  what  that  means,  when  speaking  of  the  position  of  man  as  the  medium  of 
two  worlds.  As  the  Ideal  Man,  the  perfect  man  in  true  reality.  He  is  "the"  repre- 
sentative of  universal  humanity,  and  He  is  the  center  of  the  universe. 

As  the  personality  in  the  middle  of  the  living  and  therefore  Triune  Deity  which 
is  unapproachable  on  the  part  of  the  world,  Jesus  came  more  than  near  to  man;  when 
he  took  his  part,  he  identified  himself  with  him.  He  actually  became  the  perfect  man 
80  as  to  be  capable  of  sympathising  with  every  one  who  ^ill  let  Him  approach  to  his 
heart  as  a  friend. 

This  God-man  gave  Himself  for  us.    He  was  crucified. 

000 

Jesus  the  Christ  bridged  the  chasm  between  the  worlds  spiritual  and  natural. 
By  His  intercession  on  high  He  equipoised  all  strains  here  below.  By  descending 
into  the  abyss  He  shut  it  up.  Unifying  human  nature  with  the  Divine  through  His 
person.  He  becomes  not  only  one  of  us,  but  the  head  of  all  humanity  and  one  with  it. 
As  the  central  person,  as  head  and  representative  of  the  race  He  bears  humanity  not 
only  upon,  but  also  within  Himself,  in  the  very  manner  in  which  He  carries  the 
macrocosmos  physically  within  Himself,  and  in  which  man  is  the  crown  and  epitome 
of  the  physical  universe. 

In  this  capacity  He  obediently  and  voluntarily  submits  to  bear  all  sin  and  shame 
of  the  race,  all  its  suffering  collectively,  and  the  death  of  each  individually.  He 
takes  upon  Himself  death  as  our  punishment,  and  to  full  satisfaction  pays  the  ac- 
cumulated debts  as  our  bondsman.  He  does  it  all,  bears  it  all.  But  under  forms  of 
law,  here  overdoing  itself  in  human  administration  by  actually  murdering  Him,— 
He  sinks  down  under  the  burden. 

The  Pure  One  identifies  Himself  with  a  wretched  humanity.  As  its  solitary 
healthy  member,  as  its  heart  even,  He  is  part  of  the  organism  of  humanity,  a  body 
sick  unto  death.  The  poison  and  leprosy  of  the  whole  body  throws  its  destructive 
force  unitedly  upon  this  single  pure  heart.    It  breaks. 

But  the  plague  also  spends  its  force.  Out-raging  itself  in  raging  against  the  In- 
nocent One,  the  power  of  the  Bad  is  broken. 

Hence  the  possibility  is  in  reach  of  each  and  all,  to  be  healed  and  freed  from  sin 
and  its  effects.  The  cure  is  to  be  realised  in  the  natural  order  of  organic  nni- 
fication.~  There  is  a  simple  way  of  becoming  embodied  in  the  wonderful  organism  in 
which  each  is  to  prove  a  living  member,  by  partaking  of  the  vitalising  forces  circu-_ 
lating  through  it:  the  Blood  and  the  Spirit. 


n  D.  CH.  II.  §  109.  SOLUTION  OF  ALL  PROBLEMS  215 

As  the  incarnation  and  the  sacrifice  must  of  necessity  be  historic,  so  the  partici-  appropriation 

...  ,  ,  .  X      .      1    T  1     1       X  1-      x».     r.      •        or  tne  fruits  of 

pation  in  the  new  lile  is  to  proceed  upon  historical  lines,  marked  out  by  the  Savior  the  Atonement 
for  good  reasons,  in  His  testamentary  bequest.  ?(J>on*\hT  hfstorio 

The  cardinal  facts—not  mere  doctrines— of  this  communion  consist  in  these  ex-  lines  marked 
periences,  namely:  Sins  forgiven  by  virtue  of  the  blood  and  death  of  Jesus  Christ;  new  Testator.^ 
life  given  by  the  impartation  of  the  Holy  Spirit  sent  through  Him.    The  synthesis  lies  Appropriation  of  the 
in  the  compass  of  history,  but  here  transcends  it  to  be  comprehended  by— faitii  alone !  Iho'^u^LlleLltui!'''^' 

The  solemn  orations  delivered  by  the  fathers  of  the  Greek  church,  the  pensive  hymns  of  fluh tione*  "^  *^*  ^ 
the  Middle- Ages,  the  intellectual  strivings  of  scholasticism,  and  of  philosophy  up  to  this  day, 
could  but  revolve  around  the  mystery  of  this  death,  from  which  proceeds  the  life  of  a  new- 
world,  that  is,  a  Christianised  culture,  (civilisation)  unknown  before.  They  all  could  do  noth- 
ing but  feel  their  way  around  the  mystery  underlying  the  process  of  this  renovation  by  way  of 
regeneration  and  growth,  thus  initiated  to  continue  to  the  end  of  the  world  and  of  the  times. 
They  could  not  do  even  this  much,  unless  they  remained  in  tender  touch  with  the  head  and 
heart  of  humanity,  not  by  mere  intellectual  assent,  but  by  personal  friendship. 

Never  will  we  be  able  to  formulate  in  words  the  secret  of  the  vicarious  death 
objectively,  or  the  imputation  of  righteousness  to  the  petitioner  for  pardon  subject-  of"the  process^f 
ively,because  these  elements  of  reconciliation  are  involved  in  the  principles  of,  and  in  escSIes*scientific 
the  order  of  their  effects  upon,  the  living  organism.  The  secret  was  not  intended  to  be  demonstration 
abstracted  and  to  be  bottled  up  for  occasional  use,  as  it  were,  so  as  to  make  superflu-  expeHence.^*^"* 
ous  the  continuous  touch  and  contact  with  the  source  of  life  by  faith,  superfluous 
the  unbroken  circulation  of  divine  influences  and  the  connection  with  the  organism 
by  love.    The  secret,  for  this  reason,  should  become  uncovered  no  more  than  can  be  this  secrecy, 
found  out  about  life  pure  and  simple.     It  shall  not  be  found  out  and  applied  in  the 
way  of  scientific  demonstration,  because— so  it  seems  to  us— it  would  be  misfortune  "IstmpoS'for" 
in  the  extreme,  if  the  finite  being  should  obtain  the  full  power  over  itself.     It  is  as  "bsoiute.''^'**'^**'""* 
unnecessary  as  it  is  impossible  for  the  creature  to  become  absolute. 

To  revolve  upon  the  central  fact,  truth  and  person,  means,  nevertheless,  to  under- 
stand the  necessity  by  which  man  is  attracted  to  it.  To  understand  the  mystery  of  the 
fact  or  person  itself  would  mean  to  stand  above  it,  and  to  play  the  master  with  the 
mode  and  the  combinations  under  which  the  consummation  of  the  whole  process  of 
renovation  is  to  be  perfected.  This  can  safely  be  trusted  to  the  management  of  the 
Absolute  One. 

§  109.    Arrived  at  the  middle  of  our      observations  in  universal  history  we  stand  Retrospect  from 
before  its  central  figure,  under  the  cross.    Taking  history  under  the  aspect  of  its  ^'under^the^ 
movements,  we  stand  under  its  meridian.     Taking  it  as  the  science  of  explaining  cross.' 

human  affairs,  we  stand  at  its  base,  below  which  an  attempt  at  explanation  dares 
not  venture.  Already  a  heap  of  material  has  accumulated  waiting  for  decipherment. 
Presuppositions,  for  which  at  several  stages  of  the  disquisition  we  had  to  beg  the 
question,  must  now  present  their  vouchers  and  find  their  affirmation. 

The  observer  of  the  suffering  Innocent  One  here  receives  new  light  with  refer-  Previous 
enee  to  previous  conjectures.    Not  before  could  he  appreciate  the  graveness  of  the  affi^r^ed^^nd 
situation.    The  crucifixion  deepens  the  interest.    The  earnestness  of  this  death  dis-  elucidated, 
closes  the  solemnity  of  history;  no  event  save  this  could  so  keenly  impress  itself  upon 
it.    As  the  "Word"  is  the  light  of  the  world  so  is  the  cross  the  key  to  human  history. 
We  feel  as  tho  we  had  so  far  only  looked  at  its  exterior.    But  since  the  glance  can 
pierce  behind  the  rent  curtain  into  the  invisible  world,  from  the  depth  of  which  phe- 
nomena of  historic  reality  arose;  since  the  coverings  are  withdrawn  from  drowsy 
sleepers,  beneath  which  many  things  concerning  the  visible  world  used  to  be  hidden: 
matters  become  plain  and  distinct  which  before  seemed  fathomless. 

In  this  death  and  resurrection  all  is  disclosed  now;  and  that  is  affirmed  which  the  prophecies  aflinned. 
heralds  of  the  forthcoming  Ruler  of  all  nations  proclaimed  by  virtue  of  His  commission 
and  according  to  His  instructions.    We  see  why,  for  the  time  being,  it  all  had  been 
enclosed  in  the  peculiar  wrappings  of  what  we  may  call  a  sectarian  nationality. 
Nowhere  else  but  here  are  we  made  acquainted  with  the  personal  God  perfectly  inde-  facte  pToVded'for.  ** 
pendent  of  the  world;  a  Triune  God,  because  possessing  an  organic  nature  of  His 
own.    Being  the  very  life  in  itself,  blessed  in  Himself,  His  existence  is  in  no  way  ^^^  .  ,       . 
affected  by  His  relations  to  the  world,  the  creation  of  His  will  and  wisdom.    With  Godl^estored. 
these  few  self-evident  truths— which  are  quite  rational  and  so  plain  as  to  be  estima-  ^"'"*^* 


216 


Knowledge  of 
creation. 


God  is  father  to 
men  solely  with 
reference  to  the  , 
reconciliation,  is 


GOD-CONSCIOUSNESS  RESTORED.     WORLD-CONSCIOUSNESS  CORRECTED.     11.  D.  Ch.  II.  §  109. 

ted  as  mere  truisms,  as  to  lose  their  majesty  since  they  have  become  so  familiar  to  us, 
tho  they  once  had  to  be  specially  revealed,— all  the  weird  phantoms  and  theognostic 
dreams  of  paganism  are  pushed  into  the  rubbish. 

Evidently  the  universe  is  not  an  emanation  of  divine  radiancy,  nor  the  reflection  of 
such.  Natural  life  aside  from  personal  life  contains  not  a  particle  of  divine  substance,  by 
which  it  could  be  perceived  as  part  of  the  divine  essence.  God  exists  not  because  of  nature, 
nor  does  He  exist  for  being-  made  the  means  of  its  explanation.  God  does  not  owe  any  of  His 
dignity  to  creation ;  and  He  is  not  to  be  made  the  means  for  any  earthly  purpose  whatever, 
neither  He  nor  His  name. 

With  respect  to  creation  God  is  Lord  and  Ruler,  Father  He  is  solely  and  purely  in  regard 
to  salvation.    Man  has  reason    to  return  thanks  to  him. 


Sovereign  Ruler  of  the 
universe  and  of  historic 
movements.  §  218if. 


Hypothetical 
argumentation 
justified.  g  35. 

True  self-knowledge 
§  36,  37,  39,  40,  41,  56, 
109,  115,  129,  169, 
170,  185. 

Paradise. 


The  aooata&y. 


God's  purpose 
being  challenged, 
the  universe 
kept  its  course 

§  9,  106. 

to  preserve  it 
against  human 
aberrations  and 
Satanic 
mystifications. 


The  worst  of  all 
subversions : 
God  conceived  to  be 
bad,  is  to  be  conciliated. 


Standing  under  the  cross  we  discern  God  especially  as  the  regent  of  the  world. 
We  recognise  His  hand  in  creation,  we  feel  His  heart  in  salvation,  but  the  ways  and 
means  of  His  Providence  we  cannot  foresee,  and  it  is  a  sign  of  the  state  of  grace 
if  one  learns  to  perceive  and  acquiesce  in  them  post  eventum,— because  to  act  the 
part  of  providence  could  be  entrusted  to  no  other  but  the  Saviour's  hands.  We  perceive 
the  interaction  of  His  sovereign  rule  in  that  His  free  will  persists  in  the  realisation 
of  His  purpose  for  man's  true  benefit,  whilst  He  does  not  force  His  saving  love  upon 
anybody.  Thus  God  guides,  provides,  prevents  and  admits,  adjusts  and  judges  move- 
ments and  meii,  and  even  causes  new  beginnings  in  history  on  the  basis  of  the  ex- 
isting order  of  things,  through  human  agencies.  It  is  godly  not  to  judge  by  external 
appearance  and  successes,  or  by  reverses— and  it  is  rational,in  suffering,  to  trust  Him. 

All  this  we  laid  down  in  the  form  of  an  hypothesis.  We  are  now  vindicated  in 
declaring  the  existence  of  God  as  the  most  verified  of  all  empirical  facts. 

And  we  become  here  acquainted  with  ourselves:  for  we  behold  "the  first  man." 
He  is  on  speaking  terms  with  God.  He  is  the  root  of  the  whole  plant  of  humanity. 
He  lives  in  the  beatitudes  of  that  paradise  of  which  all  children  of  man  have  faint 
recollections  as  of  the  home  of  their  own  childhood.  We  see  man  as  he  then  was, 
endowed  with  all  the  faculties  necessary  for  cultivating  his  possessions  joyfully,  and 
for  preserving  himself  worthy  of  his  trust,  preparatory  to  higher  trusts.  From 
his  mediatory  position  between  God  and  the  world  the  intention  is  indicated,  that,  in 
gladsome  occupation  and  development,  and  in  continuous  intercourse  with  the  Father, 
a  happy  progeny  should  spread  over  the  earth,  their  dominion. 

But  mistrust,  doubt,  and  disobedience  ensued,  changing  it  all.  The  contrasts 
would  not  have  become  so  palpable  if  they  had  not  become  so  lamentable  in  the  relations 
between  the  Perfect  Man  and  his  surroundings.  It  was  not  simply  finiteness,  nor  the 
abuse  of  liberty  or  of  the  secondary  good,  it  was  rebellion  of  the  creature,  which  resul- 
ted in  rupture  upon  rupture,  and  subversion,  and  derangement  everywhere.  The  pur- 
pose of  God  was  questioned,  was  challenged.  To  save  it,  as  against  human  aberra- 
tions and  Satanic  mystifications  the  universe  had  to  keep  its  course,  reacting  against 
man,  its  intended  lord,  now  an  apostate.  Sin  was  paid  home  according  to  the  nature 
of  things  with  its  own  product— with  rebellion.  Man's  own  nature  most  unnat- 
urally turned  against  him,  and  severest  of  all  losses  was  the  loss  of  selfcontrol  and 
freedom.  Man  fell  back  from  his  ambition  to  become  as  God,  into  a  comparatively 
wretched  state  of  dependence  upon  nature.  In  order  to  sustain  his  earthly  existence 
man  was  condemned  to  hard  labor,  the  earth,  his  paradise,  changed  into  a  peniten- 
tiary. That  act  of  tearing  away  from  the  Father,  from  the  source  of  life  into  self- 
hood, was  answered  by  his  son  slaying  his  son. 

It  was  a  rapid  progress  downward  and  in  waywardness.  Ever  more  fatal  became  the 
estrangement,  and  fright  increased  at  the  rate  in  which  the  Bad  assumed  tremendous  pro- 
portions. Man,  judging  God  by  himself,  thought  that  He  was  bad,— the  worst  of  all  subver- 
sions. This  objectivication  or  projection  of  the  Bad  in  the  wrong  direction  widened  the  breach 
into  the  deep  abyss  of  which  all  of  us  know  only  too  much.  Man  took  sides  with  the  calumniator 
of  theGood,  and  wen.t  into  league  with  his  seducer,  sharing  his  enmity  against  holiness,  until 
the  inner  representative  of  the  Holy  One  withdrew  almost  entirely.  In  the  loneliness  and 
benightedness  in  which  man  thus  was  left,  the  "anxious  suspense"  seized  him.  And  it  is  an 
open  secret  that  in  quandaries  of  wickedness  men  will  not  shrink  from  perjury  to  extricate 
themselves  by  making  God  an  accomplice  of  their  dark  designs. 


n.  D.  CH.  II.  §  109  SELFKNOWLEDGE— ORIGIN  OF  THE  APOSTASr.  217 

The  pseudo-promise  had  come  true  in  a  measure  as  truth  had  been  mixed  with  «E^jt,«  gjcut  du." 
it:    "Ye  shall  be  as  gods,  knowing  good  and  evil".    To  be  sure,  man  now  entertained  ^,        ,    ,^     . 

.  ,  The  promise  of  knowlnc 

different  views,  of  the  Bad  he  had  plenty.  Concerning  himself  man  was  ashamed  "*•»«  «^»"  ^»o  •'«?*• 
to  see  much  of  the  animal  in  himself,  which  disabled  him  from  recognising  the  image 
of  God.  His  own  mate,  nearest  and  recently  dearest  to  him,  he  could  treat  with  dis- 
dain and  brutality.  To  man  such  misery  in  addition  to  his  views  was  more  than  mockery, 
he  could  not  rid  himself  of  the  recollection  of  his  losses,  of  forfeited  happiness;  for  he 
always  knew  of  something  better  which  now  caused  him  acute  remorse. 

It  was  just  this  recollection  which  aggravated  his  dejected  mood;  and  it  was  in  lotai subversion o« 

remnants  of  original 

just  this  dejection  in  which,  to  his  utter  bewilderment,  from  the  dark  abyss  the  word  9^^'=°,"'^"°^|'>f^ 

flashed  up  again  with  a  pallid  gleam:    "As  gods  shall  ye  be! "  Was  the  abyss  then  the  ^s,  57, 59.  u,  83, 95,  iis; 

abode,  perhaps,  of  the  spirits  tantalising  him?    Were  not  the  ghosts  of  those  he  had 

maltreated,  if  not  murdered,  the  gods  who  now  persecute  him  with  dreadful  reproaches, 

yea,  haunt  him  with  their  revenge?    The  gods  their  ghosts !  so  his  frightened  phantasy  ™ectiv1s°ed^ '  "'"'^'''''^ 

pressed  the  satanic  promise  home  to  him.    Man  could  not  rid  his  consciousness  of  the 

reality  of  the  state  of  immortality,  tho  humane  feelings,  and  the  befriending  idea 

of  a  human  unity  were  rent  to  shreds.    The  thrilling  recital  of  the  event  is  not 

intended  to  reveal  the  depths  of  the  Bad.    This  took  every  occasion  to  betray  itself,  as  reSd,  it  betrays*"** 

it  did  in  an  abundantly  horrible  manner  at  the  crucifixion. 

If  the  whole  had  been  told  before,  man  would  have  been  overwhelmed  by  terror;  „ 
what  was  said  was  ultimately  intended  for  encouragement  and  solace.  Man  should  be  phantmns 
set  aright  as  to  the  origin  of  all  the  blood-curdling  deeds  which  soil  every  page  of  f^atrich^*^^ 
history,  and  turn  every  blessing  into  a  curse,  by  being  apprised  of  the  wild  seeds     §  ^'  ^9'  ^4, 55, 57, 
sprouting  from  beneath  the  "bruised  head."    The  uncanny  light  in  which  those  dark  is]  78i  83^  ml  %,  96| 
phenomena  appear  glows  from  a  hearth  of  which  men  formerly  had  not  been  aware.  ^^* 

!Now  the  cause  of  original  sin  in  a  world  of  spirits  is  here  shown  to  mankind. 

We  see  at  a  single  glance  how  sin  was  palmed  off  upon  man  by  one  who  is  at  the  causality  of  sm  in  a 
head  of  this  nether  world  of  glow  and  darkness.    We  see  how  the  noblest  creature  ^""^ 
of  God  opened  himself  to  his  seductive  promise  through  misuse  of  the  fine  gift  of 
speech  in  a  peculiarly  religious  conversation,  under  abuse  of  confiding  guilelessness.  man^sSuiS^art"' 

Sin  entered  the  world  through  man's  spiritual  nature  by  way  of  a  lie. 

We  saw  how  man  fell ;  how  nature  entrusted  to  his  care,  fell  with  him ;  since  the  rent 
through  his  nature  extended  to  the  universe  belonging  to  it.  The  first  murder  was  the  issue 
of  envy  sequent  to  the  first  perversion  of  the  sacrificial  act.  This  last  and  strangely  legalised 
murder  in  which  "sin"  culminated,  by  the  perpetration  of  which  the  situation  became  cleared 
up  in  a  way  that  darkened  the  sun,  exposed  the  instigator  and  his  plans  beyond  the  possibility 
of  an  excuse  for  sin  in  any  of  its  manifestations,  Yet  we  are  also  apprised  of  the  truth  that, 
notwithstanding  the  impudence  of  the  Bad,  we  need  shudder  no  more.  To  look  into  the  depth 
of  the  enigma  which  embarrasses  the  science  of  human  affairs,  we  occupy  a  safe  standpoint. 
Facing  the  fact  from  under  the  cross  we  gain  courage  and  hope— because  we  discern  that  man 
is  not  the  producer  of  the  Bad. 

Human  nature  is  not  bad  in  essence,  not  bad  per  se.  Sin  was  reared  in  spheres  tran- 
seunt  and  introduced  as  their  product  ready  made.  It  had  been  kindled  in  the  cold,  remorseless 
passions  of  envy  and  hatred.  It  came  in  stealthily  from  that  infected,  rebellious  part  of  the 
angelic  spirit-world  which  kept  its  dominion,  but  was  thrown  down  into  darkness  together 
with  its  principalities. 

Without  the  knowledge  of  the  real  existence  of  this  dark  underworld,  history  in 
many  places  could  not  be  understood,  unless  we  would  sacrifice  human  nature  to  the 
realms  of  darkness,  and  would  acquiesce  in  the  imputation,  that  man  as  a  sinner  was  a  JJvu  hSf"*  * 
very  devil  himself.  The  historian  and  the  philanthropist  are  glad,  that  the  word  of 
truth  uttered  by  authority  of  the  mouth  of  truth  never  intimated  a  basis  for  such 
teaching. 

Humanity  in  itself,  then,  is  not  the  source  of  infernal  machinations.  If  sin  were 
80  essential  to  humanity  as  to  originate  from  it,  humanity,  like  the  dominion  of  Satan 
would  be  lost  beyond  redemption.  Sm  constuutefMs* 

As  it  is,  and  bad  enough  it  is  that  on  the  one  side  man  allows  himself  to  be  seduced,  yet  he  is,  essential  part; 
by  virtue  of  at  least  equal  right,  constantly  reclaimed  on  the  other.  The  nobility  he  possesses  because  noT 
as  by  birthright,  and  which  still  constitutes  his  essential  part,  has  been  spared  for  him  and  himself  the 
put  into  safe  keeping,  so  that  it  can  be  restored  to  him.     Altho  the  "image"  within  him  is  source  of  the 
lienceforth  so  stained  by  sin  and  disgrace  as  to  be  scarcely  recognisable  from  what  he  was  be-   "^'^• 
fore,  he  is  still  redeemable.    And  tho  his  descendants  are  so  estranged  in  godlessness,  and  lost 
in  the  wide  world,  as  to  flee  from  holiness  over  the  face  of  the  earth,  yet  God  does  not  lose 
sight  of  them. 


218 


SATAN,  HIS  METHODS  AND  ACCOMPLICES. 


II.  D.  CH.  IL  §  110. 


Traditional  knwledge 
of  the 

great  calamity 

neither  mythical  nor 
superstitious.         §  11,12. 

Inferences  correctly 
drawn. 


Evidences  of  a  deep  and 
dark  undercurrent, 
otherwise  inexplicable, 
when  history  meets  its 
cataracts  and  whirlpools. 


Holocausts  of  Carthage. 
141,51,  1U7. 


Human  Sacrifices. 
Haanibal.  8  71,  88. 


Fanatical  madness  at 
sight  of  the  cross — 
cannot  be  conceived 
but  as  of  infernal  origin. 

Reducible  only  to 
Satan's  fury  whenever 
exposed. 


"  Prince  of 
darkness"  not 
belonging  to  the 
sphere  or  the 
means  of 
revelation , 
betrays  himself 
in  order  to  ape 
and  to 
MYSTIFY 
REVELATION. 


Word  of  God  and  its 
preaching  approved  by 
the  manner  in  which 
the  lie  and  father  of 
lies  are  provoked. 


Taking  side  with  Satan. 
§  40,  41, 


Supposition  of  the 
break  of  the  unity  of 
humanity  proves 
correct.  %  41,  47. 


§  110.  Only  thus  and  now  are  we  enabled  to  understand  the  traditions  relative 
to  the  great  calamity,  which  previous  to  the  Day  of  Atonement  we  could  only  propose 
as  probable  helps  to  explanation.  We  find  the  fall  into  an  abyss  an  affirmed  fact. 
The  inferences  drawn  from  traditional  knowledge  were  correct:  these  traditions 
proved  to  be  neither  merely  mythical,  nor  altogether  superstitious. 

Consciousness,  severed  from  the  Good,  developed  into  a  rich  knowledge  of  the 
world  with  its  diversions.  But  as  to  its  normal  progress  it  is  now  more  than  ar- 
rested. It  now  becomes  filled  with  the  fright  of  the  great  night  in  which  the  mind 
finds  itself  alone,  without  God  in  the  midst  of  spectres  of  dreadful  adversaries.  Con- 
sciousness, maimed  from  the  stunning  it  sustained,  was  taken  captive  by  cosmical 
powers  and  superhuman  intellects.  The  traces  of  the  ravishments,  together  with  in- 
numerable misfortunes  we  found  in  the  wild,  distorted  features  of  character  and 
in  the  hideous  offspring  of  man's  imagination.  We  found  them  in  the  debris  of  hu- 
manity and  in  the  lowest  substratum  from  whence  they  broke  forth  ever  and  again. 
At  the  time  we  were  unable  to  account  for  them. 

Unless  we  adopt  this  view  with  respect  to  the  power  of  the  Bad,  we  cannot  understand 
the  utter  degeneracy  and  increasing  depravity  subsequent  to  another  catastrophe,  a  worse 
departure,  and  a  worldwide  dispersion.  Neither  could  we  begin  to  interpret  the  ominous 
signs  of  an  undercurrent  not  human,  not  brutal,  but  diabolical,  which  gushes  forth  into  day- 
light whenever  the  course  of  history  meets  with  its  whirlpools  and  cataracts. 

When  Carthage,  for  instance,  makes  a  holocaust  of  three  hundred  of  its  finest  youths  of 
noble  birth ;  and  if  such  a  rage  seizes  one  country  after  another,  then  we  cannot  simply  blame 
the  carnage  upon  human  error  or  superstition;  but  in  the  interest  of  reason,  we  are  compelled 
to  trace  out  the  symptoms  of  an  occult  disease  to  the  regions,  evaporating  such  maddening 
fumes. 

In  sight  of  the  "cursed  tree"  we  find  that  strange  fanatical  fervor  beneath  a  cover 
of  culture  and  under  guise  of  religion.  All  these  thousands  of  years  it  has  caused 
similar  eruptions  without  ceasing,  and  that  imitation  of  religion  branded  witli  the 
lust  of  dominion  and  persecution  is  to  all  appearances  as  yet  aglow  beneath  the 
cover  even  of  Christian  culture.  In  explanation  of  this  horrible  persistency  we 
can  conceive  of  no  other  but"  the  infernal  source. 

Explicit  reasons  for  facts  of  such  premeditated  wickedness  as  that  which  became 
manifest  at  the  crucifixion  are  reducible  solely  to  Satan's  furious  envy  whenever  he 
is  exposed,  revealing  itself  at  the  mere  sight  of  anything  that  pertains  to  the  Holy 
One.  He  is  not  merely  a  principle,  neither  a  convenient  scape-goat  to  be  laughingly 
blamed  with  deviltries.  He  is  the  personal  chief  of  a  realm  still  lower  than  fallen 
nature  and  a  deranged  world.  This  realm  continues  under  the  management  of  an 
intelligent,  personal  will,  of  the  Evil  One. 

It  ought  to  be  better  known,  that  this  "Prince  of  Darkness"  does  not  belong  to  the  sphere 
in  which,  and  to  the  means  by  which,  God  revealed  Himself ;  4)ut  that  he  betrayed  himself  by 
obtruding  with  his  wily  counteractions  upon  the  sphere  of  revelation,  in  order  to  instigate 
confusion  and  mystification,  in  order  to  caricature  religion  where  he  cannot  corrupt  it.  The 
recognition  of  this  fact  demands  discrimination  in  biblical  matters,  when  the  question  is 
raised  whether  every  word  written  in  the  Bible  was  spoken  by  God.  It  became  historically 
manifest  what  negative  part  Satan  attempted  to  play  in  the  sphere  of  revealed  religion, 
especially  at  the  occasion  of  the  great  sacrifice.  There  the  revealed  word  is  explicitly  vindi- 
cated by  the  manner  in  which  it  triumphed,  when  the  truth  of  history  and  even  the  law  were 
cramped  and  misapplied.  The  word  of  God  was  approved  by  the  manner  in  which  the  lie  and 
the  father  of  lies  became  provoked;  by  the  way  he  was  exposed  and  his  power  paralysed  when 
he  fought  to  the  bitter  end  for  the  maintenance  of  his  cause  and  position.  The  test  of  the 
strength  of  the  word  will  ever  be  repeated,  and  its  truth  evince  itself  by  the  way  in  which  the 
Bad  takes  up  the  issue  against  it,  by  the  manner  in  which  the  preaching  of  the  wordcallsforth 
faith  in  spite  of  Satan's  methodical  contrivances  to  destroy  its  effects,  by  creating  love  for 
Jesus  and  a  correspondingly  decided  hatred  against  His  enemy.  Defence  or  excuse  of  things 
clearly  belonging  to  the  dominion  of  Satan  is  a  symptom  of  incipient  enmity  against  the 
Savior  and  what  pertains  to  Him.  We  would  not  drag  this  matter  into  the  discussion,  if  the 
tendencies  either  for  or  against  did  not  affect  history  at  the  most  decisive  turning  points. 

One  event  at  any  rate  preceded  others  known  to  history  as  facts.  We  surmised  a 
sudden  catastrophe,  a  general  rupture  of  all  bonds  of  human  affection  and  sympathy, 
causing  that  enmity  among  fellow-men  which  otherwise  is  inexplicable.  Facts  of 
extreme  cruelty  advised  us  to  conjecture  such  an  event  as  an  historic  postulate.  And 
now  the  one  historical  fact  upon  which  we  meditate  aflirms  this  cardinal  supposition 
to  be  correct:  namely,  that  the  unity  of  humanity  is  not  a  mere  doctrine  founded  on 


II  D.  CH.  II.  §  111.  LANGUAGE  TESTIFIES  TO  THE  BROKEN  UNITY.  219 

speculation.    For  outside  of  revelation  we  would  never  have  come  to  the  knowledge  JevTseT'ToKK« 
of  this  fundamental  fact.    Only  under  the  cross  we  find  the  aflEirmation  of  what  re- 
garding this  unity  we  at  first  presumed  as  a  mere  hypothesis. 
The  death  of  the  One  for  all  solves  the  problem. 

In  order  to  appreciate  salvation  to  its  full  extent,  it  is  necessary  that,  as  Dorner  states, 
demonology  is  to  be  fundamentally  revised  and  reconstructed  as  consistent  with  facts,  instead 
of  slighting  it  altogether.  As  it  is,  Satan  and  depravity  are  rather  denied  or  extenuated 
than  the  "word  of  the  cross"  recognised,  tho  it  is  evident,  that  depravity  is  growing  in  proper- 
portion  as  salvation  is  ignored. 

But  if  it  is  admitted  that  salvation  is  the  Christianising  factor  sine  qua  non,  yea  the  most 
necessary  factor  of  history  in  its  chief  efforts  to  break  every  fetter  of  bondage,  then  the  first 
question  demanding  an  answer  is:  "From  what  are  we  saved?" 

Our  age  seems  rather  inclined  to  shirk  the  unpleasant  controversy  about  the  conflict  of 
conflicts,  that  of  Satan  vs.  The  Saviour.  Evidently  it  accrues  not  to  popularity, if  for  instance, 
evolution  of  theology  in  its  alleged  anti-dogmatism  is  contradicted.  By  this  evolutionism  it 
is  held  to  be  more  adequate  to  refined  Christianity  to  understand  it  as  the  outgrowth  of  in- 
tellectual improvement  on  the  basis  of  superstitious  fright,  than  to  believe  what  we,  on  the 
basis  of  bottom-facts,  maintained,  namely :  that  humanity  suffered  a  great  fall  from  a  higher 
state  of  consciousness  under  a  deception  wrought  by  the  arch-fiend  of  our  race — and  that  the 

BESTORATION  TO  TRUE  BBLIGION  WAS  IMPOSSIBLE  FROM  BELOW,  SINCE  ALL  THE  NATIONS  DOWN  TO 
THE  TIME  AT  WHICH  WE  ARRIVED  UNDER  THE  CROSS,  PROGRESSED  ONLY  IN  A  DOWNWARD  DEVOLU- 
TION. Facts  testified  to  by  archoeological  discoveries  constrain  us  to  acknowledge  this  as  the 
incontrovertible  truth. 

§  111.    From'the  outset  we  ascribed  great  importance  to  comparative  philology  Aid  of  metaphysic«  * 
as  a  guide  in  our  researches.    In  order  to  see  human  depravity  as  the  facts  ostensibly  '»^djspensibie. 
show  it,  we  are  compelled  to  call  upon  metaphysics  for  assistance,  just  as  we  needed 
it  for  the  investigation  of  the  enigmatical  origin  and  nature  of  the  Bad.    Metaphys- 
ics from  above  confirm  the  inference  formed  from  what  analytically  we  gathered 
below. 

Inquiry  into  the  states  of  degeneracy  under  cover  of  culture  starting  from  mere  antici-  Laneuage  the 
pations  has  now,  with  the  help  of  language,  made  the  points  of  controversy  perfectly  clear,  metaphysical  coefficient 
For  the  metaphysical  coeflBcient  in  history  is  language ;  and  this  need  not  be  allowed  to  be  "*  ^^^^°^y- 
pressed  only  in  the  service  of  the  lie. 

Languages  have  not  built  themselves  up  from  imitations  of  natural  sounds  to  ^nguage  witnesses 
such  a  height  as  we  find  in  the  earliest  cultures.    It  ought  to  have  been  remembered  dlprav*t7upwa?df  °" 
what  Otfried  Mueller  once  said:    "One  certainly  knows,  that,  on  the  contrary,  just  §10,12,34,41. 

the  most  abstract  parts  of  speech  became  fixed  first."    He  meant  such  words  which 
least  of  all  could  be  designated  as  expressing  impressions  from  without,  or  as  products  «Abstract  parts  of 
from  reflex-action  of  the  nerves  by  way  of  exclamations.      All  languages  of  our  own  ^^^Hp  "^o^^^^^^, 
lingual  family  prove  the  priority  of  abstract  words  which  rise  from  internal  sources.  *  ^°'  ^*- 

The  fact  is,  that  such  words  show  their  common  roots  most  plainly.  Hence  we  take 
them  as  pointing  to  a  time  before  human  relations  had  grown  complicated  and  dic- 
tionaries had  to  be  enlarged  correspondingly. 

In  illustration  of  this  Mueller  refers  to  the  verb  "to  be",  the  conjugations  of  which  in  Example: 

Sanscrit,  Lithunian,  and  Greek  are  strikingly  similar.    The  wealth  of  grammatical  forms  was  ^^^  ^^^^  '■*"  ^®-" 
produced  in  the  earliest  times.    Since  then,  as  far  back  as  languages  afford  opportunity  to 
observe  their  further  formations,  the  number  of  their  cases,  modes,  and  tenses  decreases.  The 

history  of  derived  languages,such  as  Latin  and  the  Germanic  languages,down  to  the  conglom-  original  wealth  of 

erate  of  the  English,  furnishes  a  remarkable  object-lesson  of  the  modifications  through  grammatical  forms. 

which  the  organism  of  a  language— once  powerful  and  rich  in  its  capability  to  express  the  Languages  weakening.  , 
finest  tints  of  emotion,  relations,  and  actions— becomes  gradually  weakened,  stiffened  and  im- 

poverished,  until  of  the  original  flexions  the  least  possible  traces  are  left."  and' expressin  gin  the 

All  this  speaks  in  favor  of  a  "delicacy  of  thinking  and  speaking  in  primeval  p"-evai  human  family. 
humanity,"  when  languages  were  pliant,  not  despite  but  because  of  their  strong 
sinews,  by  virtue  of  their  muscles.    They  were  well  rounded,  symmetrical,  and  musi-  Degeneracy  of  speeeh 
cal  in  their  cadences,  whilst  the  modern  languages  with  their  intermelding  of  vow-  tendency  at'ieaS'''''*' 
els,  silencing  of  consonants,  and  dropping  of  forms,  shrink,  figuratively  speaking,  part'of  cu^t'u^e'^"  '* 
into  comparative  skeletons. 

In  the  face  of  such  results  of  philological  research  it  would  have  been  proper  long  ago,  „^^    ,  . 

.^,-,  ,.,„  ,  ,  „,  .  ,  ..,.  ==1    Ethnology  concedes 

to  table  that  materialistic  dogma,  which,  for  the  sake  of  denying  the  spirit,  disparages  Ian-  such  a  decline  subse- 
guage  by  setting  up  an  ascending  ladder  of  speech  upon  the  base  of  a  most  beggarly  primer.  BüENouF.**^'^^*'*'TiK. 

We  mentioned  Burnouf 's  return  to  the  proposition  of  the  degeneracy  of  nations  subse- 
quent to  their  dispersion  into  conflicting  varieties.  We  then  added,  that  ethnology,  altho  hesi-  äfgen^r^acy"!"  §  41. 
tatingly,  concedes  such  a  decline  on  the  part  of  some  nations.     Martius,  for  instance,  accepts  Martius,  Lepsius, 
it  as  a  fact,  that  the  Botokudes  of  Brazil  are  degenerated  Chinamen.    Lepsius  admits  that  the 
Libyans  "have  sunk  into  negroes;"  and  Von  Loeben  judges  that  the  inhabitants  of  the  Canary 
Islands  represent  a  similar  case. 
17 


THE  BAD  IN  THE  DIVINE  PLAN  OF  HISTORY. 


n.  D.  CH.  11.  §.  112, 


Language  proves  the 
axiom  of  the  original 
unity  of  humanity 
and  subsequent  falling. 


Humanity  one  great 
lump  of  degeneracy. 


Depths  of  Satan 
uncovered. 

A  glance  afforded  into 
the  background  of  the 
drama ;  to  observe  the 
effects  of  tbe  Bad. 


No  excuse  as  that  of 
the  Thyatirans, 


Disowning  the  bad, 
renders  history 
incomprehensible. 


Crucifixion  proves 
God's  overruling  of 
Satan's  schemes; 
it  became  the  occasion 
of  his  self-betrayal 
and  self-destruction. 


The  Bad  in  the  plan  of 
history,     Dobneb. 

S  41,  43. 


The  Savior's  method  of 
relieving  humanity 
from  the  effects  of 
Satan's  workings. 

Death  in  its  empiric 
form. 

Effects  of  the  fall  upon 
the  condition  of  nature. 


Discord  in  the 
"perplexed  condition 
of  the  monads." 
LxmnTz. 


Involutions  instead  of 
undisturbed  evolution. 


Now,  since  ethnology  enlarges  upon  "products  of  degeneracy,"  or,  if  the  occasion 
requires,  upon  "relapses  into  the  original  state,"— why  not  be  consistent  and  adopt 
the  fall  to  begin  with,  since  the  probability  is  actually  admitted.  We  are  by  all 
indications  forced  to  stand  by  the  axiom  of  the  originally  high  position  and  unity 
of  humanity,  and  a  subsequent  histoiical  apostasy,  because  otherwise  it  is  not  so 
simple  as  evolutionism  imagines,  to  comprehend  humanity  as  a  whole  in  such  a 
condition,  as  it  was  found  at  the  time  of  the  fulfillment— one  large  lump  of  degen- 
eracy I  As  such  humanity  can  be  fully  conceived  only  in  contrast  with  "the  true 
man,"  whose  crucifixion  shows  a  depravity  below  the  moral  zero. 

§  112.  Yonder  crowd  of  national  representatives,  gathered  around  the  cross 
raised  in  their  midst,  exhibits  a  sample  of  the  product  of  degeneracy  concealed  under 
a  thin  cover  of  high  culture.  Now  and  here  alone  are  we  enabled  to  scrutinise  the 
nature  of  what  we  call  the  substratum  ;  here  alone  can  we  look  into  that  unearthly 
background  of  the  historical  drama  and  observe  the  effects  of  the  Bad  in  its  intensity 
and  to  its  full  extent. 

The  scene  enacted  upon  the  shaky  floor  of  the  stage  brings  to  view  the  plot  and 
the  plans  according  to  which  the  shifting  is  worked  by  contrivances  all  around, 
behind  the  wings,  below  the  drops,  above  the  bridges,  moved  by  powers  in  Heaven  on 
high  and  in  the  pit  below. 

There  is  no  longer  an  excuse  admissible  as  was  made  in  Thyatira,  that  the 
depths  of  Satan  were  not  known.    > 

The  agility  to  which  the  actors  are  instigated  from  below,  affords  an  introspect  into  the 
fathomless  abyss  and  into  incomparable  mysteries  (provided  that  these  heights  and  depths 
are  not  imagined  as  spatial  quantities). 

We  reiterate  that  history  is  rendered  comprehensible  no  further  than  we  recog- 
nise the  unseen  and  incalculable  concomitant  factors.  And  their  interaction 
never  came  to  the  surface  more  boldly  than  under  the  "cross."  In  that  which  the  cross 
discloses  we  see  no  frustration  of  the  preconceived  plan  of  history ;  on  the  contrary, 
every  word  and  act  had  to  aid  history  in  accomplishing  its  objects.  Of  so  much  we 
gain  indubitable  certainty,  that  the  Holy  Will  and  Wisdom  maintains  His  absolute 
rule  ;  that  the  rancor  burning  with  impotent  hostility  and  flaming  up  from  below  is 
only  admitted  for  a  definite  purpose.  Providence  employed  the  prince  of  darkness  as 
executioner  of  the  divine  verdicts,  as  the  most  befitting  manner  in  which  the  evil 
one  himself  should  divulge  to  the  world  the  infernal  wickedness  of  his  own  schemes 
and  at  the  same  time  destroy  his  successes. 

That  the  perfect  wisdom  of  the  plan  may  be  questioned  is  not  excluded,  since  to  Satan 
certain  powers  were  still  left,  and  since  his  advocates  work  additional  mischief  for  similar 
ends,  but  subject  to  the  overruling  Providence.  The  question  is  answered,  however,  most 
cogently  by  Dorner  in  his  "Ethics",  where  reasons  are  given,  why  this  plan  of  history  does  not 
exclude  the  possibility  of  the  Bad,  but  requires  it  without  making  it  a  shadow,  or  reverse 
side,  or  foil  of  the  Good. 

The  practical  gain  of  our  introspect  is  that  we  are  enabled  to  discern  the  sepa- 
ration of  the  elements,  to  watch  the  reduction  of  the  radicals  in  that  great  compound, 
that  medley— "product  of  degeneracy"  which  perpetuates  the  old  "sicut  dii." 

To  that  ethnical  body  fallen  among  murderers,  lying  prostrate  upon  the  desert 
in  agonies  of  death,  the  great  Healer  of  nations  at  the  divide  of  the  times  stoops 
down  and  attends  to  the  bleeding  gashes  with  oil  and  wine.  He  puts  Himself  in  its 
place  and  lifts  it  up  to  His  own.  For,  notwithstanding  the  rescue  from  sin  and  the 
ransom  of  deliverance,  the  final  issue  of  the  degradation  is  death.  The  entire  visible 
universe  writhes  under  the  convulsions  of  its  approach.  The  possibility  of  explain- 
ing empirical  death  is  given  nowhere  but  in  the  premise  of  an  abnormity  within 
this  world.  The  corporeal  body  of  man  is  taken  from  its  substance,  and  since  this 
could  no  longer  remain  in  its  nascent  state,  the  human  body  cannot.  A  discord  has 
been  struck  which  is  perceptible,  as  we  heard  Leibnitz  say,  in  the  perplexed  condi- 
tion of  the  "monads"  ;  or  as  we  now  say:  the  discord  is  to  be  conceived  as  the  subver- 
sion of  the  pure  mode  of  natural  existence  with  its  capacities  for  free  and  undis- 
turbed evolution.  The  physical  form  of  being  became  repressed  life  with  incalcul- 
ably complicated  involutions. 


II.  D.  CH.  II.  §  112.  SPIRIT  AND  SOUL  INSEPARABLE.  221 

From  the  moment  that  the  roots  of  human  nature  had  been  torn  from  the  ground  Mans  duai  nature. 
of  its  life,  the  totality  of  nature  was  rendered  subject  to  conflicting  processes.    As  '  '  " 

far  as  the  eye  can  perceive,  it  became  bound  up  into  the  form  of  materialised  stuff 
under  laws  of  dissolution.  Pardon  the  repetition:  Man's  external  being  in  his  mat- 
ter-bound state  is  rendered  transient  under  conditions  of  time  and  space.  Substan- 
tially the  unification  of  matter  and  mind  is  achieved  in  his  personality;  and  altho  possibility  of  death. 
separable,  this  union  was  intended  to  become  also  essential.  With  the  fall  the  inver- 
sion ensued  and  disintegration  set  in.  Body  and  mind  had  to  be  put  on  their  good 
behavior  toward  each  other. 

Since  the  spiritual  part  took  the  psychical  to  itself  in  an  indissoluble  blending,  in  a  mode  Reason  for  the 

•^  "^  *^  separability  of 

which  precluded  the  materialisation  of  the  spirit,  the  union  between  matter  and  mind  was  ren-  body  and  soui. 
dered  separable.    Thus  the  union  of  matter  and  spirit  by  means  of  the  soul  was  placed  mj^  ^   + 
under  probation.    It  was  made  obligatory  to  body  and  mind  to  take  good  care  one  of  principle  for  a 
the  other;  this  was  the  condition  in  attaining  to  the  state  of  glory  without  a  painful  obfigatory  duty 
rend,  whilst  default  in  harmonious  concurrency  with  this  rule  was  put  under  pen-  and  its  objective 
alty  of  death.    Upon  this  truth  rests  the  first  principle  of  obligation,  the  objectivity  wkb^^^  ^' 
of  duty  and  authority. 

Mind  and  body  were  placed  under  obligation  to  care  for  each  other  for  the  pur-  Necessity  of  the  ethicai 
pose  of  obtaining  the  "Supreme  Good"  by  way  of  the  ethical  process.    This  was  the  ^et^^een  sp^rand"*" 
single  necessity  enjoined  upon  man,  because  nothing  but  the  Supreme  Good  is  nee-  J°^y  ^^  "^f^^il  nfis. 
essary.  This  necessity,  however,  by  reason  of  its  inner  nature,  does  not  force  itself  upon 
man's  freedom.    It  waits  to  be  reverently  esteemed  and  lovingly  accepted,  in  the 
order  of  ethical  procedures.    Against  an  aberration  from  this  course  the  human  mind 
had  been  forewarned  under  penalty  of  dissolution.    The  necessity  of  the  Supreme 
Good  was  unnecessarily  misconceived  and  misapplied,  nevertheless,  and  a  necessity  False  application  of 
of  the  Secondary  Good  in  nature  was  substituted.    Through  the  forewarning  in  form  wltrrefe^nce  to^the 
of  a  simple  admonition  the  will  was  set  free  to  actuate  itself  in  option,  in  self determ-  seTnXry  goodTn 
ination  as  against  nature,  and  in  becoming  a  cause  of  its  own.  But  allowing  itself  to  "^Ys^i  lo.Tg! 43, 44, 46, 

^  ,    .  •  .  ■.  .I  ■•  •  ,  •  1  a  .,  54,  56,  57,  79,  95,  97,  98. 

be  influenced  by  inexperienced  reason,  the  wrong  direction  was  chosen  from  the 
start  and  the  will  lost  its  freedom  which  can  only  prosper  in  the  sphere  of  the  Su- 
preme Good.  Allured  into  a  false  desire  for  independency,  into  a  wrong  direction  of 
the  impulse  towards  perfection,  and  venturing  to  save  selfhood  from  the  obligations 
to  the  only  and  true  necessity,— in  an  arbitrary  assertion  of  the  dominion  over,  and 
independency  from,  nature— the  will  became  subject  to  natural  necessity,  at  the  same  y^^^^^^  ^^  ^^^ti^^ 
time  domineering  over  reason  to  the  detriment  of  both.    The  voluntary  cooperation  ?«  ^^'^y  an*  mind 

'^  ./  JT  thrown  out  of  gear  and 

of  body  and  mind  was  thrown  out  of  balance,  and  the  faculties  of  the  mind  into  dis-  ^^^  discord. 
cord,  whereby  the  ethical  progress  became  abruptly  arrested.    With  the  digression  Digression  from  the 
from  the  ethical  course  into  the  natural ,  the  break  took  place,  simply  because  the  the'naturaL ^  '*" 
Supreme  Good  was  not  "minded."     Mind  succumbed  to  a  large  extent  and  be- 
came entangled  in  sensuality. 

The  immediate  consequence  of  inverting  the  relations  between  necessity  and 
freedom  was  the  great  calamity,  fraught  with  separation  upon  separation,   and 
detachment  after  detachment.    Both  body  and  mind  had  to  suffer  under  it.    The  fontequ'lnieÄnr 
body,  addicted  to  matters  of  diversity,  must  partake  of  the  inverse  tendency  of 
repressed  life,  of  the  changes  of  the  material  forms.    As  to  the  soul  it  is  impossible  to  ^^^  .^^  ^^^  .^ 
conform  its  individuality  to  this  world  of  changes.  For  since  it  is  kept  in  the  embrace  nature  in  general. 
of  the  spiritual  part  of  the  mind,  it  has  become  a  member  of  that  oneness  of  the  spir-  soui  and  spirit 
itual  world,  which  stands  opposite  the  totality  of  natural  entities  in  their  general-  '"'^"^'"''^'y  TK  s,  is. 
ness,  and  can  not  be  affected  by  these  changes. 

The  soul,  after  once  being  assimilated  by  the  spirit  to  constitute  a  human  mind, 
can  no  longer  consubstantiate  itself  with  matter,  tho  on  account  of  its  intimate  cor- 
relation to  the  body  it  is  continuously  induced  to  gravitate  towards  the  material 
world.  The  soul,  thus  made  the  medium  ground  for  the  connection  of  spirit  and  mat- 
ter, is  "discontent"  in  the  literal  sense  of  the  term:  it  feels  as  if  it  could  not  "hold  severance  between  two 

worlds  goes  through 

together".    It  is  under  the  strain  of  its  two  poles.     Two  worlds  contend  for  the  soul:  human  nature. 
the  one  for  its  materialisation,  so  as  to  keep  it  in  the  state  which  we  called  nature- 
bound;  the  other  for  its  liberation  from  confinement,  in  order  to  elevate  it  to  com- 
plete spirituality. 


222 


Principal  constituents  ' 
of  human  nature  in 
conflict  and  in  abnormal 
relations. 


'Anxious  suspense." 


Chasm  between  the 
oneness  of  cosmical 
life  and  the  sphere  of 
"  essential  unity.  '      §  6. 

This  rupture  goes 
through  man  in  the 
first  place. 
It  means— death. 


Stretched  as  upon 
a  cross  of 

strained  rela- 
tions between 
"above"  and 
"below." 

Strain  between 
"right  and  left," 

("reflecting"  and 
"  unreflected 
consciousness.") 

§  8.  15,  37,  111,  121. 


Subconsciousness 
(unreflected;  located 
in  the  right  lobe  of  the 
brain. 

Inner  distractions 
allegorised  by  the 
emblem  of  the 
reconciliation. 


Definition  of  the  two 
forms  of  consciousness. 
§8,  15,  37,  111,221. 


Polarity  of  an  inter» 
psych  ico-spir  itual 
strain. 


Differences  between  the 
two  sets  of  strained 
relations  in  human 
nature. 


OppOsites  of 
"flesh  and  spirit.*' 


INKER  STRUCTURE  OF  THE  HUMAN  BEING.  IL  D.  CH.  II.  §  113. 

Thus  the  principal  constituents  of  human  nature  live  in  conflict  under  the  dread 
lest  distraction  may  terminate  in  complete  ruin  so  long  as  the  essential  unification 
under  the  obligation  of  ethical  assimilation  is  not  consummated.  This  is  the  full 
and  true  explanation  of  that  state  of  the  human  mind  which  Lotze  designated  the 
"anxious  suspense"  wherein  man  languishes.  This  is  what  we  meant  by  the  chasm 
between  the  physical  universe— constituting  the  oneness  of  earthly  life  and  belong- 
ing to  man  as  part  of  his  being  —and  the  invisible  world,  the  sphere  of  "formal 
unity."  The  break  between  the  worlds  above  and  below  is  manifest  in  man,  the  re- 
presentative and  child  of  both,  and  is  caused  by  his  departure  from  the  path  of  duty, 
to  his  own  mortification.  The  great  rupture  goes  through  his  being  in  the  first  place 
—it  means  death  I 

The  poor  sinner  sold  his  life  too  cheaply  when  he  thought  lightly  of  the  "Supreme 
Good".  Now  he  becomes  aware  of  the  deception,  of  the  seduction,  and  of  his  own 
apostasy.  He  becomes  perceptibly  aware  of  the  fatal  step,  when  he  traces  the  con- 
flict back  to  the  "warring  of  the  law  in  his  members  against  the  law  of  the  spirit." 
He  appears  to  himself  as  if  stretched  out  upon  a  cross  of  strained  relations  between 
matter  and  mind. 

§  113.  This  exposition,  resting  on  empirical  data  well  known  to  everybody,  in- 
involves  and  also  explains  another  still  deeper  strain  in  the  relation  of  man  himself 
to  his  "innermost  soul."  Once  before  we  spoke  of  this  under  the  caption  "reflecting 
and  unreflected  consciousness."  Now  we  come  to  understand  a  little  more  of  it. 
The  polarity  of  our  being  with  reference  to  the  deeper  and  inner  phenomena  of  our 
duplex  nature  is  just  as  intense  and  real,  as  the  tension  between  mind  and  matter, 
altho  we  feel  it  less  acutely.  We  described  the  first  set  of  polar  strain  between  (1.)  mat- 
ter and  mind  as  playing  between  above  and  below.  Now,  provided  that  spatial  adverbs 
used  in  the  attempt  at  fixing  phenomena  in  their  theoretical  order  are  not  pressed 
too  hard,  we  locate  this  second  manifestation  of  polarity  playing  between  (2.)  the  dual 
form  of  consciousness  itself  to  the  right  and  left!  The  arrangement  will  not  conflict 
with  the  findings  of  our  friends  in  the  Medical  profession,  who  seem  to  be  persuaded, 
that  sub-  (our  unreflected)  consciousness  is  to  be  localised  in  the  right  lobe  of  the 
brain. 

At  any  rate,  the  most  distinct  of  interrelations  between  the  two  sets  of  strain 
justify  our  allegorising  man's  inner  distractions  with  the  symbol  of  the  crucifixion. 

Considering  the  poles  of  tension  just  alluded  to,  we  must  refer  to  the  dual  mode 
in  which  consciousness  manifests  itself,  as  "reflecting"  and  "unreflected"  (or  sub-) 
consciousness,  in  its  day-side  and  night-side  as  the  Germans  used  to  denote  the  clever 
distinction. 

We'have  chosen  the  term  "unreflected"  because  (tho  this  side  of  consciousness  in  its 
peculiar  way  can  think,  remember  and  recog'nise  and  even  reveals  itself)  its  functions  are  very 
rarely,  and  the  process  of  them  never,  reflected  in  our  usual  frame  of  mind. 

Consciousness  in  its  incipient  state  was  essentially  a  unit,  altho  dualistically  dis- 
posed, (angesetzt)  in  keeping  with  man's  double  relationship.  By  force  of  the  fall  this 
tender  cord  of  the  unity  of  consciousness  (in  which  two  worlds  were  focussed)  broke  (zersetzt) 
so  that  now  man  is  placed  under  the  affliction  of  a  very  mysterious,  but  very  real  polar  ten- 
sion, or  inter-psychico-spiritual  strain. 

The  difference  between  this  and  the  former  polarity  consists  first  in  this,  that  the  poles 
causing'  the  strained  interrelations  of  consciousness— the  most  intense  and  purely  spiritual- 
are  lying  entirely  inside  of  man,  in  his  "innermost  soul." 

This  inner  life  does  not  depend  upon  sense-perceptions  from  the  outside  or  physical 
world  for  its  contents,  and  is  therefore  out  of  peril  from  physical  abnormities. 

We  here  gain  an  aspect  of  great  significance :  Not  only  the  tension  between  above  and 
below,  matter  and  mind,  but  also  this  newly  discovered  tension  between  right  and  left  in  the 
inner  life,  as  pertaining  to  the  forms  of  consciousness,  goes  through  man,  through  and 
through. 

(2)  This  condition  renders  another  difference,  between  the  two  pairs  of  opposite  poles 
conspicuous. 

By  the  break  between  above  and  below  the  body,  now  seat  of  the  "flesh",  militates  against 
the  spirit.  This  causes  the  ethical  strain,  pertaining  to  the  wiiiL,  to  active  earthly  life; 
whilst  the  other  break,  manifest  in  consciousness  and  independent  of  externalities,  concerns 
only  personal  life  in  its  relations  to  the  spiritual  worlds.  Hence  this  break  lies  not  in  the  do- 
main of  the  will  and  is  out  of  its  reach.  It  pertains  to  the  fundamental  part  of  personal  life, 
to  the  essence  of  human  nature ;  it  belongs  to  the  purely  psychico-spiritual  life,  to  the  sphere 


II  D.  CU.  IL  Ö  il4.  COSMICAL  SIGNIFICANCE  OF  THE  RESURRECTION.  223 

of  the  EMOTION,  and  its  form  is  passiveness.  This  strain  has  no  ethical  but  a  pronounced 
BEIjIGIO-intelIjECTUAIj  bearing'.  All  these  phases  of  the  inner  life  vary  in  their  manifesta- 
tions, inasmuch  as  each  side  of  consciousness  acts  differently  through  the  day  and  during 
health,  from  what  it  does  through  the  night,  during  sleep  or  sickness. 

Now  all  these  tensions  affect  the  cosmos  in  an  analogus  manner,  because  it  is  the  Tensions 
periphery  of  man,  its  center,  to  whom  it  belongs.    Both,  man  as  the  world  in  minia-  transmitted"to 
ture,  as  the  epitome  or  extract  of  the  great  visible  universe,— and  the  cosmos  with  its  the  cosmos  as  to 
history  (which  is  the  macrocosmos  of  man,  or  man  unfolded)  stand  in  the  relation  of    ^^  p^^'^p  I*"^-  ^^ 
solidarity,  of  reciprocal  sympathy;  they  stand  in  a  peculiar  rapport  with  each  other. 

Personal  and  cosmical  life  mutually  partake  of  each  others  disturbances  and  vi- 
cissitudes.   Man  on  the  part  of  his  body,  born  from  the  physical  elements— with ,        MvJm^' 
whom  his  own  propensity  involved  him  deeper  than  their  nourishing  him  made  it  (spirit) 

necessary— also  dies  of  them,  and  sinks  back  into  them.    His  death  predicts  the  ulti-    consciousness- 
mate  fate  of  the  universe;  for  it  partakes  also  of  this  inevitable  consequence  of  the  extek- 

separation.  "reflect-    life       "unre- 

ing"  with    fleeted." 

Here  the  universal,  the  cosmical  significance  of  the  Mediator's  representative  ^J.^^r  j;he^    life. 
death  comes  to  full  view.  „-      ^ni:      - 

Recep-     Active;      Intui- 

"The  cross  with  its  four  extensions  marking  out  four  extremes  which  stretch  forth  from  emoti-   ^cm!     onal 
the  center  where  they  meet  at  right  angles— this  cross  teaches  us  that  He,  who  had  consecrated  i 

Himself  to  die  at  the  time  when  He  was  stretched  out  upon  it.  is  the  very  same  who  holds  the  (flesh) 

universe  bound  up  within  Himself.    Harmoniously  He  connects  all  within  Himself,  uniting  MATTER. 

the  different  natures  of  things  into  one  well  arranged  whole.  Since  the  entire  creation  looks 
upon  Him,  surrounds  Him,  and  has  its  connections  in  Him ;  since  that  above  and  that  below, 
and  that  on  both  sides  is  all  related  each  to  another  through  Him :  it  does  not  suflBce  that  we 
are  led  to  the  knowledge  of  God  only  through  the  sense  of  hearing,  but  vision  also  should  be- 
come a  teacher  of  those  sublime  cognitions. 

With  this  expostulation  Gregory  of  Nyssa  expresses  the  truth  that,  and  tries  to  cosmicai 
explain  why,  the  physical  death  of  the  visible  form  in  the  center  of  all  things  was  to  tift^Sonem  *rft 
be  taken  as  a  typical  occurrence,  prototypical  of  the  fate  and  destiny  of  the  peri- 
pheral cosmos. 

By  entering  this  world,  our  house  of  mourning,  by  assuming  our  body,  this  ve-  §;?°*«^'°^^  ^^  ^^^ 
hide  of  death,  by  suffering  death  Himself,  the  Crucified  One  adjudged  and  condemned 
death  itself  as  that  which  ought  not  to  be.    He  overcomes  and  abolishes  death  in  al- 
lowing it  to  exhaust  its  rage  against  Him,  upon  whom  it  had  no  claim,  because  of 
His  purity  and  uninterrupted  connection  with  God,  with  men,  and  with  nature. 

What,  therefore,  Christ  accomplished  while  suffering  death,  bears  as  much  of  a  Death  of  the  Mediator 
physical  as  of  a  religious  significance,  since  thereby  also  a  physical  transformation  demise  o/the  universe. 
is  initiated.    Of  still  greater  cosmical  import  is  His  resurrectfon,  inasmuch  as  the  Transition  from  the 
glorification  eradiating  from  the  body  of  the  Redeemer  and  His  saved  ones,  extends  ethTca'i''^"'*^**'  *''*' 
through  the  whole  cosmos,  which  is  but  the  periphery  of  that  central  body.    From  significance 

,   .  .  .  „  .  „  ,  .  of  the  atoning  death. 

this  exalted  view  into  the  realms  of  the  eternal  reality  of  glory  and  beatitude  we 
now  return  to  trace  out  other  premises  for  further  conclusions  with  reference  to  the 
redeeming  virtue  of  the  sacrifice  in  the  middle  of  the  times  and  of  the  nations,  where 
the  historical  macrocosmos  centers,  together  with  the  natural  cosmos. 

§114.    The  word:  "Ye  shall  be  as  gods"  affords  a  deep  insight.    Ever  since  its  The  two  chief  branches 
first  utterance  attempts  have  never  ceased  to  make  that  promise  good  and  true.    In  °*  *''^  ''"'"^°  *^'""^" 
pursuance  of  the  attempted  fulfillment  an  array  of  hostile  camps  deploys  before  our 
view,  which  in  its  well  drilled  lines  and  frequently  renewed  attacks  represents  history 
as  one  continuous  warfare,  and  the  world  as  the  battle  field. 

A  pious  Tace,  that  of  Seth,  bearer  of  the  cult  and  of  pure  traditional  religion  and  g^^-^^.^.  ^^n,.  ^^^t^^^ 
religious  recollections,  stands  opposite  the  Cainite  race   given  to  worldly  culture,  cainites:  cuuüre^^  .^^^ 
The  latter  starts  out  with  a  selfmade,  more  convenient  religion,  substituting  an  un- 
bloody offering,  and  sacrificing  to  its  own  envy  a  very  bloody  one.    The  one  race  is 
centripetal  and  centrally  inclined,  whilst  the  other  is  peripheral  and  centrifugal— 
and  falls  asunder. 

Through  the  central  race  the  peripherally  inclined  race  should  have  been  kept  to- 
gether, guided  by,  and  in  keeping  with,  the  advices  given  in  the  common  family  tra-    , 
dition.   But  a  periphery  anon  disengages  itself,  taking  its  own  way  of  realising  the  in- 
herited ideas  of  dominion,  freedom,  and  propagation.    The  complications  begin,  the 
knot  becomes  tightened.    Memorable  traditions  of  the  parental  home  follow  the 


Universal 
revelation.       §  9. 

Perversion  of  original 
consciousness ; 
misunderstanding 
traditional  symbolism; 
"heirlooms." 

Center  of  cohesion. 
World-empire,  with 
outspolcen  intent  to 
retain  also  dominion 
in  Heaven. 

Birth  of  paganism; 
determined  as  to  self- 
salvation  through 
self -culture. 

General 
revelation. 

Covenant  with  Noah. 
Universe  included. 

Special 
revelation. 

Covenant  with  Abraham. 


Intensified 
religion : 

under  pressure  of 
paganism. 


FOUR 
INSCRIPTIONS  : 

perpetuating  the  plan  of 

universal 

history. 


1.  Genealogical 
table 

of  nations.       Gen.  10, 

JOH  V.  MiLLXB. 


All  other  nations  claim 
their  prerogative  to  be 
emanated  from 
specific  deities. 

LJurOBMAST. 


STAGES  OF  REVELATION.  II.  D.  Ch.  II.  §  115. 

exiles;  they  are  haunted  by  the  reproaches  of  the  murdered  son  and  brother  associated 
with  those  memories.  Against  the  ghastly  horror  of  strict  retribution,  against  the 
fear  of  getting  lost,  and  in  imitation  of  the  ingrained  necessity  of  unity,  a  kingdom 
of  the  world  is  organised.  Despite  the  broken  union  with  God  and  kin-folks,  the  in- 
tent to  retain  dominion  over  the  earth  and  in  Heaven  is  proclaimed  with  undaunted 
impertinency.     Thus  paganism  is  perfected.    Paganism  is  determined  to  save  itself. 

By  this  time,  after  about  two  thousand  years  of  conscious  resistance,  the  world  of  the 
periphery  has  not  forgotten,  but  viciously  subverted  what  was  universally  known  to  be  the 
relation  of  man  to  God.  Another  two  thousand  years  of  scoffing  and  godlessness  pass  away, 
not  faster  than  now,  and  not  less  filled  with  progress,  commotion,  decay;  only  with  this  differ- 
ence, that  original  vitality  and  talents  weaken.  We  alluded  to  the  time  when  general  re- 
velation, given  in  the  line  of  Seth,  began  with  the  covenant  with  Noah  and  ended  with  that 
of  Abraham.  During  this  period  religious  consciousness  was  protected  in  a  narrowing 
circle,  while  continual  apostasies  toward  the  dark,  deep,  and  solid  substratum  of  paganism 
persisted  in  preparing  one  religious  mixture  after  another,  always  shaping  culture  in  keep- 
ing with  the  character  of  the  cult.  And  the  religion  op  the  narrowing  circle  was  perpet- 
uated   IN   THE    VISIONARY,     SYMBOLICAL    AND    HISTORICAL    WAY,    WITHOUT    A    BIBLE,    without 

another  cult  but  offering  sacrifices  and  prayers,  keeping  sacred  the  family-palladium  of  the 
promises,  obeying  and  confessing  God,  that  is,  preaching  His  Name. 

On  the  periphery  the  valuable  remnants  of  traditionary  and  symbolic  religiousness  be- 
came formal,  solidified  and  materialistic. 

In  the  narrow  circle  religion  became  intensified,  and  kept  the  mind  prepared  and  sus- 
ceptible for  the  reception  of  special  revelation.  This  began  in  Abraham's  household,  and 
was  documentarily  fixed  through  Moses.  In  order  to  set  free  the  ethical  potencies,  the  law 
was  added  to  the  promise,  and  the  word  was  added  to  the  few  symbolic  signs.  Humanity  in 
general  was  included  for  whose  benefit  this  special  revelation  was  thus  to  be  preserved  until 
its  necessity  should  have  become  palpable  to  the  world  of  the  periphery.  Different  stages  in 
the  circle  of  revela,tion  are  plainly  marked,  as  for  instance  the  development  of  the  cultus  on 
the  score  of  hieratic,  ethico-prophetical,  and  royal  preponderance.  On  the  score  of  ritualistic 
and  formalistic  deformation,  interchanging  with  reformations,  the  keeping  up  the  cultural 
life  depends  upon  the  exercise  of  discipline  and  giving  solace.  Under  pressure  of  the  pagan 
world,  incurred  as  punishment  for  sympathising  and  mixing  with  it,  revealed  religion  be- 
comes intensified,  and  is  spiritually  and  ethically  applied,  preparatory  to  receiving  the  highest 
gift  from  the  Most  High.  Then  the  "Word"  appears—  to  a  very  small  circle  of  souls  with  pure 
religiousness   and  exceptional  spirituality. 

§  115.  Inside  of  this  closed,  concentric,  and  strictly  secluded  circle  of  special 
revelation  we  meet  with  four  inscriptions  of  universal  purport. 

These  four  inscriptions  were  to  preserve  the  plan  of  the  historic  movement.  With 
this  object  in  view,  the  plan  was  deposited  for  safe  keeping  in  the  book  of  the  na- 
tions—entrusted to  the  most  separatistic  of  all  nations. 

These  four  inscriptions  deserve  more  attention  than  is  generally  paid  to 
them.  Viewed  now  —from  our  position  at  the  feet  of  the  Son  of  Man  lifted  up  on  the 
cross  with  outstretched  arms,— their  meaning  can  be  fully  comprehended.  They  are 
instructive.  They  contain  the  germinal  type  of  the  philosophy  of  universal  history. 
Let  us  read  them,  one  by  one. 

In  the  first  place  there  is  raised  the  ethnological  or  genealogical  table,  the  most 
remarkable  historical  document  extant,  "in  which— as  Joh.  von  Miller  observed- 
history  has  its  beginning,  and  of  which  the  present  condition  of  the  ethnical  world  is 
as  yet  the  commentary." 

As  yet  we  are  not  enabled  to  substantiate  which  of  the  ethnographical  boundary  lines 
are  clearly  mapped  out,  and  in  what  manner  all  nations  upon  the  face  of  the  earth  are  rep- 
resented in  this  genealogy.  We  are  justified,  however,  in  supposing  that  this  historical 
survey,  dividing  the  substance  of  humanity  into  the  ternate  of  Hamites,  Semites,  and  Japhe- 
tites,  affords  the  foundation  as  well  as  the  ground  plan  for  the  scientific  construction  of 
history.  Here  indeed  lies  the  first  great  land-record  open  before  us,  showing  the  possessor's 
titles  and  the  nationality  of  the  permanent  settlers.  No  nation  possesses  such  an  index  of 
humanity,  and  such  a  land-record  of  nations.  Where  anything  similar  is  met,  it  does  not 
surpass  the  impartiality  of  this  document  without  a  sign  of  any  national  prejudice  whatever. 
Here  we  have  a  truly  international  pedigree  which  is  prescribed  and  handed  down  from 
above.  Here  in  plain  words  are  the  terms  fixed  according  to  which  history  begins  and  ends. 
We  are  shown  the  race  as  dispersed  after  the  great  flood,  but  still  as  branches  of  one  family. 

"The  Genealogical  Tables"  in  a  comprehensive  manner  reveal  the  magnanimity  of  the 
sacred  books  of  Israel  as  compared  with  those  of  other  ancient  nations.  The  best  philosophers 
do  not  reach  that  height,  whenever  they  have  to  deal  with  the  reciprocal  relations  of  the 
diverse  parts  of  humanity."  Lenormant,  in  his  "Origines  de  '1  histoire.  II,  bases  this  opinion 
upon  the  correct  inference,  that  the  centrifugal  parts  of  humanity  ascribe  their  national  pre- 
eminence to  the  fact  ^f  being  emanations  of  particular  gods ;  whilst  in  this  nation  of  the  center 
they  are  all  recognised  as  the  children  of  One. 


II  D.  CH.  IL  §  115.  THE  PROTOTYPE  OF  THE  PSEUDO-CHURCH.  225 

Here  the  oneness  of  the  root,  from  which  all  are  said  to  have  been  sprouted,  was  to  catholicity  of 

*"  '  revealed  religion. 

be  affirmed  by  the  unique  blossom  that  should  appear  in  due  season  to  the  joy  of  all, 
for  the  benefit  of  all,  and  intercession  for  all.    To  that  crown  the  line  points,  which,  unity  of  humanity. 
like  a  vein  of  precious  metal  running  through  the  wild  mountain  chain,  runs  U""»"«««««  *>*  «»<>• 
through  the  ethnical  mass  here  reduced  to  generic  order. 

We  pass  on  to  the  second  inscription  which  narrates  the  very  fact  which  from  a  n.  Babylonian 
thousand  indications  of  our  own  experience  we  could  not  help  to  propose  by  way  of  E^.bfem'of  godless 
conjecture.    Ethnological  analysis  forced  the  very  items  upon  our  conviction,  which  D^Sosing  the  cause 
we  now  find  as  the  contents  of  the  second  table,  answering  our  postulate  of  an  op-  dipersS.""  *°*^   §  4i 
position  and  a  dispersion.    Under  date  of  Babel,  which  the  book  of  nations  alone  has  worw-Monarch  and 
preserved  in  proper  connection,  we  find  the  crisis  described  which  we  supposed  to  o^6*n«ed  apostasy. 
have  taken  place.    We  read  of  the  disrupture  of  human  unity.    A  new  and  deeper  fall  under  date  of  Babei. 
ensues.    A  new  evolution  begins  with  a  preconcerted  revolution,  which  proved  a  mad 
devolution,  a  disastrous  retrogression.    We  read  of  a  judgment  so  effective  as  to  con- 
fuse the  conspirators  in  their  attempt  to  systematise  "emancipation  of  the  flesh",  and 
to  organise  heathenism,  the  apparatus  of  self  salvation. 

The  building  of  the  high  tower,  emblem  of  godless  culture,  brings  the  curse  down 
which  scatters  the  culturists  themselves  into  building^  debris.    They  form  the  pell- 
mell  of  nations  which  is  so  difficult  to  be  brought  into  any   order  again.    The  curse  Paroi  formulated  after 
came  down  in  answer  to  the  rebellious  parole  given  out,  which  at  the  beginning  had  "ehus  sTut  du." 
been  thrown  into  the  human  heart.    It  is  the  lie,  that  man,  out  of  his  own  resources, 
through  mere  intellectual  and  worldly  culture  could  attain  to  the  nature  of  a  god. 

Previously  we  endeavored  to  show  the  end  for  which  the  formation,  or  the  veroci-  proper  motives  of 
ous  annexations,  or  rather  the  weldings  of  states  into  colossal  world-monarchies  p***^'^^^  ^"''^"Yis,  79. 
might  have  been  undertaken.  Here  we  detect  the  motives  which  inadvertently  prompt  united  defence  to 
and  favor  such  conglomerations.    The  necessity  was  felt  that  in  protection,  against  ginned  by  coo^ratTve 
the  common  foes,  and  for  the  sake  of  co-operation,  unity  must  be  kept  up.    Another  '"'P''»^«'^«^* 
motive  was  the  inherent  remembrance  of  the  duty  to  cultivate,  possess,  and  rule  over  Dominion  over  nature. 
the  earth.    Still  another  was  the  legitimate  maintenance  of  independence,  selfcul-  seif-cuiture, 
ture  and  self  government.    Motives  like  these  were  proper  and  even  obligatory  in  the  '^"■e°^^'^°™*''*- 
ethical  process.    Now,  in  their  distortions,  they  only  augment  mischief  and  misery. 
The  undertaking  seems  to  bear  the  noble  features  of  normal  aspiration  to  unity  and 
security  in  a  world  of  change,  and  struggle,  and  enmity.    It  demonstrates  the  neces- 
sity of  a  center  for  meeting  in  reunion,  of  a  center  of  cohesion  in  the  well  founded 
fear  of  getting  lost  in  the  wide  world  to  be  established  as  a  home  amidst  the  shattered 
condition  of  things.    But  the  erection  of  the  emblem  of  haughty  defiance,  the  found.  Necessity  for  people  to 
ing  of  a  counter-religion  with  a  "name,"  of  the  organised  defiance  prototypical  of  the  Anti-  of 'geffi^iostTn  th" 
Christ,  the  scheme  to  gain  Heaven,  while  at  the  same  time  retaining  a  world  of  ^'^^  ^""^'^  "*  ^'^^'^''*y- 
wickedness  in  spite  of  God  — became  the  occasion  for  open  insurrection,  and  for  a  dis- 
persion so  much  the  worse,  in  penalty  of  wilfully  subverting  all  the  motives  of  ethical 
advance. 

In  this  beginning  of  premeditated  worldliness  we  find  the  basis  exposed  upon  SerTt^laance'. 
which  the  great  Asiatic  empires  were  founded,  where  patriarchal  authority  changed 
into  tyrannical  despotism.    It  is  marked  by  that  haughtiness  which  dares  to  set  God 
aside.  Man,  under  plea  of  independence,  in  compliance  with  the  first  instigation  of  Tubve^H^Äto  Asutfc 


the  "sicut  dii",   aspires  at  selfadoration  and  selfdeification.     His  wordly  culture  *^^*p°*"™       §56,172. 

is  calculated  to  secure  him  the  honor  of  having  improved  upon  the  first  creation,  seifdeification; 

One  collapse  after  the  other  notwithstanding,  the  attempt  is  repeated  to  such  an  deification  of  culture. 

extent  that  even  the  Mediator  was  met  by  a  temptation  of  that  nature.    But  each  Despite  the  exemplary 

of  these  monster  empires,  shedding  streams  of  blood,  in  pursuance  of  dominion  were*rep"eS^  ****"^** 

under  pretense  of  seeking  human  welfare,  will  only  have  to  serve  either  one  of  the 

spiritual  spheres.    Whether  willingly  or  not,  knowingly  or  not,  this  thirst  of  power 

must  ultimately  serve  the  purpose  and  further  the  interest  of  the  spiritual  kingdom 

of  deliverance.    At  Babel  for  the  first  time  we  hear  the  boast  of  high  civilisation  boLt'of'hilh 

with  riot  and  anarchism  at  the  bottom.    The  humiliating  chastisement  is  designed 

to  demonstrate  forever  the  utter  folly  of  misdirected  aspirations  to  vainglory.    The  Foiiy  of  misdirected 

terrible  event  was  intended  to  be  a  warning  for  all  time  to  come;  as  such  it  so  far  has  ÄÄ'demonstrated. 

remained  proverbial. 


For  the  first  time : 


civilisation"  with 
anarchism  at  the  bottom. 


226 


III.  "Image  of 
the  Monarchies. 

f  13,  131. 


Reasons  why  old 
interpretations  missed 
the  meaning  of  this 
visionary  monument. 


True  meaning: 

The  metal  of  which  the 
civilisation  of  humanity 
must  not  be  composed ; 


Danger-signal  against 
a  false  course  of 
progress,  against 
overestimating  worldly 
culture. 

Whenever  culture 
displaces  cultus  a 
catastrophe  is  fast 
approaching. 


The  true,  quiet 
preparation  for,  and 
normal  cooperation  at, 
the  advent  of  the 
God-man. 


rV.  Pentecost. 

Significance  of  the 
record  in  its  bearing 
on  the 

unity  of 
humanity, 

and  upon  a  new 
civilisation  to  eiisue; 
record  corresponding  to 
the  first  record  of 


Those  once  estranged 
now  gathered  in  the 

"House  of  God/' 

In  contrast  to  the 

Tower  of  Babel 

and  dispepsion. 


Resurrection  of  human 
unity  once  hurried 
under  the  ruins  of 
B«b«l. 


contrast:  BABYLONIAN  REALMS  AND  THE  CHURCH.       II  D.  Ch.  II  §  115. 

Further  on  the  third  monument  presents  its  object-lessons:  the  "Image  of  the  Mon- 
archies", so  called.  Historic  study,  whatever  there  was  of  it  in  the  Middle- Ages,  was 
divided  as  to  the  number  of  Daniel's  world-monarchies.  They  were  thought  to 
include  the  world  of  nations  in  general.  We  do  not  find  that  much  in  the  vision,  or 
perhaps  more.  Of  the  substructure  —consisting  of  the  Turano-Mongolians,  then  almost 
sunk  out  of  sight  into  the  night  of  solidified  darkness,— the  picture  which  Daniel  saw 
and  described  shows  no  trace.  It  also  ignores  the  ethnological  structure  of  the  culti- 
vated nations  in  general.  In  fact,  this  hieroglyph  refers  to  that  province  of  worldly  cul- 
ture pure  and  simple,  which  keeps  up  special  relations  with  the  people  of  God,  without  adopt- 
ing, in  exchange,  the  promises  deposited  in  the  intermediating  organisation,  and  which  even 
turns  the  heads  of  the  chosen  people  to  adopt  the  worldliness  of  God's  outspoken  enemies.  The 
rejection  of  the  divine  goodness  for  the  sake  of  worldly  alliances  causes  the  ruin  of 
their  own  culture. 

If  these  coincidences  are  taken  into  consideration,  then  the  third  table  reveals 
more  than  the  first.  It  reveals  the  condemnation  of  that  kind  of  culture  which  detracts  man 
from  God  and  leads  into  the  historic  declivity.  The  value  of  the  earthly  components  diminish- 
ing from  gold  to  clay  is  to  warn  those  initiated  into  divine  secrets  against  the  growing  ten- 
dency to  overestimate,  admire,  and  to  ape,  perhaps,  a  culture  which  has  been  compared  to  a 
cheap  polish,  daubed    upon  a  smooth  surface  as  a  means  of  deception. 

It  is  a  fatal  error  to  mistake  cultural  progress  for  what  the  book  of  the  nations  terms 
the  glory  of  God.  Worldly  culture  has  its  value  as  an  embellishment  or  in  its  usefulness ;  in 
its  place  it  is  good  as  belonging  to  the  domain  of  the  relative  goods  of  creation.  But  to  slight 
the  Supreme  Good,  in  preference  of  things  lying  upon  the  periphery,  causes  that  pride  which 
precedes  the  crash  every  time,  When  a  nation  is  in  its  prime,  on  the  height  of  so  called  re- 
finement, when  culture  takes  the  place  of  cultus,  then  the  catastrophe  is  always  fast  approach- 
ing. At  the  time  and  place  of  which  our  figure  speaks,  the  inverted  scale  of  valuation  had  ar- 
rived at  its  lowest  degree,  where  the  cleft  appears  in  its  awful  steepness;  where  the  abyss  is 
not  screened  in  the  least,  whilst  the  "advent"  is  near.  The  cleft  rendered  obvious  by  the  con- 
trast lies  between  that  culture  which  on  the  one  side,  struts  out  to  the  extremest  peri- 
phery, and  the  other  which  cultivates  the  concentrative  disr»ositions  of  the  mind.  The  one 
pervades  the  whole  plain  and  in  its  rapid  progressiveness  flattens  out  into  all  directions  and 
details  of  training,  money-making  and  luxuriousness,  and  soon  exhausts  itself;  the  other 
measures  all  thoughts  and  acts  according  to  their  nearness  to  God,  the  center  of  all  relations 
and  of  all  matters  historical. 

In  proportion  to  the  spread  and  growth  of  worldly  culture,  symbolised  in  the 
abundance  of  the  base  minerals  in  the  image,  the  better  class  of  culture  had  dimin- 
ished; the  gold  of  fidelity  to  the  God  once  honored  and  known,  had  become  as  scarce 
as  outward  prosperity.  Under  the  fostering  care  of  the  benign  hand  on  high,  some 
thing  had  grown,  nevertheless.  It  was  the  intense  desire,  animating  some  lowly  and 
oppressed,  yet  patriotic  and  pious  people,  that  the  promise  might  be  fulfilled.  This  is 
the  sort  of  cultivation  which  prepares  for  the  reception  of  exceedingly  greater  things 
than  could  ever  have  been  expected  or  imagined.  It  was  the  outstretched  hand  of 
faith  which  is  sure  to  have  its  petition  granted.  This  experience  of  the  truth  of  reve- 
lation, in  the  fulfillment  of  promises  comes  only  in  answer  to  such  prayer,  tho  it 
may  be  offered  most  unostentatiously  by  a  poor  relative  of  ancient  nobility,  tho  of 
a  house  not  so  pure  as  not  to  contain  some  gentile  blood. 

And  now  we  arrive  at  the  fourth  record,  one  of  specific  interest  to  philologists. 
We  are  better  than  ever  prepared  to  appreciate  its  contents.  This  document  corre- 
sponds with  the  first  record  of  nations.  It  treats  of  a  new  brotherhood,  praying  in 
unison  for  fulfillment.    See  how  the  desire  is  granted. 

Confusion  of  language  and  dispersion  of  nations  are  going  to  be  ameliorated. 
Those  once  dispersed  are  gathered  in  the  house  of  God.  The  heartrending  discord  is 
solved  by  the  harmony  of  new  tongues  aflame  with  divine  fervency,  testifying  to  the 
truth  and  grace  of  the  Mediator,  and  also  signifying  the  resurrection  of  the  unity  of 
the  human  family  once  buried  under  the  ruins  of  Babel. 

The  occasion  on  which  the  gift  of  this  new  coefiicient  of  history  miraculously 
came  down  in  flames,  conveys  also  a  typical  import.  It  throws  light  upon  each  mem- 
ber of  this  family  of  a  new  blood-relationship  in  a  double  sense.  The  event  cele- 
brates the  birthday  of  new-born  children  of  God  and  their  gathering  into  the  unity  of 
a  regenerated  humanity.  The  occasion  furnishes  the  pledge  from  on  high  that  for 
those  thus  united  the  great  chasm  is  bridged.  The  arches  of  the  bridge  are  to  be 
sprung  the  world  over  from  both  shores  of  the  ocean  of  time.  Full  and  intimate  com- 
munion of  both  worlds  is  established  and  is  to  remain. 


II.  D.  Ch.  III.  §  116.  THE  HUMAN  FAMILY  AND  ITS  HISTORIC  PROGRAM.  227 

The  main  object  of  Pentecost  was  not  to  restore  original  language,  the  lost  center  of  all  Main  object  not 
languages.    A  fancy  for  Pentecost  on  that  score  would  but  indicate  the  recurring  tendency  language— no'  "n' thT^ 
toward  the  peripheral  culture.    Max  Mueller  tried  to  find  the  lost  center  there,  since  he  be-   interest  of  peripheral 
lieved,  that  the  "Aryan,  Semitic,  and  Turanian  evidently  show  a  convergence  toward  a  com-   M.  Muellkb,  Bubkouf. 
mon  source/'    Burnouf  thought  that  "hidden  but  real  relations  exist  between  the  Semitic  Ian-  *  ^^^' 

guages  and  Sanskrit."    This,  however,  is  all  irrelevant. 

When  the  Spirit  from  above  kindled  the  lights;  when  the  secrets  of  the  human 
family  were  disclosed  in  their  depths,  and  were  expressed  in  ardent  praises  going  j^ 
heavenward  in  the  fire  of  spiritual  offerings  of  first  fruit,— it  was  not  the  resurrec-  not  u.  perpetuate 
tion  of  something  old,  but  it  was  the  enactment  of  the  new  covenant.    The  new  hymn  modes'Tf  nfr^*° 
intonated  on  earth  in  answer  to  the  gift,  as  understood  by  all  the  listeners  around  the 
witnesses  and  heralds  of  the  King  of  Kings,  gave  thanks  for  more  than  ever  had  been 
hoped  for  on  earth.    What  was  given  was  received  as  the  fulfillment  of  promises  Genesis  of  a  new 
given  in  ages  past;  but  it  equally  was  the  pledge  and  type  of  an  ideal  yet  to  be  real-  Founding  of  the  church, 
ised,  of  the  only  promise  left  to  be  fulfilled  in  the  future  at  the  goal  of  a  new  process  Fuimiment  of  aiithe 
of  development  thus  begun.    In  its  typical  import  the  event  initiates  and  illumins  p'°™''^''  '^^^  ""«• 
the  new  aeon  of  the  universal  transfiguration.     For  the  new  structure  in  which,—  as  a  new  and  last 
just  as  in  the  old  nation  and  covenant  alone  revelation  was  received  and  preserved,—  ?yPof  the  ultimate 
the  plan  and  the  goal  of  destiny  and  the  new  order  of  the  world  are  to  be  preserved  *'^*nsfieuration. 
and  realised:  for  this  new  structure  the  foundation  is  laid.    Then  the  new  ontogenetic 
factor  silently  retires  from  the  noise  of  the  builders,  from  the  noise  of  the  incoming 
and  outgoing  nations,  into  the  "Holy  of  Holies",  the  innermost  recesses  of  a  com- 
paratively few  sanctified  souls. 

Thus  upon  four  powerful  pillars:  the  Genealogical  Memorial  Tables;  the  Tower  church  typical  of  the 
of  Babel  (with  the  confusion  of  tongues);  the  Image  of  "Humanistics";    and  the  ^^"ome" 
Church  (with  the  unification  of  languages)  are  based  the  further  movements  and  the 
goal  of  history.  Any  conjectures  formed  to  supersede  this  prophecy  under  the  vandalis-  in  contrast  to  the  tower 
tic  attempts  to  overthrow  these  old  pillars  of  humanism  will  be  doomed  to  no  less  bit-  K?ngdom 
ter  disappointment  than  that  of  the  builders  of  Babel.    This  prophecy,  at  the  same  °^  Babel, 
time,  announces  that  a  higher  hand  has  designed  place,  time,  and  task  for  the  indi- 
vidual nations,  as  they  are  dismissed  with  the  benediction  and  go  to  their  work.  uÄs7i  Kingdom  to 

It  became  the  special  charge  of  the  Apostle  to  the  heathens  to  explain  this  more  vS7n  e'Lrth"'"™ 
explicitly.  The  secret, which  had  been  preserved  in  the  vessel  of  the  Jewish  Theocracy,  Jewish  theocracy  the 
he  was  now  specially  commissioned  to  preach  to  the  gentiles  directly,  since  the  meri-  Jffvation  and^'^'^^ 
dian  dividing  the  times  and  the  nations  had  been  crossed.  civilisation; 

now  the  secret 

We  cannot  follow  him  just  now.    As  yet  we  have  to  remain  a  little  longer  with  the  great  communicated  to  the 
sacrifice.    It  must  be  left  to  theology  to  formulate  how  the  union  of  the  human  and  the  divine 
natures  in  the  person  of  the  Mediator,  and  their  relation  to  the  sacrificial  death,  ought  to  be  j-t^ics  and  ChristoloeT 
conceived.    True  advance  in  this  respect  was  signalised  by  Dr.  Weidner  of  Chicago,  in  several  Weidneb. 
passages  of  his"Ethics'\  to  the  efiPect  that  the  ethical  study  of  Scripture  "will  bring  to  light 
matters  which  a  mere  doctrinal"   (dogmatical)   "consideration  would  not  take  into  account. 
This  is  especially  the  case  in  regard  to  the  central  point  in  Holy  Scripture  —the  person  of 
Christ.*' 

For  our  present  purpose  it  must  sufiBce  to  see  in  His  death  a  necessity  which  throws 
light  upon  man,  his  history  and  this  visible  world  belonging  to  him.  This  necessity  will  be 
rendered  the  more  intelligible  as  the  realised  effects  of  this  death  shall  stand  out  in  history 
which  now  takes  a  new  start. 

For,  with  this  death  the  accounts  of  history  with  the  ancient  nations  are  closed  and  the 
result  of  the  settlement  is  enunciated.     At  the  same  time  a  distant  view  is  opened  upon  the  Final  fulfillment  of 
closing  scenes  of  history  in  general  from  the  scope  of  the  empty  sepulchre.    The  King  of  Na-  prophecies 
tions  outlined  how  much  of  these  scenes  may  be  anticipated,  thereby  enabling  us  to  discern 
the  last  act,  even  the  transformation  of  the  stage.     This  transit  of  the  cosmos,  however,  into 
the  state  of  glorification  is  not  to  be  expected  without  some  things  being  pulled  down,   not  not  without  certain 
without  a  great  deal  of  destruction,  not  without  the  death-struggle.  ***    strugg  es. 

CH.  III.    THE  INTERMEDIATION  IN  ITS  ETHICAL  BEARINGS. 

§  116.    The  advent  and  immanency  of  the  Savior  is  demonstrated  as  a  logical 
necessity,  so  that,  as  we  hope,  the  exhibition  of  the  physical  data  did  not  weaken  the 
strength  of  the  reason  of  things.    Now  the  ethical  import  of  the  Mediator's  life  and  Effects  of  the 
death  remains  to  be  discussed.    Dying  He  drew  all  into  His  death  in  order  that  living  ^^^"^'*®*'  *®^* 
He  may  draw  all  after  Him  into  His  life. 

The  Redeemer's  cross  is  our  key  which  discloses  and  closes  the  history  of  the 
ancient  world.    Its  cultui;^  resulted  in  a  mass  of  degradations  and  unsolved  questions 


THE  SCiXE  OF  HIGHER  DEVELOPMENT. 


n.  D.  ch.  n.  §  116. 


A  nucleus  of  a 
regenerated  household 
to  work  as  a  leaven 
in  the  dough  of 
humanity. 

Process  of 
disseminating  the 
purpose  of  history. 

§  221,  234. 

In  ever  widening 
circles,   the  process 
is  going  on  without 
ceasing 

analogous  to,  but  not 
identical  with,  the 
developments  in  the 
natural  sphere. 

SCALE  OF 
PROGRESS 
IN  GENERAL; 

from  the  inorganic  to 
the  celestial  world. 
§  9,  57, 109,  221. 

Higher  grades  of  life 
imparted  to  beings  in 
progressive  stages  of 
development  and 
self-preparation  for 
the  transit  into 

five  higher 
grades, 

with  a 

hiatus  between 
each. 

Hiatus  between 

inorganic  and 
organic  life; 

between 

vegetable  and 
animal  life ; 


between 

animal  and 
personal  life 

less  distinct. 


between 

physico-spiritual 

and 

pneumatico- 
divine  life 

difference  almost 
imperceptible. 

The  lower  sphere 
always  to  prepare 
itself  for  the 
reception  into  the 
next  higher. 

Mind  in  the 
lower  stage 
unable  to 
understand 
the  higher. 

Equality  of  conditions 
upon  the  entire  scale 
of  development, 
(the  natural  process 
foreshadowing  the 
spiritual  in  the  physical 
analogies)  «  6,  7. 

In  degrees  of  diminish- 
ing distinctness  but 
growing  intensity. 

8  9,  23,  24,  109,  221, 


Christ  alone  imparts 
the  life  eternal  and 
Indissoluble; 

In  the  historic  way  of 
organically  fixed 
ordinances. 


All  combinations 
outside  of  this 
connection  with  Christ 
by  faith  are  soluble. 


which  accumulated  with  increasing  rapidity.  Its  season  of  prime  brought  to  bloom 
a  mass  of  involutions  and  subversions  becoming  ever  more  complicated,  in  which  the 
plan  and  task  of  history  seemed  to  disappear— sealed  up  in  the  sepulchre  of  the  God- 
Man. 

With  His  resurrection  we  plainly  see  the  rise  of  the  history  of  a  new  world,  the  his- 
tory of  one  regenerated  family  as  a  leaven  worked  into  the  dough  of  humanity.  By 
the  working  forces  newly  imparted,  working  in  cooperation  and  standing  in  com- 
munication with  the  realm  of  divine  influences:  the  veiled  purpose  of  history  be- 
comes now  gradually  disclosed  to  ever  widening  circles  through  a  process  analogous 
to,  and  on  the  basis  of,  but  not  identical  with,  former  developments. 

Speaking  of  development,  we  are  prompted  to  digress  from  our  discussion  a  few  moments 
for  a  summary  review  of  the  matter.  The  ethical  necessity  of  the  Mediation  needs  to  be  brought 
out  from  a  synopsis  of  data  preceding  and  succeeding  the  mediatory  intercession.  For  the 
reiteration  of  these  data  the  interruption  will  be  excusable,  because  of  the  ethical  import  of 
the  matter. 

In  the  domain  of  the  inoeganic  world,  nothing  is  able  to  overstep  its  bounds  at  any 
point,  or  to  transcend  from  itself  into  the  organic.  A  hiatus  yawns  between  these  two  parts 
of  creation.  Nowhere  is  spontaneous  generation  produced  from  Force- Substance.  The  gap 
is  bridged  only  \^hen  life-germs  enter  this  lower  sphere,  after  it  has  prepared  itself  for  re- 
ceiving them  from  the  sphere  above.  Then  inorganic  matter,  impregnated  with  organic  life, 
is  appropriated,  assimilated,  and  conducted  by  it  to  the  next  higher  class  of  entities.  This 
process  continues  through  the  entire  scale  of  organic  formations,  even  of  social  organisations, 
always  conditioned  by  receptivity  and  reciprocal  interaction  or  cooperation  of  the  lower 
elements,  preparatory  to  the  reception  of  new  impartations  from  the  higher  sphere. 

In  the  ORGANIC  world  the  hiatus  between  vegetable  and  animal  life  does  not  appear  to  be 
so  wide,  the  formative  elements  not  being  so  heterogeneous.  Still  it  is  not  bridged  unless  a 
specifically  different,  generic  life  is  added.  At  this  step  it  is  animal  life  which  assumes  and 
assimilates  the  force-substance  of  both  the  lower  spheres,  leading  them  up  to  personal  life. 

Again  a  hiatus,  now  between  animal  and  pbksonal  life.  Outwardly  it  seems  to  have  dis- 
appeared, so  that  many  deny  any  essential  difference.  But  that  hiatus  between  animal  and 
human  life  is  the  more  intense. 

As  a  matter  of  course  the  creatures  of  the  lower  sphere  can  in  no  case  understand  the 
difference,  altho  the  animal  sees  it.  The  difference  lies  in  the  psychical  sphere  and  is 
profound,  because  the  spiritual  substance  has  entered  the  soul  of  man. 

Again,in  the  sphere  of  personal  life,a  hiatus,  scarcely  perceptible  at  all  from  the  outside. 
The  absolute  difference  here  cannot  be  understood  by  the  inferior  mind,  altho  a  child  can  see  it. 
And  a  child  is  very  receptive  for  spiritual  influences  from  superior  minds,  by  whom  its  own  is 
to  be  cultivated  and  developed  under  the  condition  of  cooperation,  always  under  the  proper 
maintenance  of  the  interrelation  with  the  concomitant  lower  spheres.  By  way  of  preparation 
for  receiving  the  divine,  the  pneumatic  infusion,  the  mind  must  be  disentangled  from  the  pre- 
ponderance of  the  physical  principles.  Thus  personal  life  may  be  guided  up  and  elevated  into 
the  highest  sphere  of  the  life  divine-human. 

It  is  always  the  factor  from  above  entering  the  lower  sphere,  which  unites  the  prepared 
lower  elements  to  itself,  in  order  to  lead  them  along  with  itself  up  to  new  and  higher  forms 
of  life.  Here,  in  new  connections  and  interactions,  preparatory  to  the  coming  elevation,  the 
transition  into  the  next  higher  sphere  upon  the  same  terms  takes  place.  The  lower  is  always 
taken  up  by  the  higher,  in  order  to  serve  as  a  coeflBcient  in  this  stage  of  development  to  a  still 
higher.  The  lower  is  always  to  be  set  free  from  the  encumbrances  of  the  lower  on  entering 
the  higher  sphere.  And  the  higher  can  never  be  understood  by  the  lower,  unless  it  has  ob- 
tained its  position  in  the  higher  sphere,  where  the  purpose  of  the  development  has  become 
mianif est,  and  where  the  difference  becomes  conspicuous. 

To  this  end  and  for  this  very  work  the  Christ  entered  the  world  and  re-entered 
Heaven,  namely:  to  impart  to  minds  prepared  under  the  law  the  necessary  pneumatic 
life  from  on  high.  Otherwise,  or  apart  from  this,  even  spiritual  life  cannot  under- 
stand nor  enter  the  sphere  of  blessedness  ultimately  designed  for  man.  The  chasm 
between  fallen  man  and  his  destiny,  made  still  more  inaccessible  through  man's  own 
fault,  is  now  bridged  by  the  Savior.  Through  His  assuming  human  life  the  truly 
real  life,  life  eternal  is  revealed  and  imparted  to  human  nature  by  its  Mediator,  the 
Liberator  of  the  world. 

The  life  appearing  through,  and  imparted  by  Him  is  indissoluble.  Being  super- 
natural and  eternal,  this  life  is  nowhere  else  to  be  found  in  the  spheres  of  finite  exis- 
tence but  in  organic  connection  with  the  spiritual  world  through  Christ  embraced  by 
faith.  Outside  of  this  organism,  no  other  but  soluble  combinations  are  found  here 
below.  However  great  the  difference  is  between  physico-psychico-finite  and  spiritual 
pneumatico-eternal  life,  and  necessary  as  it  is  to  discriminate  between  them,  the  diffi- 
culty is,  even  at  the  points  of  gradation  to  distinguish  the  subtile  demarkations  be- 
cause of  their  blending  of  the  psychico-spiritual  nature. 


n  D.  Ch.  III.  §  117.  THE  COGNITION  "HUMANISM."  229 

The  eternal  life  descends  in  order  to  embrace  earthly  life,  and  to  unshackle  it  from  its 
confining  conditions;  to  set  it  free  from  bases  and  gases,  as  it  were.  Unless  life  eternal  by 
virtue  of  its  association  with  temporal  life  prepares  the  temporal  and  elevates  it  to  the  grade 
of  spiritual  reality,  and  unless  this  life  temporal  allows  itself  to  be  taken  into  this  treatment,  fpfAtuRoJidVo 
It  cannot  be  led  back  to  the  ideal  life,  i.  e.  to  its  source,  to  life  in  its  real  and  adequate  form  of  become  spiritualised. 
existence.  Equal  to  the  processes  in  nature,— which  simply  foreshadow  the  grade  of  highest 
development,  where  organic  life  takes  up  and  assimilates  inorganic  forces  thus  leading  the 
material  world  up  to  the  possibility  of  being  spiritualised,— does  eternal  life  lead  the  highest 
earthly  organism,  the  human  world,  up  to  the  highest  organisation.  Eternal  life  —embracing 
the  human  world  one  by  one,  according  to  its  principle  of  personal  diversity  —thus  transforms 
the  temporal  or  arrested  life  of  the  human  world,  by  conducting  it  to  the  state  of  the  only 
normal  and  real  life. 

This  truth  comes  to  light  in  the  resurrection  of  the  Liberator,  the  Redeemer, 
unless  bodily  risen  from  death  as  the  glorified,  yet  corporeal  Mediator  —in  whom  the 
spiritualisation  of  nature  is  complete  for  the  first  time  — He  could  not  have  been  prepared  humanity  of 
credited  with  being  the  Head,  the  First-born,  the  life-germ,  prototype  and  progenitor  cannot7eceiv"e'!''mu'ch  ^ 
of  a  new  family,  a  regenerated  humanity.    As  such,  however.  He  showed  Himself.  irfedS7*° 
He  appeared  only  to  the  disciples,  prepared  by  Himself  for  the  reunion  in  the  higher 
sphere  of  true  life.    For,  unless  ethically  prepared,  the  humanity  of  the  mere  natural 
and  therefore  lower  grade,  does  not  see,  much  less  comprehend  or  receive,  the  higher 
life,  the  life  divine. 

Whosoever  becomes,  in  this  order,  a  member  of  true  discipleship,  to  him  it  is  wiiosoever  became  a 
manifest,  to  a  degree  of  unshakable  certitude,  that  the  Lord  of  Glory,  whom  their  TccÄg'to  thlSJ'' 
hands  had  touched,  is  the  very  same  One  in  whom  the  thought  of  the  world  was  con-  *"*  '*^^^*'°°' 
ceived,  by  whom  and  for  whose  sake  the  world  was  called  into  being,  and  who  came  faS'^ndTuThsTre 
in  the  fulness  of  time  to  seek  and  lift  up  persons  lost  and  under  bondage,  and  to  guide  ''»^«"'e'^i«- 
them  back  to  the  Father. 

This  being  clear  to  the  followers,  they  became  at  once  conscious  of  the  truths 
connected  with  these  facts;  of  the  significance,  for  instance,  of  a  first  man  of  the  race  -second Adam": 
as  its  root  and  common  parent,  and  of  the  significance  of  the  "second  Adam,"  the  Son  humTnHy!  tS?on 
of  Man  and  God:  man,  as  the  natural  crown  of  humanity  in  one  respect,  and  as  the  £°^j^^°''^  p'^''"®*^ 
scion  grafted  into  humanity  in  another.    Thereby  the  disciples,  in  increasing  num- 
bers, recognised  as  never  man  had  before  the  human  being  in  its  ideality  and  eternal 
value. 

This  is  something  entirely  new  in  human  history.    It  is  a  revelation.    It  is  not  New  m  history: 

.       .  .  Personality  conceived 

the  discovery  of  advanced  evolutionism,  which  posits  an  ideal  quite  different.  in 't^  \<i«aHty  ^nd 

*^  eternal  value. 

§117.    It  was  then,  that  men  began  to  see,  not  only  subjectively  their  dignity  constituent  parts  of 
and  true  origin,  but  also  their  objective  oneness.    After  the  divine  nature  had  taken  JXiTJo^fthJ*'*"*^^^ 
possession  of  the  friends  of  Jesus,  after  the  Risen  Lord  had  poured  out  the  Holy  Spirit  holy  spirit, 

,  recognise  each  other 

into  their  minds,  humanity  comprehended  itself— despite  the  diversity  of  languages,  ^ri^inS  2«^'""'°'* 
etc.  —as  a  unity  in  respect  to  both  origin  and  destiny.    "It  may  be  surprising,"  said     ^'  ^ 
Jacob  Grimm,"that  it  never  came  into  the  mind  of  Greek  or  Hindoo  to  raise,much  less  gentSieSngfver 
to  attempt  to  solve,  the  question  as  to  the  variety  of  human  speech  and  its  origin."      to'tL  variety^ol  human 

speech  and  a6  to  the 

The  question  of  languages  and  human  unity  had  been  lying  open  before  all  nations,  humÄ-*^  °* 
and  was  silently  passed  over  in  all  ages.    It  had  been  asked  with  astonishment  at  "nswireda^pSS 
the  single  instance,  after  the  reunion  had  become  a  fact,  when  even  the  dumb  ''  ^""^  ^  ^^'^• 

spoke.    Then  and  there  the  answer  was  given. 

There  are  lying  dormant  in  man,  or  bound  up  within  him,  certain  incipiencies  (com- 
parable to  the  so  called  "rudimentary  organs")   which  are  now  awakened  and  set  free  by  Human  incipiencies 

^,         -        .       ,  ,  ir         L  ^    ,,  1  .  lo  1  111  ■■  .  ,»        .   ,  and  potentialities  set 

methaphysical  assistance.  Man  "came  to"  himself,  and  was  enabled  to  see  himself  with  sur-  free;— "rudimentary 
prise  as  in  a  deep  "central  vision".  The  speaking  with  tongues  is  a  supernatural  gift— but  CeTntral  vision 
after  all:  what  speaking  is  not?  of  personal  import; 

Through  the  word  and  breath  the  disciples  had  been  perceptibly  touched  by  their  master  tongue"f  ^^ 
now  their  glorified  Head;  and  they  knew  themselves  to  be  now  in  more  immediate  touch  with  Unity  in  spirit  covers 
Him,  than  when  they  held  regular  conversation  with  Him  on  their  journeys.    In  this  intimate  '^'^®'^*'*^  "^  anguage. 
connection  with  the  Lord,  and  through  Him  also  peculiarly  united  among   themselves,  they 
formed  a  nucleus  of  a  new   "humanity."     All  their  new  experiences  were   analogous  to  first     THE  CHURCH, 
creation ;  they  knew  themselves  to  be  new  creatures.     It  was  not  a  reform— it  was  a  renova-  creation"*  ^  *"* 
tion.    A  fire  quickening,  purifying,  and  light-giving  is  kindled  as  the  Son  of  Man  had  desired  Nucleus  of  a  new 
that  it  should  be.    This  new  life  in  the  similitude  of  fire  shall  henceforth,  by  mere  praying  and  Not"rreform, 
preaching  and  without  any  ostentation,  seize  nation  after  nation,  and  form  history  and  trans-  ***** *  renovation. 
form  the  world. 


CHRIST  THE  "IMAGE"  OF  OUR  DESTINIES. 


n.  D.  ch.  m.  §  117 


Christianity 

means 
not  a  new  human 
genus  created,  but  a 
new  organisation. 

Preaching  of  the 
Gospel 

The  ties  binding  the 
Head  and  members 
into  a  mystical  body 
are  brotherly  love  and 
compassion,  in 
response  to  the 
Great  Sacrifice. 

Love  in  general  to 
fellow  man. 

Another  novelty  in 
history. 

Sum  of  the 
effects  of  Christ'i 
resurrection : 
"Humanity" 

a  concept  for  which 
not  even  Socrates  or 
Plato  had  as  much 
as  a  word. 
U.  MuKixxs. 


Humanity  to  cooperate 
in  the  spiritualisation 
of  the  world. 


Type  of  humanity 
in  its  totality 
and  solidarity; 
answering  the 
requirements  of  each  in 
the  diversity  of  all 
earthly  situations. 
§  n,  :»,  .36,  92,  105,  120, 
IS.'j,  191,  197,  201,  205, 
232,  233. 


Typical  figure 

in  whom  all  conditions 
of  life  are  mirrored, 
to  whose  life  every 
person  can  trace  and 
■confonn  his  own. 
§  13,  36,  37,  105,  233. 


The  life  and  death  of 
the  God-man  typical 
of  the  movements, 
issu  8  and  final 
consummation  of 
history,   ' 


There  was  created  not  an  other  human  org'anism,  but  we  emphasise  it — a  new  organisa- 
tion, that  is,  the  organic  connection  of  renewed  personalities  into  one  body  or  socially  organ- 
ised community.  The  college  of  the  diciples  and  all  who  joined  them  and  were  embodied  with 
the  Head  of  the  organisation,  found  and  felt  themselves  without  much  reflection  under  this 
Head  as  members  of  one  body.  And  without  much  reflection,  but  not  without  a  new  way  of 
specific  guidance,  they  made  it  their  sweetest  task,  to  spread  the  glad  news.  From  this  local 
center  the  world  of  nations  was  to  be  invited  to  partake  of  the  membership  in  the  mystical 
body,  under  this  Head.  The  means  of  this  gathering  and  binding  are :  Love  and  compassion 
by  virtue  of  the  great  sacrifice. 

It  was  an  unheard-of  story  which  spread  like  fire  in  ever  increasing  circles  from  the 
Orient  to  the  Occident.  The  world's  history  had  been  crying  to  Heaven.  Love  answered  with 
abundant  proofs  of  mercy  from  Heaven.  The  call  of  this  undiminishing  but  enriching  love 
is  to  resound  to  the  world's  ends,  and  behold— it  connects  them  so,  that  there  be  no  end  in  the 
circulation  of  love. 

It  is  proclaimed,  that  divine  value  and  destiny  is  to  be  respected  even  in  the  most 
abandoned  person;  and  that  no  man  shall  esteem  another  less  than  himself,  except  he 
were  god-forsaken  and  to  be  pitied  the  more.  And  even  then  it  is  worth  the  while, 
that  in  order  to  rescue  him  from  the  awful  doom  of  perdition,  one  may  exercise  love 
and  compassion  even  unto  death. 

Now,  whatever  has  been  enunciated  as  an  effect  of  Christ's  resurrection  is  con- 
tained in  the  term  "Humanism" !  It  is  well  expressed  in  tliat  word,  which,  as  M. 
Mueller  said,  "never  passed  the  lips  of  either  Socrates,  Plato,  or  Aristotle." 

Through  the  accomplishment  of  the  plan  of  salvation  by  the  Mediator  up  to  this 
point,  the  ethical  necessity  of  His  entrance  and  intercession  is  proven. 

The  natural  world  from  geological  substances  up  to  the  highest  of  its  formations 
cannot  be  explained  out  of  itself.  But  as  soon  as  man  is  taken  into  consideration  the 
method  of  nature's  workings  becomes  apparent,  and  system  is  demonstrable  through- 
out, because  he  is  the  synopsis  of  nature,  and  because  the  part  cannot  be  understood 
unless  viewed  in  its  relations  to  the  whole.  The  same  is  the  case  with  the  human 
world.  In  spite  of  all  possible  attempts  to  interpret  it  by  itself,  it  remains  an  enigma 
unless  the  God-man  is  taken  into  consideration.  Then  it  becomes  explicable  to  those 
who  accept  Him  as  the  real  synthesis  of  this  world  of  humanity,  as  the  synopsis  of  all 
the  true  elements  contained  in  every  theory,  as  the  source  of  all  life  and  light. 

In  order  to  understand  the  loose  variety  of  nations  representing  figures  in  the 
play  of  history,  we  needed  a  typical  figure  to  make  the  success  6f  their  several  pecu- 
liarities and  the  laws  conditioning  the  variations  intelligible.  This  must  be  a  type  in 
which  each  finds  himself  projected,  in  whose  life  every  individual  person  may  trace  his  own, 
on  whom  he  may  call  for  succor,  whose  life  mirrors  his  own  case  in  every  condition  of  the  mind 
in  every  affair  of  daily  life.  Since  we  cannot  help  noticing  that  the  affairs  of  man  col- 
lectively, i.  e,  as  history,  follow  the  lines  of  an  accurately  planned  combination,  we 
discover  the  theme  of  this  history  to  be  actually  and  plainly  revealed,  in  the  life  of 
the  God-man.  He  is  demonstrable  as  the  very  Son  of  Man;  as  the  type  and  ideal  of 
the  whole  race;  after  whom  it  unconsciously  yearns;  through  whom  and  for  whom  it 
is  fashioned;  by  whom  each  one  individually  shall  become  renewed  under  easy  phy- 
sically and  ethically  fixed  conditions. 

Now  humanity  for  the  first  time  was  made  acquainted  with  the  significance  of 
the  Mediator  with  reference  to  these  things.  Only  in  the  fellowship  of  His  disciples, 
and  subsequently  in  His  organised  community  was  humanity  perceptibly,  however 
imperfectly  in  outward  appearance,  reinstated  to  its  dignity  and  freedom. 

The  questions  ever  forcing  themselves  upon  the  mind  of  man  as  to  his  position 
among  the  complex  environments,  as  to  the  wealth  of  potentialities  and  opportuni- 
ties which  he  as  the  binding  tie  of  two  forms  of  existence  holds  in  himself;  as  to  the 
depths  from  which  his  consciousness  looms  up:— these  questions  are  satisfactorily 
answered,  and  the  implied  discrepancies  most  consistently  and  naturally  solved,  only 
in  the  person  and  through  the  mouth  of  the  God-man. 

Alone  through  Him  mankind  receives  light  as  to  its  own  high  importance  and 
deep  significance;  in  Him  the  race  is  elevated  to  its  ideal  dominion  over  nature. 
What  is  ethically  required  of  man,  his  task  on  earth,  preparatory  to  the  consummate 
reunion  and  blessedness  in  the  higher  life  :  humanity  must  determine  by  the  measure 


n.  D.  CH.III.  §  118.  ETHICS  AND  ESTHETICS.  231 

of  his  exemplary  excellency.  Whatever  is  valuable  in  history  since  it  entered  the  Human  beings 
sera  of  a  new  development,  consists  in  definitely  reflecting  and  assiduously  copying  hJdivffuaibf*^ 
this  model  life,  "The  Image."  ^a^^^ ??^\^^i^^^^' 

8  »1  16,  18,  23,  24,  35, 

It  is  noteworthy,  that  with  the  study  of  the  character  and  **Life  of  Christ"  in  our      ng^Joo^iS'  }^' 
century  the  study  of  history  in  general  received  new  impulses  and  deeper  insight.  '     '  in\  220! 

It  must  be  one  of  the  chief  aims  of  humanity  and  its  historic  progress,  to  appre-  Mediator  in  His 
hend  humanity  in  its  entirety,  its  most  abandoned  specimens  included,  since  each  chSrch^*°*^^ 
and  every  one  of  them  participates  in  our  high  and  common  origin  from  the  image  „ans unt  ue  «sition 
"after  Our  likeness".    And  "the"  main  virtue  ultimately  consists  in  practicing  hu-  naw^i'Jternln  "*^ 
maneness,  in  accordance  with  the  maxims  drawn  from  the  fact  of  this  fellowship,  Christ  of  ^K  msen  one  ^^"°'' 
Jesus  not  excluded.    The  final  goal  of  human  development  and  the  normal  course  of  ^^^^  b  •    •       • 
history  is  the  liberation  from  mere  natural  conditions,  and  (of  course  under  provisos)  «niy  what"eflectJthe 

.        ,  ..  .J  ,       .  «       ..  .        ,,  .,.  »  .  .        modellife  of  the 

the  subsequent  elevation  into  glorious  perfection.    As  the  recognition  of  unity  in  "image." 
"the  Image"  was  obtained  only  from  above,  so  the  aspiration  for  union  and  the  ac-     . 
quisition  of  real  education  necessarily  ascend  to  where  education  ("Bild"-ung)  is  mafA^t^"*^^ 
alone  obtainable:  in  the  direction  towards  "that  which  is  above."  „ 

Humaneness, 

§  118.    Standing  thus  at  the  focus  of  the  ethical  principles,  we  find,  closely  re-  ronctptforShumanity 
lated  to  Ethics,  the  principles  of  Aesthetics.    They  also  lie  infolded  in  the  Mediator,  including  even 
the  central  man,  in  His  harmonious  deportment,  in  His  doctrine  and  rhetoric,  in  His  the  niost 
passion  and  resurrection.    Well  aware  of  the  objections  ready  against  so  bold  an  as-  specin?eTof 
sertion,  we  emphasise  the  truth,  that  the  glorified  corporeality  of  Jesus  makes  Him  degeneracy, 
the  First-Born  of  a  new  humanity,  which  with  Him  as  the  head,  is  to  be  made  perfect  §  176. 

in  the  transfiguration  of  the  body  into  the  state  of  glory.    From  no  other  source  can  ibildcic.  imagouNQ» 
ultimately  the  idea  of  the  Beautiful  be  derived.  prop«  se'me.''' ' 

§  9,  35,  48,  135,  176. 

In  the  most  majestic,  tho  meekest  of  men,  we  see,  since  His  resurrection,  our  (Seif conceit:  §15,58.) 
corporeal  figure,  which  He  wears,  gloriously  spiritualised.    For,  this  corporeality  as  JJ^Sf  ^^*^'^  ^ 
now  transformed  into  the  form  of  spiritual  existence  does  not  dissolve  into  the  flood  of  aesthetics. 

ether.  Bearing  of  the  Risen 

The  Hellenes  boastfully  but  superficially  talked  about  harmony,  because  of  sin  ^''^  ''^*"'  «sthetics. 
they  thought  so  wantonly  as  to  connive  at  it.     Plato  took  sin  into  account  to  the  ox-  ofTniur^'filuraSon 
tent  of  rendering  the  body  sin  itself.    Hence  he  could  not  see  the  harmony  by  which  gtate^of  Glory 
his  countrymen  contrived  to  hide  sin.  me'asure"f*lihr  ^'"^ 

With  Christ  harmony  is  more  than  a  contemplative  conception;  in  Him  it  is  real-  ^*^"*'*"^ 
ised  and  exhibited  to  perfection.    In  Him  we  have  the  ideal  unification  of  the  spirit  SusoiveSetlfer!"** 
with  its  body,  the  body  expressing  this  ideal  of  harmony  in  consummate  reality.  The  Defl^iency  of  the  Greek 
normal  equilibrum  is  obtained  in  the  most  natural,  i.  e.  unaffected  and  artless  man-  ''^^''^^  •'^  harmony. 
ner,  so  that  every  abnormity,  especially  that  of  affectation,  the  most  abject  of  all,  is  ^*^^^**^°^.°fjj^ 
abolished.    The  ideal  thought  deposited  in  human  nature  is  fully  realised.    In  the  ^^^^^^^^  abnormities 
Risen  One  we  see  the  norm,  plan,  and  aim  of  historic  truth  fully  uncovered  in  beauti- 
ful lines  and  tints,  inasmuch  as  His  life  moves  in  curves  of  equanimity  and  perfect 
harmoniousness.    We  see  man  in  his  genuine,  unassuming  dignity,  tho  merely  fore- 
shadowed at  present,  yet  warranted  to  become  apparent  and  distinctly  visible  to  all 
the  world  in  all  its  glory.    Virtually  the  heterogeneity  between  mind  and  body  is  The  resurrection  of 
overcome.    The  hateful  soul  in  elegant  forms  of  studied  attractiveness,  or  selfishness  SK\he  goXand  the 
in  the  garb  of  sanctimoniousness  and  similar  matters  of  outward  appearance  must  Sopment!"  *  °  §  177. 
cease  to  deceive  and  to  corrupt  the  judgment  of  men.    Misleading  contrasts,  such,  for 
instance,  as  may  prejudice  a  nobla  character  on  account  of  a  rough  appearance,  or  a 
"beautiful  soul"  in  a  homely  body,  are  reconciled,  not  through  absurd  mortification 
in  a  false  spirituality  with  its  contempt  of  the  body,  but  by  the  spirit  pervading  the  SerogenSty  of  matter 
body  as  his  temple  and  adorning  it  with  the  "fruits  of  the  spirit."  *°  ™'"  '*  '"'*'^''T2()& 

Hence  the  extreme  contrasts  at  variance  with  Christian  aesthetics,  especially 
strong  between  the  eastern  and  western  Aryans,  become  eliminated  in  widening  cir- 
cles after  the  corporeal  appearance  of  the  glorified  Risen  One  to  His  believers. 

Buddhism  considers  corporeal  substance   as  a  mere  docetic  apparition,  as  a  p^^^^^^^^^  ^^  Hindoo 
spectre  of  reality.    There  the  only  good  lies  in  unconsciousness,  by  which  one  im-  ^"cOT^fnglo  theiT**^ 
agines  to  escape  the  misery  of  this  phantom  existence.    This  is  what  presses  the  views  of  iife. 
stamp  of  absurdness  npon  Hindoo  aesthetics. 


Greek  sculpture  bears 
the  mark  of 
untruthfulness. 


Difference  between 
pagan  morality  and 
Christian  ethics. 


Morality  and 
»stheticism  at  Benares. 
Oldbmbebo. 


Morality  of  Athens. 


The  secondary  good  in 
Christianity. 


FINE  ART  IN  CIJLTUS:  "THRICE  HOLY".—  "MAGNIFICAT."      II.  D.  Ch.  III.  §  119 

In  Hellenism  the  phenomenal  world  is  divine.  What  is  good,  meaning  that 
which  is  pleasant  and  agreeable,  Greek  phantasy  shaped  into  idealistic  conformity. 
The  Greek  enjoys  his  products  of  illusion  with  rapture,  conscious  of  the  fact,  that  it 
was  his  art  with  intent  to  produce  that  satisfaction  or  contentment  in  the  beholder 
which  makes  him  forget  the  indigencies  of  worldly  life.  But,  even  if  unconscious  of 
the  intent  to  silence  the  reminders  demanding  of  him  a  perfect  life,  there  yet  re- 
mains just  that  artifice,  pendulating  between  tendenciousness  and  naivete,  which 
stamps  upon  Greek  sculpture  the  mark  of  untruthfulness. 

This  illustrates  the  close  connection  between  ethics  and  aesthetics,  consequently 
the  difference  between  pagan  morality  and  Christian  Ethics. 

"The  society  of  Buddha,  says  Oldenberg,  is  a  congregation  of  monks  and  nuns,  It  is 
what  it  styles  itself— a  "society  of  beggars."  Prince  Vassantra,  the  Buddha  in  the  second  last 
of  his  incarnations,  will  not  kill  a  beast;  and  in  order  that  not  a  worm  shall  die  on  his  account 
he  will  not  wear  any  silken  garments.  His  benign  tenderness  does  not  allow  it.  But  this  same 
benignity  does  not  forbid  him  to  give  away  his  wife  and  children.  This  benevolence  turns  to 
selfcomplacency  which  discards  all  sense  of  duty.  One  plunges  himself  in  quietistic 
revelry  so  as  to  escape  all  molesting  cares,  and  then  enlarges  upon  his  righteousness  and  strict 
religiousness. 

The  Hellenes  on  the  other  side,  dodged  the  combat  under  indulgence  of  carnal  desires, 
not  finding  it  necessary  to  deny  themselves  the  pleasures  and  diversions  of  the  mc>ment.  Their 
onesidedness  led  them  to  make  even  religion  consist  of  sensual  enjoyment.  They  had  com- 
pletely forgotten,  it  seems,  that  the  things  in  the  realm  of  the  secondary  good  are  entrusted 
only  to  be  made  good  use  of  in  consecrating  them  to  higher  accounts.  Having  lost  the  idea  of 
the  Supreme  Good  as  the  standard  measure  for  valuing  the  secondary  good ;  having  no  sense 
for  that  which  is, holy,  but  merely  for  what  is  prudent  in  regard  to  a  fill  of  pleasure,  the 
Greeks  mistook  the  world  and  the  lusts  thereof  for  the  one  thing  worth  living  for,  not- 
withstanding their  pessimistic  misgivings  that  such  a  life  is  a  business  which  does  not  cover 
the  costs.  At  Benares  earthly  things  are  considered  bad ;  because  of  generating  distress,  they 
are  to  be  thrown  away.  At  Athens  life  is  a  frolic,  full  of  good  things,  to  enjoy  which  man 
throws  himself  away. 

According  to  Christian  tenets  the  visible  goods  convey  either  pain  or  pleasure,  in  response 
to  the  manner  in  which,  and  the  purpose  for  which  they  are  used ;  but  as  signs  of  kindness 
and  gifts  of  God  they  are  estimated  in  either  case.  The  secondary  good  must  be  worked  for, 
nevertheless ;  and  such  well  earned  goods  are  to  be  appreciated,  cultivated,  idealised,  spiritual- 
ised, that  is,  they  must  be  husbanded  and  employed  with  reference  to  the  giver  and  his  pur- 


Morality  and  aesthetics 
of  Jerusalem. 


Sacred  music: 

"Trishagion." 


The  adornment  of  the 
hous«  of  God, 


a  matter  intirely 
unknown  to 
surrounding  nations. 
"Magnificat."' 
Educational  privileges 
which  the  Christian 
enjoys. 
§  9,  35,  48,  117,  135,  176. 

History  but  the 
exposition  of 
man  in  all  his 
dispositions, 
incipiencies,  and 
potentialities. 
§  1,  13,  1.5,  16,  38,  44, 
117,  119,  168,  176, 
185,  197,  201,  20.5, 
233. 

Christ  our  pattern. 

§  117,  120. 
Asceticism  Inclined  to 
malie  the  temple  of 
thft  spirit  a  penitentiary. 
"Bildung''  out  of  the 
question. 


To  these  goods  belongs  corporeality,  one  of  man^s  essential  parts.  The  Humanists  have 
done  well  to  emphasise  this  truth,  to  insist  upon  its  restitution  and  proper  application.  The 
humanitarian  idea  could  have  originated  nowhere  else  but  in  Christianity,  that  is,  after  the 
new  principles  had  been  adopted  and  had  become  prevalent. 

In  yonder  temple,  honored  with  silent  reverence  by  Greeks  and  Romans,  to  which 
Augustus  had  dedicated  golden  chalices,  in  which  sacrifices  were  offered  down  to  the 
time  of  emperor  Vitellius,— there  the  Trishagion  is  chanted:  "Holy  is  OUB  God,  holy  is  our 
GOD,  HOLY  is  our  God,  the  Lord  Zabaoth",  the  worshipers  knowing  themselves  to  be  a  holy 
people.  The  prayers  offered  there  as  if  under  observances  of  sacerdotal  duties  include  all  other 
nations.  Still  more  important  it  is  that  there  alone  was  perceived,  what  the  word  holy  signifies, 
whilst  to  the  nations  east  and  west  of  that  temple  the  idea  was  entirely  unknown.  Here,  in 
consequence  of  the  cognition  of  Holiness,  unadulterated  purity  of  soul  and  body  is  kept  up 
in  the  usages  of  every-day  life,  whilst  not  one  single  form  of  paganism  knew  of  holy  gods. 
Among  the  Jews  alone,  the  grave  and  sober  nation  among  the  staggering,  hearts  and  lips  were 
touched  and  sanctified  as  by  burning  coals  from  the  altar.  Here  alone,  by  means  of  a  holy  law, 
a  flame  from  above  (not  self  kindled  fire)  had  singed  the  flesh,  and  had  cultivated  that  chastity 
which  finally  could  intonate  the  triumphant  "Magnificat,"  so  unique  in  all  the  literature  of 
the  world.    In  the  Messiah  of  the  nations  that  pious  sentiment  received  its  tangible  object. 

§  119.  The  conviction  of  the  historic  reality  of  the  God-man  involves  the  premise 
that  He  also  is  the  "Image"  of  all  that  is  magnificent;  and  the  conclusion,  that  also 
His  kingdom  is  to  be  acknowledged  as  the  realm  of  noblest  humanitarianism,  as  the 
repository  of  all  that  is  truly  humane,  and  "herr"-lich  at  the  same  time.  Here  the 
truth  comes  to  bring  forth  its  practical  results,  that  history  is  but  the  exposition  of 
man  in  all  his  incipiencies  and  dispositions.  "There  the  image  and  likeness"  appears 
resplendent  from  the  God-man.  Resurrected  He  appears  as  the  model  after, 
and  the  end  for,  which  man  is  to  be  "educated",  to  be  "led  out  of"  all  that  grav- 
itates to  ugliness  and  to  the  sphere  of  the  vulgar,  and  to  be  conducted  upward  to 
purely  humane  and  truly  civilised  forms  of  culture,  to  habits  of  genuine  refinement. 

Whenever  at  the  expense  of  the  present  life,  and  in  favor  of  another,  perhaps  a 
romantic  world,  the  body  (and  nature  as  part  of  it)  is  simply  treated  as  that  which  is 
to  be  mortified,  or  is  taken  for  a  penitentiary  of  the  spirit  instead  of  being  its  tem- 
ple, then  the  education  (the  "Bild"-ung)  of  which  we  speak  is  out  of  the  question. 


n.  D.  CH   III.  §  119.  OPTIMISM  AND  PESSIMISM.  233 

Neither  will  the  truth  of  the  normal  development  and  transmutation  of   the 
natural  part  of  man— his  universe  always  included— into  the  state  of  glorious  perpet- 

f  /.      X-  J  -Lt  -1  -u  J.I.  X  -x».     /.    .  ,    Worldliness  disqualifte* 

uity  and  perfection  dawn  upon  those  minds,  who,  on  the  contrary,  with  feigned  to  judge  things 
indifference  cover  up  the  anxieties  aroused  in  most  serious  predicaments,  or  who  extol  8phere"öf*'giory.* 
only  the  beauty  of  nature,  or  deify  somebody,     or  sacrifice  labor  and  life  to  mere 
earthly  pleasure  at  the  expense  of  the  life  to  come.  For  such  minds  are  nature-bound 
of  whatever  grade  their  educational  standing  may  be;  and,  being  arrested  in  proper 
development,  cannot  judge  things  of  tlie  liiglier  spliere. 

In  either  case  the  onesidedness  either  rises  to  false  enthusiasm,  if  not  wild  fanaticism,  or  wUd  fanaticiHm. 
sinks  to  fatalistic  apathy. 

In  both  cases  nothing  propagates  except  either  the  Hindoo  mood  of  dejection,  or  Greek  ore^kv^n-giory'' 
vainglory— whilst  the  shrill  discords  between  ideals  and  reality  remain. 

Now  the  glorified  Redeemer  in  the  mean  between  the. dire  extremes  has  wrought  the  so- 
lution also  in  this  respect.    Because  in  Him  this  life  and  the  next,  deity  and  humanity,  nature  p    .    .. 
and  spirit,  mind  and  matter  are  intrinsically  united  in  pure  and  perfect  beauty,  a  blessed  to  present  reality  and 
state  of  peace  and  harmony  is  ever  present.  In  Him  the  truth  is  substantiated,  that  we  are  the  harmoi^sedln  "* 
"offspring  of  God."  Hence  to  His  freed  congregation  the  contradictions  pertaining  to  present  Christianity, 
life  and  future  destiny  are  reconciled.     By  the  true  cognition  of  what  the  world  is  made  of        '     '     '      '  152'  159! 
and  what  for,  the  chasm  between  Heaven  and  earth  is  practically  arched  over,  as  typified  by 
the  rainbow,  this  beautiful  symbol  of  the  universal  covenant.  embienTöf  the  bAdge^ 

Hence  it  is  written  "all  things  are  yours,  whether  Cephas  or  the  world,  things  present  or  »^er  the  chasm. 
things  to  come,  all  are  yours— and  ye  are  Christ's."  These  cognitions,  however,  thrown  into 
the  contest  of  the  ethno-cultural  elements,  seem  to  disappear  for  centuries :  here  they  will  be 
distorted  by  asceticism,  there  abused  by  libertines.  But  by  the  Risen  One  they  are  established  sunny'side  o'f'llfe. 
in  the  permanency  of  such  institutions  as  for  instance  the  "Lord's  day,"  ever  commemorating 
Easter-morning  with  its  sorrows  and  sympathies,  and  Easter-evening  with  its  solace  and 
gladness.  By  the  simple,  yet  grand  order  of  life,  regulated  through  these  ordinances,  bliss  or 
misery  will  ensue  according  to  their  proper  celebration  or  their  desecration.  The  Sabbath 
must  be  held  as  sacred  as  matrimony,  its  only  compeer  of  paradisial  origin.  Deprive  the 
sanctuary  of  the  "Sunday,"  and  not  only  the  chief  factor  of  education,  (of  Bildung  after  the 
"image,"  "das  Bild")  is  curbed,  but  national  welfare  set  at  stake.  Henceforth  the  labor  for 
the  true  understanding  and  practical  handling  of  these  subjects  forms  no  mean  part  of  our 
sacred  theme,  the  history  of  humanity. 

The  names  given  to  the  opposite  world-theories  under  the  strain  of  oriental  and 
occidental  characteristics  have  received  notoriety  of  late.   It  has  been  stated  that  optimism  and 

pesiinism  conciliatofl 

Christianity  combines  darkest  pessimism  with  brightest  optimism.  This  is  true.  For  in  Christianity 
nowhere  has  the  inclination  of  men  to  carnal  baseness,  and  the  consequent  malfor- 
mation of  the  affairs  of  life,  been  more  keenly  felt  and  more  sincerely  deplored  than 
among  the  Christians.  Nowhere,  on  the  other  hand,  has  the  original  and  sublime 
destiny  of  man  and  what  belongs  to  him  been  magnified  more  gladly  at  the  same  time. 
Pessimism  and  optimism  meet  in  their  common  endeavor  to  seek  man  from  among 
the  ruins,  to  counteract  the  work  of  devastation  in  which  depravity  is  engaged,  to  res- 
cue man  from  vulgarity,  and  elevate  him  to  nobleness.  It  is  one  of  the  cardinal  prin- 
ciples of  Christianity  to  persist  in  making  manifest  the  eternal  value  of  the  person. 
It  puts  man's  personality  on  a  grade  so  high,  that  no  sage  nor  school  outside  the  ^^'^"''^^  ""^^"^  ***  °'*°- 
pale  of  Christianity  ever  ventured  to  think  of  placing  him  in  so  august  a  position. 

Says  Teichmueller,  an  authority  on  Greek  philosophy;  "The  idea,  that  any  definite  indi-  "Any  definite 
vidual  belongs  into  the  system  of  the  world  for  ever,  was  not  even  dreamt  of  by  either  Plato  b"fönl^"toth'I System 
or  Aristotle."    But  with  this  thought  another  is  connected :  that  the  value  of  this  newly  dis-  of  the  world.'» 
covered  personality  with  eternal  rights  depends  upon  cheerful  dedication  to  duty,  and  consists 
in  personal  responsibility,  that  is— in  freedom. 

In  the  terse  remark,  that  the  "Cross  is  the  first  (we  would  say,  the  ONLY)  Tree  of  Lib-  ^        ^       freedom. 
erty"  a  great  truth  is  expressed.    What  we  mean  by  this  "liberty"  is  warranted  by  what  we 
call  "progress."    Lenormant  observed,  that  "only  with  the  Gospel  progress  proper  was  ini-  ''[re°e  of  ubert"* 

tiated."  "With  the  Gospel 

Why  did  the  Mongolian  states  so  obstinately  remain  in  a  cultural  condition  which  Marco  p'^ogress  proper  is 
Polo  already  had  praised,  which  had  excited  the  admiration  of  the  Franciscan  emissaries  more  lknormant. 
than  five  centuries  ago  ?    Because  they  think  they  have  all  they  need ;  above  that  they  know  of  Contrast  between 
no  further  aspirations.    Everything  is  calculated  to  be  preserved,  nothing  to  be  improved  Turanian  stagnancy. 
upon.    These  people  have  become  totally  destitute  of  originality  and  inventive  thinking.  Masses  without  freedom 
The  inner  impulse  for  scientific  research,  for  the  amelioration  of  toil  in  manufacture,  for  de-  ^«'=0'"«  •'^«'^  '"  ™''^'^- 
veloping  artistic  taste,  is  stup^ed.    That  freedom  is  missing  which  alone  makes  progress  Snpr''og'r*e^i*vr*  ^"^ 
possible.    Of  late  they  have  become  acquainted  with  the  fruits  of  advance  in  civilised  nations ;  Must  be  broken 
but  their  skill  in  imitating  can  never  take  the  place  of  personal  ambition  and  international  up  in  order  to 
emulation,  both  of  which  alone  secure  ever  new  and  selfproduced  prosperity.  ambit£n  ^'^^^^^^^ 

The  despotic  states  of  yore,  tho  graded  class-wise,  were  like  the  compact  masses        §  is,  21, 80, 196, 
"Which  show  motion  only  on  their  surface.    Ere  such  solid  stuff  can  be  made  to  flame 


CHRISTIANITY,  FREEDOM  AND  PROGRESS. 


n.  D.  Ch.  IU.  §  120. 


Christianity  the  solvent 
ingredient. 


Organised  Christianity 
alone  the  preservative; 
vessel  of  all  which  the 
thought  humanism 
contains. 

COKRAO   HeBHMXNN. 


Polarity  between 
"Church"  and 
'  'Society' ' — "  dogma 
and  free  thought." 

§  168,  171,  177. 


ResTtme: 

"The  man  toward  whom 
ancient  heathendom 
tangents : 

§  13,37,37,105,  117. 
through  whom  alone 
history  can  be 
interpreted."    Droysen, 
§  9,  12,  13,  35,  36,  92, 105, 
117,  134, 159,  177,  220. 


The  atonement  and 
intercession  of  the 
Mediator  in  their 
logical,  cosniical,  and 
«"thical  significance. 


Plan  of  reconstructing 
the  social  organism. 


up,  it  needs  to  be  broken  up  and  thrown  into  heating  motion,  like  a  meteor  or  a 
lump  of  coal.  Unless  parts  or  atoms  are  set  free  and  transported  into  the  higher 
sphere  of  mobility,  that  warmth  and  efficacy  of  which  they  are  capable  cannot  be 
developed. 

Now  such  deliverance  into  the  free  motion  of  personal  activity  is  given  in  Christi- 
anity alone.  In  producing  that  effect  consists  its  most  conspicuous  proof  of  being  a 
new  factor,  of  being  rendered  the  most  beneficient  agency  in  every  respect.  Where- 
ever  it  is  added  as  a  solvent,  it  works  fermentation;  it  attracts  homogeneous  elements 
and  rejects  the  repulsive;  it  calls  forth  the  crisis  which  is  to  isolate  the  Bad,  and 
urges  man  on  to  a  decision.  It  requires  of  the  individual  to  act  upon  its  own  re- 
sponsibilities in  the  interest  of  the  whole.  This  is  the  new  mode  of  operation  which 
Christianity  established  for  the  benefit  of  history  and  humanity. 

"If  there  is  a  law  of  regular  progress  upon  a  helic  line",  we  say  with  Conrad  Herr- 
mann, "then  it  must  imply  no  less  than  the  gradual  elevation  of  man  to  true  freedom 
and  his  training  in  its  proper  use."  Amended  as  follows  we  affirm  this:  The 
thought  of  humanity  in  freedom  cannot  be  preserved  in  its  efficiency  and  purity,  unless  se- 
curely sheltered  in  the  organism  which  is  upheld  by  its  exalted  Head.  Herder  did  not  follow  this 
thought  deep  enough,  which  oversight  was,  however,  made  good  by  Schleiermacher. 

Henceforth  we  shall  observe  this  thought  of  freedom  working  itself  out  in  the  en- 
suing history  under  a  polar  strain.  The  poles  lie  in  the  antitheses  "Church"  and  "So- 
ciety"; one  as  the  place  of  revelation,  the  other  the  sphere  of  reflexes.  There  the  definite 
"dogma",  here  the  current  opinion  under  the  title  and  style  of  "free  thought",  that 
is,  thought  unwilling  to  surrender  its  right  of  endeavor  to  formulate  in  its  own  way 
the  contents  of  dogmatics.  This  free  thought  will  be  provoked  especially  when  ortho- 
doxism  feels  itself  bound  to  conserve  its  understanding  and  its  mode  of  interpreting 
the  truth  according  to  "faith",  which  sounds  like  mere  intellectualism;  or  by  legalistic 
observances  and,  perhaps,  by  the  abuse  of  ecclesiastical  privileges  in  addition.  When- 
ever the  church  suffers  at  times,  it  is  because  the  preceding  age  carried  on  things  re- 
ligious as  tho  the  church  held  a  mortgage  upon  the  world.  Whenever  the  church 
assumes  more  of  a  ruling  than  serving  attitude,  and  imitates  the  state  in  that  it  pre- 
scribes prohibitory  rules  to  the  realm  of  thought,  rules  according  to  which  it  is  to 
be  decided  which  persons  are  to  be  treated  considerately,  or  which  are  to  be  ostracised 
—then  the  tension  becomes  perceptible.  Then  public  opinion  or  free  thought  will 
assert  its  right  in  protecting  the  humanistic  idea,  and  will  insist  upon  an  estimate  of 
man  regardless  of  his  standing  in  church  or  class. 

Purposely  we  have  signalised  right  here  the  course  which  the  thought  of  humanism 
and  personality— once  imparted  to  an  organisation  at  the  center  of  the  times— will  follow  in 
history ;  and  what  corruptions  this  thought,  on  account  of  old  repristinated  misconceptions, 
will  have  to  sustain. 

§  120.  Under  a  rather  protracted  discussion  we  lingered  upon  that  summit 
where  in  the  person  of  the  Mediator  we  found  "that  man,  toward  whom,*to  speak  with 
Droysen,'all  ancient  heathendom  verged,  through  whom  alone  its  history  can  be 
interpreted." 

This  convergence  we  called  the  Logic  of  History,  which  demanded  the  Mediator 
and  proved  Him  as  fully  answering  the  postulates.  For  in  Him  we  found  even  the 
natural  focus  of  both,  the  physical  cosmos  and  the  spiritual  realm.  And  finally  we 
discussed  the  plan  after  which  the  thought  of  humanity  is  to  be  realised  ethically  and 
organically  in  the  readjustment  of  human  affairs.  We  saw  this  thought  to  cover  the 
whole  range  of  social  relations,  and  that  mankind,  solely  through  its  realisation,  may 
come  to  its  own,  preserve  it,  and  arrive  at  its  destiny.  It  is  worth  while  to  study  the 
chief  outlines  of  the  plan  for  the  reconstruction  of  humanity  as  expounded  by  the 
great  Apostle. 

St.  Paul  crosses  over  the  Achaean  Sea  to  Europe. 

Standing  before  the  Areopagus  on  Mars  Hill  opposite  the  pillars  of  the  Acropolis, 
in  the  face  of  the  thousands  of  god-ideals  in  marble,  and  in  the  face  of  the  wisdom  of 
this  world  as  elaborated  by  the  most  intellectual  nation  of  antiquity  —he  unfolds  the 
predesigned  purpose  of  the  Lord  whose  messenger  he  is.     He  proclaims  what  his 


n  E.  Syllabus.  st.  paul  unfolding  the  program  of  history.  235 

Lord  has  deposited  in  the  nation  selected  for  the  very  purpose  and  in  the  same  man- 
ner as  a  testament  is  kept  safe  and  sacred  until  it  is  to  be  opened  to  the  heirs  after 
the  death  of  the  testator. 

The  Apostle,  according  to  his  instructions,  takes  the  sealed  secret  from  the  com-  First  stage  of  the 
bination-safe  of  the  Jewish  theocracy,  and  explains  those  clauses  in  which  the  audi,  ^p'«*^^«*  christia»ity. 
ence  is  particularly  interested,  because  pertaining  to  the  development  of  history.    He 
publicly  announces  his  Lord's  order,  according  to  which  "He  hath  made  of  one  blood 
all  nations  of  men  for  to  dwell  on  all  the  face  of  the  earth,  and  hath  determined  the 
times  before  appointed,  and  the  bounds  of  their  habitation;  that  they  should  seek  the 
Lord,  if  haply  they  might  feel  after  Him  and  find  Him,  tho  He  be  not  far  from  every  ^''orw-sEory  S* 
one  of  us."    Paul  makes  it  known,  that  "God  hath  appointed  a  day,  in  which  He  will  ^^^^f  ^pauund  the 
judge  the  world  in  righteousness  by  that  man  whom  He  hath  ordained".    So  he  un-  Areopagus. 
rolls  the  grand  panorama  in  a  Central  Vision  —whether  the  Athenians  want  to  un- 
derstand or  ignore  it— the  program  for  every  philosophy  of  history,  a  philosophy 
which  demands  for  this  history  a  major  premise  as  a  starting  point,  a  syllogical 
middle  and  a  satisfactory  conclusion.    For,  unless  human  thought  has  set  before  it  a 
well  arranged  and  comprehensive  whole,  it  cannot  find  its  way  through  the  difficulties 
which  beset  life's  journey.    And  just  that  plan  of  the  whole,  not  without  the  clearly 
defined  final  purpose  and  its  complete  execution,  the  Apostle  has  spread  out  before 
the  Europeans  and  the  nations  on  the  surface  of  the  globe  in  the  solemn  proclama- 
tion: all  of  one  blood,  subject  to  one  Lord  alone,  all  meeting  at  one  date  .before  the 
same  court. 


E.  FIFTH  DIVISION.— THE  THIRD  CIRCLE  OF  NATIONS. 
ROME  IN  THE  POST-AUGUSTEAN  PERIOD. 


I 


SYLLABUS. 


Down  three  offsets,  through  three  grand  circles  of  nations  we  were  led  to  that  The  three  concentrating 
intensified  central  unit  which  unfolded  to  us  history  in  its  totality.    Now  we  shall  kiddie  oÄ  «me, 
have  to  ascend  the  steps  again,  starting  out  from  our  Center. 

The  steps  were  represented  by  strata  of  ethnical  driftings  upon  the  substratum.     This 

latter,  the  lowest,  most  massive,  and  most  extensive  Turano-Mongolian  layer  lies  bare  as  yet, 

away  out  on  the  periphery,  forming  a  nebulous  horizon.     The  narrower  circle  consisted  of 

the  four  Aryan  groups,    As  the  third  circle  we  designated  the  disintegrating  Semitic  element  ^  .     ^ 

js.i  ...,,-.  .,  ,  ,  ..  .  .^,  ,  ,      to  be  observed  in 

of  the  composition  in  the  Roman  crucible,  wherein  the  nations  were  mixed  and  made  ready  reverse  order,  beginning 

for  the  separating  or  reducing  element,  for  the  addition  of  the  solvent  ingredient.     The  ^tending'tow^df  the 

"Leaven"  was  added  to  the  "dough"  which  now  stands  over  night  in  order  to  rise.    In  propor-  nations  upon  the 

tion  to  the  progress  in  which  circle  after  circle  of  the  human  race  is  seized  by  the  fermenta-  ^*"^  ^'^* 

tion,  we  shall  observe  its  pervading  and  elevating  action,  and  follow  its  spreading  through  Three  different  stages 

three  different  stages  of  civilising  culture.    We  refer  to  the  remarks  introductory  to  division  culture  wUhTvi^ew  to 

B.,  and  simply  give  notice  here,  that  we  are  now  going  to  watch  the  elf  ects  of  the  Christian  "^i^??®?^'  civilisation. 

.  °  .  '.  ■»-,,.,  .7,  1.         1  .  ,  1  .    1  .      Div.  E.  in  the  Roman 

thought  in  the  Roman  basin.    Division  F,  the  sixth,  will  outline  history  under  the  sway  of  this  basin; 

thought  in  the  Aryan  world  exclusively;  while  the  seventh  and  last  division  of  Book  II  must  °''-  ^'A^an!*'*^ 
notice  the  prospects  of  the  Mongolian  nations  on  the  circumference,  as  seized  by  the  cyclical  !>»▼•  o.  in  the  world  of 

_  J.       £  1^'   J.  the  Mongolians. 

movements  of  history. 

In  the  first  place,  then,  we  will  look  at  the  Roman  empire  again  from  the  aspects 
gained  since  we  left  it  to  concentrate  our  attention  upon  intensified  religion.  We 
shall  see  the  new  life  from  above  setting  the  Mediterranean  culture  in  motion,  sepa- 
rating it  by  its  isolating  effects,  afläliating  elements  from  the  decomposing  mass,  and 
neutralising  certain  infectives.  The  Semitic  element  becomes  obvious  as  an  alloy 
mixing  itself  into  the  church,  causing  ruptures  which  up  to  present  times  have  defied 
the  healing.  So  long  as  that  Judaising  intermeddling  is  not  rejected  the  chances  are, 
that  the  irritation  thus  generated,  tho  beneficial  in  negative  ways,  may  on  the  slight- 
est occasion  turn  into  annoying  inflammation.  The  old  element,  generally  speaking,  ^^^.^.^  ^^^^^^^  ^^ 
obtrudes  upon  Christianity  chiefly  by  means  of  the  Semites,  notorious  for  their  skill  »"oy  in  church.iife. 

*'*'•'  '  cause  of  many  and 

m  negotiating  transfers.    Semitism  tries  to  push  itself  into  that  again  which  so  long  ««ious  disturbances, 
had  been  enclosed  by  it,  had  proceeded  from  it,  and  is  continually  rejected  by  it. 
18 


IMPOTENCE  OF  THE  STATE,  STRENGTH  OF  THE  CHURCH.      11.  E.  CH.  I.  §  122. 


Roman  rule  made 
subservient  in  preparing 
the  nations  for  the 
reception  of  tlie  Gospel, 
and  in  preparing 
channels  for  its 
distribution. 


Circumspection  of  the 
Church  in  securing 
permanency  for  her 
usefulness. 


Rome'R  retribution 


for  devastating  the 
countries. 


Curse  of  bureaucracy. 


Barbarians  save  the 
Occident  from  the  fate 
of  Oriental  cultures. 


Examples  of 
effeminating 
extravagance. 


Roman  syncretism 
And  indifference. 


CH.  I.    ROME  AND  THE  CHURCH. 

§  122.  It  had  been  Rome's  part  in  history  to  prepare  the  nations  by  the  disci- 
pline of  her  laws  for  receiving  the  great  gift  of  salvation.  He,  whom  taxgatherers 
and  fishermen  worshiped  and  preached— had  come  and  gone.  The  message  came 
from  the  most  troublesome  corner  of  the  empire;  Roman  dominion  was  now  to  serve 
the  progress  of  Christianity,  as  previously  we  saw  the  intellectual  preponderance  of 
Hellenism  prepare  at  least  the  form  of  speech  for  the  preachers.  Rome  served  in 
building  the  highways  for  the  spread  of  the  glad  tidings,  until  finally  its  ponderous 
portals  opened,  in  order  to  afford  Christianity  its  fixed  domicile  and  headquarters. 
The  first  duty  enjoined  upon  the  church  was  to  disentangle  people  from  the  forms  of 
thought  and  of  cults  circulating  through  the  realm.  The  church  was  to  be  ludicious 
and  discreet  in  her  administrations.  Whatever  could  be  utilised  for  the  intellisfible  ex- 
position of  her  truth  was  to  be  taken  into  service,  and  what  proved  a  spurious  or  ad- 
ventitious element  was  to  be  kept  outside.  The  legal  forms  were  to  be  applied  for  the 
protection  of  her  organisation  in  order  to  maintain  the  establishment  for  times  and 
nations  to  come. 

The  Roman  State  was  then  like  a  fortified  city,  defending  itself  against  the  at- 
tacks of  the  barbarians  along  the  whole  line  from  the  Firth  of  Forth  to  the  Tigris. 
They  dashed  over  the  boundaries  like  the  floods  of  the  ocean  in  a  storm  over  the  moles. 
For  centuries  they  had  been  repulsed  again  and  again,  until  at  last  they  became  irre- 
sistible in  the  measure  as  the  besieged  became  effeminate.  The  bulwarks  had  become 
rotten  and  the  hirelings  upon  the  ramparts  fraternised  with  the  outsiders,  especially 
when  the  insiders  withheld  their  payments. 

The  barbarians  crowd  into  Asia-Minor,  force  the  military  camps  along  the  Danube,  and 
swarm  over  devastated  Greece.  In  Italy  their  hordes  land ;  from  Spain  and  Gaul  their  war- 
cry  is  heard,  mingling  with  the  noise  of  battle-ax  and  hurl-but.  Through  the  crevices  of  the 
crumbling  palace-walls  gleam  the  eager  eyes  of  the  Germans  and  espy  that  inside  of  them  in- 
trigue reigns  and  impotent  despotism. 

The  despotism  of  the  Roman  emperors  had  ravaged  the  lovely  spots  of  retired  Greek  cul- 
ture. The  springs  of  patriotism,  of  sciences  and  arts  dried  up  under  the  sands  drifting  in 
with  the  tornadoes.  Cities  and  magistrates  sank  into  abject  servility  or  cowardly  fright. 
The  nations  became  like  herds  of  timid  sheep,  submitting  to  the  disdainful  treatment  of  the 
innumerable  host  of  officious  and  greedy  subordinates  of  the  government. 

After  the  Romans  had  transformed  cultured  regions  into  one  vast  desolate  waste 
history  emptied  the  swarms  of  barbarians  into  the  dismal,  dead  country.  History 
directed  the  barbarians  hitherwards;  barbarians  whom  Robinson  classed  with  the 
savages,  but  who  fortunately  were  sufficiently  civilised  not  only  to  change  the  wastes 
into  gardens  but  even  to  manage  the  affairs  of  the  sinking  ship  of  state,  and  to  save 
humanity  from  the  fate  of  oriental  apathy  and  despotism.  For  a  while  the  lease 
of  life  of  that  despotic  power  was  prolonged.  Inured  to  tyrannic  dominion  the  peo- 
ple took  the  emperor  for  their  providence  and  their  god.  And  the  despots  knew  how 
to  keep  up  prestige  and  appearances. 

The  annual  income  of  Roscius,  the  actor  to  the  court,  amounted  to  about  35,000  dollars; 
and  the  dancing  belle  of  Rome,  Dionysia,  could  afford  to  spend  not  less  than  30  dollars  every 
day.  The  means  for  such  extravagance  had  been  exacted  and  gained  as  booty  from  all  the 
oriental  courts,  where  treasures  of  gold  and  precious  stones  had  accumulated  through  twenty 
centuries.    The  temple  of  Tolosa  had  been  mulcted  as  well  as  that  of  Jerusalem. 

Commodus,  in  real  oriental  fashion  kept  a  seraglio  of  three  hundred  women  and  as  many 
minions.  At  the  Bacchanals  of  the  palace  the  plebs  was  amused  in  free  circusses.  Karinus  at 
one  time  had  a  park  of  trees  planted  in  the  theatre ;  then  ostriches,  deer,  moose,  and  elens 
were  put  in,  a  thousand  of  each,  it  is  said.  To  these  were  added  two  hundred  lions  and  two 
hundred  leopards  arriving  the  day  following  for  the  grand  hunt  in  the  arena. 

In  the  private  chapel  of  Alexander  Severus  stood  the  statues  of  Abraham,  Orpheus, 
ApoUonius  of  Thyana,  and— Christ.  The  eye  met  the  imperial  statue  everywhere  side 
by  side  with  the  figures  of  heroes  and  gods,  with  the  Hellenic  mysteries,  and  the  New- 
Platonic  teacher.  As  such  the  public  opinion  of  the  educated  class  esteemed— the 
wonderful  man. 

The  Savior,  as  the  hero  of  the  spirit,  was  honored  with  a  place  in  the  Pantheon. 
His  surroundings  symbolised  the  dissoluteness  of  the  New-Platonic  compromise  which 


II  E.  CH.  I.  §  123.  STATE  POWER  AND  CHRISTIAN  FREEDOM. 


contrived  to  furnish  the  world  a  religion  to  suit  every  body,  from  which  any  god 

could  be  chosen  at  pleasure  since  the  worship  of  any  one  was  indifferent  to  all.  To  such  Christianity  tolerated 

a  mixture  even  the  Christians  were  welcome,  as  we  have  seen,  provided  they  would  pontÄSs? ''*'''* 

show  themselves  pliable  enough  to  be  made  use  of.    For  the  state  took  anything  into 

service,  the  gods  even:  else  they  were  of  no  use.    The  religion  of  the  Romans  was  the 

oflacial  religion  of  the  state  for  definite  political  ends. 

Varro,  as  Massen  pointed  out,  described  the  antiquities  of  the  state  first,  and  then  l*^*^  *'*^^p^*°'* 
he  added  a  few  paragraphs  with  reference  to  religion  as  one  of  them.    This  indicates 
that  the  state,  still  considered  as  the  Supreme  Good  ranks  first,  men  and  gods  being 
recognised  as  existing  merely  for  the  sake  of  the  state. 

§  12?.    under  these  circumstances  the  church  was  in  danger  of  serving  the  public  S* lou^owtpoifcy"^^'' 
welfare  in  ways  not  pointed  out  to  her.    It  was  a  great  temptation  to  secure  tolerance  °*  expediency, 
on  the  ambiguous  terms  of  expediency;  but  the  Church  did  not  then  fall  under  this 
temptation.    No  Christian  would  deny  his  King  and  Savior  by  offering  a  grain  of  in-  triumphs  at  first  over 
cense  to  a  piece  of  idolised  art,  nor  to  the  deified  emblem  of  worldly  power,  because 
Christ  had  shown  how  to  triumph  over  this  temptation.     As  it  was,  religion  could 
only  come  in  to  take  care  of  the  perpetuity  of  the  state  and  the  welfare  of  the  rulers.  JäurailSn  Rome. 
All  revolved  upon  the  Platonic  ideal  of  unity  in  a  centralised  government  to  the  ^  ^^'  ^^'  ^^'  ^^ 

extent  of  absolute  power. 

We  see  here  the  ideal  of  Plato  translated  into  Latin.    His  idea  is  now  Romanised  The  supreme  Good  of 
—and  will  remain  so  when  once  state-religion  is  changed  into  a  church-state.  When  thfbTnefit  of  ttTe 
this  change  comes,  Augustin,  in  the  "State  of  God",  will  carry  out  the  Platonic-Jewish  thaugrAuGusTiN*!"^''^ 
polity  of  theocratic  rule,  and  will  contaminate  Christianity  with  this  fundamental    \fi^m,\'^]ullut: 
and  fatal  error  for  a  thousand  years  and  more. 

But  at  the  period  of  which  we  speak,  when  imperial  Rome  fretted  under  forebod- 
ings of  the  overthrow  by  "barbarians",  a  new  event  occurred.    Soon  a  phenomenon 
was    noticed    which   alarmed    the  almighty  state:  its    concentrated  power   suddenly  chrrsSrcoLSnce 
met  with  the  opposition  of  the  Christian  conscience.    The  Christians  will  do  homage  to  Xok'tism*^" 
no  gods,  much  less  to  the  emperor-god.    There  had  been  numberless  Atheists,  but  ^^^^^  ^^  ^^^ 
never  had  they  risked  defiance  like  this.    "I  honor  tiie  emperor,"  Tertullian  preached,  pers^jnitions. 
"and  I  wish  his  welfare  and  that  of  the  state.    But  I  do  not  call  the  emperor  god,  be- 
cause I  can  not  tell  a  lie." 

The  answer  was  given  through  blood,  fire,  and  lions.    For  this  kind  of  settlement  Efforts  to  rescue  the  oid 

°  o  7  7  j^g^  ^j  "state." 

was  considered  expedient  for  upholding  the  religion  needed  to  uphold  the  state.    The 
Christians  knew  that  and— suffered. 

"Crucify,"  Tertullian  cries  out,  "torture,  crush  us;  your  injustice  proves  our  innocence. 
The  ofteiier  you  mow,  the  stronger  we  grow !"  The  struggle  began  between  a  maddened 
giant  and  the  reconciled  conscience  of  the  weak  church. 

Was  not  this  conscientiousness  mad  obstinacy  ?    Who  would  have  imagined  that  it  could  "Refusal  to  offer  incens« 
gain  the  victory  ?    There  lay  the  ancient  errors  coiled  up  in  one  big  lump.    Ready  were  the   invofve™the°most 
beasts  to  spring  upon  and  devour  the  defenseless  herd  of  the  good  shepherd  which  encount-  neroic  emancipation.'' 
ered  the  hostile  onslaughts  with  no  other  protection  but  prayer  for  divine  aid  in  the  main-     ^     ' 
tainance  of  dignity  and  freedom,  and  an  assured  hope  for  the  future.      Ranke  was  perfectly 
right  in  saying  that  "the  Christian  prohibition  of  offering  incense  to  the  emperors  implied 
the  most  heroic  declaration  of  independence." 

For  the  first  time  since  the  world  stood,  history  noticed  a  separation  of  those 
halves  which  theocratic  state-rule  had  chained  together.  The  same  Church  which 
enjoined  obedience  to  even  a  Neronean  form  of  government  would  not  waver  from 
the  maxim:  "We  must  obey  God  rather  than  menl". 

The  long  series  of  persecutions  against  those  who  were  to  outlive  the  hatred  of  obedient  to  even  a 

Neronian  government, 

the  world,  were  thought  to  be  a  dutiful  measure  for  the  rescue  of  the  old  idea  of  state,  the  martyrs  couw 

not  be  made  disloyal 

Upon  the  public  square  of  Antioch  a  well  was  dug  andean  alter  erected  in  front  ^  "'^''  ^""^"^ 
of  it.  The  f ountaii^  was  dedicated  to  all  the  gods.  None  dared  to  sell  food  unless  it  was  P""**'  ^«"  ^*  Antioch. 
sprinkled  with  that  water.  You  surmise  the  purpose.  The  Christians  should  get  noth-  christians 
ing  to  eat  or  drink.    They  could  not  buy  anything  without  partaking  of,  and  burden-  fwm'huniTnrty, 
ing  their  consciences  with,   idolatry.    In  a  manner  so  studied  and  profound  the  whereby  they  were 
Christians  were  excluded  from  humanity  and— shielded  from  worldliness.     If  the  becomlng^woridiy. 
state  were  to  prevail,  the  Christians  could  neither  eat  nor  drink,  simply  die!    The 
Church  found  herself  assigned  to  Heaven  alone.    It  was  made  easier  for  her  to  die  to 


238 


CHRISTIAN  ANTIQUE. 


IL  E.  Ch.  I.  §  124. 


The  Church  guileless 
In  appropriating 
Roman  forms  ol  .cultus 
and  organisation. 

Such  adoption  was  a 
necessity  on  account 
of  which  at  that  time 

no  adulteration  of 
church-life  was  to  be 
feared. 

Externals  considered 
innoxious. 


On  that  score  the 
Church  need  not  to  be 
reproached  with  the 
satire,  "that  she 
crawled  into  the 
ancient  Roman  coat 
of  mail." 

Danger  lurked  in  the 
Judaising  tendency, 


Historical  development 
must  feel  the  way 
for  new  ideas. 
I  127,  138,  146. 


Artistic  and  symbolic 
figures  not  despised 
in  accord  with  the 
nature  of  worshiping 
in  the  tombs  of  the 
catacombs. 


Pictorial  badges 
served  as  confessions  of 
faith  against  the 
Spionage  of  persecutors. 

MArtihst. 
De  Rossi. 
O.  Pohl. 


Resting  places  of 
Domitilla,  Placidia, 
Hunoriu8,Congtantine  III 


Christian  antique 

represents  the  proper 
esteem  of  the  good  of 
this  life  and  its 
conciliation  with 
Heavenly  realities. 

i  10,  63,  92,  139,  147, 
152,  158, 


Attempts  of  paganism 
to  obtrude  upon 
Christian  doctrine. 

True  element  of 
orientalism  as  to 
emanation  was  inserted 
at  the  right  place  in 
the  article  of  faith: 
"fllioque." 


the  **world",  tho  she  was  kept  alive.  Her  way  of  thinking  and  educating  entered, 
"even  across  rivers  of  blood",  the  house  of  the  giant.  Without  guile  nor  fear  she  cloth- 
ed herself     with  the  accustomed  forms  of  art  and  of  organisation  as  she  found  them. 

The  apses  of  the  basilicas  of  the  empire  contained  the  Augusteum  with  the  statue  of  the 
emperor-God.  The  apsis  seemed  convenient  for  putting  in  a  crucifix :  and  of  course,  along 
with  the  apsis  the  basilica  was  made  appropriate  for  public  services— became  a  house  of  God. 
Deemed  as  equally  well  adapted  to  embody  the  world-tbeory  of  the  Christian  faith,  and  as 
suitable  vehicles  of  its  organising  principles  were  the  Roman  constitutional  forms  and  politi- 
cal institutions.  Thus  the  contents  of  Christianity  were  brought  under  shelter,  and  such 
housing  was  a  necessity.  No  corrupting  of  the  Church  was  to  be  feared  on  that  account,  as 
long  as  the  spiritual  life  of  the  Church  was  in  the  state  of  primitive  soundness,  and  the  edifi- 
cation of  heart  and  mind  was  the  chief  object.  The  externals  were  not  deemed  essential,  in 
worshiping  the  Savior.    All  belonged  to  that  faithful  Church,  be  it  Cephas  or  the  world. 

As  long  as  the  Church  remained  conscious  of  belonging  to  Christ,  the  forms  were 

indeed  innoxious. 

But— of  the  church,  standing  definitely  centralised  and  sharply  outlined  above 
the  ruins  in  the  dim  distance,  equipped  with  means  of  protection,  and  venerated  by 
the  nations,  it  has  been  said,  that  she  had  "crawled  into  the  coat  of  mail  of  ancient 
Rome."  With  reference  to  ecclesiastical  organisation  this  saying  is  not  improper. 
But  neither  is  there  any  impropriety  in  a  stringent  organisation,  which  in  the  times 
of  the  migration  was  certainly  a  necessity.  Its  harmlessness  would  have  continued 
had  the  Church  been  cautious  against  Judaising  ideas  of  dominion  and  theocracy, 
and  against  uniformity  in  lieu  of  unity. 

As  with  the  constitution,  so  it  was  held  with  art.  Development  in  history  never 
pursues  its  aim  with  firm  steps;  it  feels  its  way  along.  Since  new  ideas  are  always 
contested,they  walk  and  work  in  borrowed  apparel.  Until  custom  is  persuaded  to 
adopt  progressive  ideas  they  generally  cloth  themselves  with  the  attire  of  a  culture 
which  is  on  the  wane.  Reforms  must  step  forth  cautiously  under  such  shielding 
cover  against  unpopularity,  until  they  can  stand  on  their  own  merits,  and  fashion 
their  own  forms.  Hence  the  Church  held  her  services  in  the  catacombs,  because  the 
sleeping-chambers  of  the  dead  were  protected  by  law  against  all  spying  .intruders. 
Her  symbolism  originated  in  the  tufstone  of  subterranean  corridors  and  baptisteries, 
where  a  picture,  not  understood  by  enemies,  stood  for  a  confession  of  the  faith. 

The  allegorical  figures  impress  us  with  the  pensive  mood  expressed  in  them ;  they  speak 
to  us  of  the  endearing  sentiments,  sacred  memories  and  joyful  hopes  conveyed  by  them.  There 
appears  the  good  shepherd,  the  harp,  the  cock,  the  palmleaf ,  the  dove,  the  fish,  the  ship,  etc., 
representing  truths  in  which  the  departed  Christians  had  gone  to  their  rest,  for  which  they 
had  died.  The  good  shepherd  upon  that  lamp  of  the  apostolic  period  is,  acccording  to 
Martigny  and  De  Rossi,  worked  out  no  worse  than  the  finest  specimen  of  classic  art.  In  the 
sense  of  the  apostolic  sentence  quoted,  young  Christianity  with  unsophisticated  singleheart- 
edness  appropriated  the  arts  ready  made.  With  reference  to  old  Christian  frescoing  and 
mosaics  Otto  Pohl  lately  demonstrated  this  fact  in  a  thorough  manner  from  the  paintings  in 
the  catacomb  of  Domitilla.  We  find  a  variety  of  antique  forms,  but  no  sign  of  a  rigid,  ascetic 
contempt  of  the  natural-    Serene  genii  appear  alongside  of  the  Good  Shepherd  and  Daniel. 

In  the  imperial  tomb  of  Placidia  we  yet  admire  the  Christian  antique  as  it  was  before 
Byzantinism  demoralised  art  under  mandatory  rules.  There  emperor  Honorius  is  entombed 
in  a  ponderous  sarcophagus,  and  behind  the  altar  his  sister  Galla  Placidia,  daughter  of  the  great 
Theodosius.  Their  corpses  in  imperial  attire  were  yet  seen  as  late  as  three  hundred  years 
ago.  Not  far  from  them  lies  Constantin  III.  In  the  mosaics  of  this  grand  family-crypt  the 
Savior  is  pictured  in  the  classic  forms  of  Hellenic  art.  In  youthful  beauty  He  sits  resting 
upon  a  flowery  hill.  In  the  left  hand  He  holds  the  cross  as  a  sceptre.  On  the  opposite  side  He  is 
conceived  as  in  riper  years,  with  manly  features  and  dark  beard,  looking  beautiful  aird  tri- 
umphant. Walls  around  and  cupola  above  glitter  in  richly  gilded  ornamentation  to  set  off 
the  pictures  of  the  Apostles.  We  have  dwelt  a  little  longer  on  Christian  art  in  order  to  vin- 
dicate the  conclusion  to  which  the  art  of  this  period  leads;  namely  that  the  Christian  thought 
then  was  as  yet  able  really  to  conciliate,  not  only  to  compromise  between,  earthly  and 
heavenly  life.    But  Christendom  did  not  hold  this  exalted  position  for  a  great  length  of  time. 

§  124.  New-Platonism  had  begun  its  diverse  philosophical  attempts  in  order  to 
unite  Greek  paganism  with  the  religion  of  the  cross.  Long  and  earnestly  the  Church 
wrestled  with  that  syncretism,  until  in  the  formulations  of  confessions  it  was  barred 
out  and  the  purity  of  doctrine  preserved.  What  was  true  of  the  rather  Oriental  ap- 
perception of  an  emanation  was  inserted  at  the  right  place  in  the  doctrine  of  the 
Trinity,  and  is  contained  in  the  going  forth  of  the  Son  from  the  Father,  and  of  that  of 
the  Holy  Spirit  from  both.  In  this  dogma  the  old  cognition  was  enveloped  and  se- 
cured against  heterodox  misinterpretation. 


n  E.  Ch.  IL  §  125.  BEGINNING  OF    DEFOBMATIONS.  239 

But  facts  are  stronger  than— dogma.    The  persecutions  had  given  the  first  im-  warding  o»  paganism 
pulses  to  renounce  "the  world".    The  Occidental  Platonists,  especially  since  Angus-  '''  *^^°''^' 
tin,  had  some  reason  to  fall  in  line  with  the  oriental  contempt  of  life,  but  there  ex-  f2ofK7*,  62  Z'^uVi 
istedno  necessity  to  import  and  to  practice  Hindoo  asceticism,  with  its  demand  to  ^^isoVm;  is?;  139;  IS; 
mortify  the  body  as  the  seat  of  sin  and  cause  of  all  trouble,  as  that  which  ought  not  ^*^'  "^'  ^^"• 

to  be.  '"^  *^^  denunciation  of 

We  have  alluded  to  Agustin's  importation  of  Plato's  "Highest  Good"  with  intent  to  for-  of  life,  sequent'tothe*^ 
tify  the  Church.     It  was  at  the  time  when  the  persecutions  in  the  East  sent  many  orientals  E^^secutions  in 
nearer  Rome.    Fugitives  from  Persia,  Syria,  and  Arabia  turned  hermits  in  Hindoo  fashion,  §  54,  58.  59,  149. 
and  thickly  populated  the  devastated  region  of  the  Thebais.     They  became  monks,  became  in- 
flamed with  a  wild  fanaticism  against  the  culture  of  the  world,  and  the  realities  of  natural  ^^^S^"  9" 
life.     Works  of  art  appeared  to  these  ecclesiastical  zealots  as  demoniacal,  as  identical  with  communities, 
pagan  idolatry  in  general.  It  was  not  the  way  St.  Paul  on  Mars  hill  had  proclaimed  the  divinity  §  68, 147, 160. 
of  human  nature  in  the  words  of  the  Greek  poet.  .  .    , 

The  corruption  of  the  church  originated  with  the  relapse  of  the  new  thought  of  humanism  doctrine  on  the 
into  the  onesidedness  of  the  oriental  form  of  consciousness.    It  became  almost  completeatthe  "State  of  God," 

time  when  Persia  expelled  the  last  of  the  Nestorians,  shortly  before  Muhamed   separated  pj^j^*^  ^t'^™  d  ' 

Buddhism  so  far  from  occidental  Aryanism  as  to  prevent  further  communication  with  Europe,  order  to  fortify 

More  than  was  conducive  to  the  normal  development  of  humanism  had  Europe  imbibed  al-  the  permanency 

ready  of  that  fanatical  onesidedness  which  now  contaminated  Christian  territory  for  the  first  °s  «^^70^01^  07*07 
time.    When  the  sharp  opposition  of  the  Semitic  spirit  turns  against  occidental  Christian  '  122, 123,  13?! 

culture  with  intensified  acrimony,  and  reestablishes  that  very  same  historic  strain  which 

Rome  seemed  to  have  neutralised  and  Islam  to  have  intercepted,  then  more  may  be  seen  of  the  the^Th*  b^^^  ^^ 
deplorable  relapse.    For  the  present  it  may  suffice  to  observe  the  two  thousand  monks  follow-      54,  56,  59,  146,  147, 
ing  Hilarion  through  the  ^Egyptian  wildernesses  on  his  inspecting  tour  through  the  monastic  149,  160. 

colonies.    And  the  ten  thousand  monks  around  Serapion  in  his  cell  on  the  shore  of  the  Dead  Monkery  originated  in 

Sea,  are  descriptive  enough  to  cause  alarm  as  to  what  the  cause  of  humanism  shall  have  to  en-  -ffigypt. 

counter.    Such  numbers  are  suggestive.    They  formed  a  cloud  foreboding  the  coming  storms  Christianity  not  adverse 

in  a  graphic  manner.    Ephesus  in  A.  D.  449  witnessed  one  of  them.  to  art. 

The  cloud  arose  in  the  desert,  grew  dark  over  Rome,  and  spread  over  the  whole  oriental  remainders  in 

^  the  church  after  the 

empire.    Rome,  recently  the  Pantheon  of  all  the  gods,  became  now,  under  its  bishops  expulsion  of  oriental 

._  T.T-.  .  Arianism — and  after 

and  Its  first  pope,  Gregory  I— when  the  chronometer  stood  at  A.  D.  600  ( !)— the  chief  their  separation 
relic-market  of  the  world,  the  necropolis  of  all  sorts  of  saintly  bones  and  of  mummified  Muhamed 
martyrs.  A.D.eoo. 

Semitic  encroachments 

From  Rome  the  bones,  hairs,  splinters,  etc.  were  distributed  throughout  the  pope's  great  perpetuate  the  strain 

diocese.    Large  quantities  of  the  filings  ofp  the  chains  of  St.  Peter  became  a  ready  selling  aggravated  forms ."^ 

article;  they  soon  were  ''all  the  rage,"  to  be  worn  upon  the  bosom  in  small  lockets,  formed  Hilarion's  army  of 

into  the  symbolic  keys.    New  inventions  followed.    The  filings  of  the  grate  upon  which  Lau-  ™*'"^*- 

rentius  had  been  roasted,  fetched  as  high  a  price,  as  the  oil  of  lamps  which  had  stood  burning  ^^f  if  600  ^^®* 

before  the  graves  of  the  martyrs.  Little  cotton  balls  soaked  in  this  oil  were  put  up  in  capsules,       *     ' 

shipped,  and  worn  like  other  "charms"  as  preventative  of  almost  any  kind  of  bodily  ailment.  tl^"RELI(>°^ 

Cicero  jokes  about  the  brazen  image  of  Hercules  in  the  temple  of  Agrigentum,    The  market  of  the 

many  kisses  of  the  worshipers  had  smoothed  off  the  chin.    Now  the  very  same  picture  under  western  world, 

another  name  was  exhibited.    In  the  atrium  of  the  basilica  of  St.  Peter  stood  a  bronze  statue  From  deification  of 

of  the  "Prince  of  the  Apostles."  "The  foot  was  smoothed  off  by  the  kisses  of  the  superstitious  tionotfe^dXlTeV.^' 
of  all  nations."  8  is,  54,  59,  i25, 151. 

«T»  .  T  o    . .  .  ,  1  /  .      ^  Holy  nail  35,  Buddha  58, 

"Rome  on  one  side  of  its  organism  decomposed  as  a  corpse  (we  quote  Gregor-  Jesuitic  150. 

•       \         1--1    J.  .  X.  -x      ,0  X,  x^  ,.       T^        -r^  .        .,  ..  f      ,    25  Chrysostom,  127  Holy 

ovius)  whilst  rejuvenating  itself  on  the  other.'     For  Rome,  m  the  mean  time  had  cross,  151  Andrew's 

1-  1  ix^.T..,.,..  .TT.      ,  ..  .T^  ,.^      head,  137  Dalmatica 

become  a  church-state  inadvertantly  inclining  to  Hindoo  pessimism,  to  Roman  deifi_  dead  bones,  instead  of 
cation  of  the  living  body,  and  adoration  of  dead  ones.    This  was  the  mode  of  splitting  Degeneracy  of  the 
human  existence  from  heavenly  life,  and  then  trying  to  mend  the  split.    Rome  is  a  l^^^^^  ITeTa  iT" 
sinister  creature  whose  phenomenal  duplicity  henceforth  stands  out  unique  in  history  «'«rp^«'  °».°"« «»<*«- 

^  X-  ./  -X  J  ^    rejuvenating  on  the 

other."     Greoorovius. 

CH.  11.    DEFORiVUTION  OF  THE  CHURCH.    BYZANTINISM.  owRomefuiiy 

rehabilitated  in  the 

§  125.    The  exposition  of  the  ecclesiastical  deformity  of  Christianity  in  the  Roman  Church-state, 
basin  would  be  incomplete  without  a  special  survey  of  the  eastern  part  of  the  empire. 

From  the  solitude  of  depopulated  Hellas— for  Greece  deserves  a  brief  review,  nee-  g^^.^^^  ^^  ^j^^  ^^^^^ 
essary  to  understand  Byzantium— the  Parthenon  sighs  up  to  Heaven,  allegorically  part  of  the  Roman 
speaking.    The  Athenian  Parthenon  had  been  transformed  into  a  temple  of  the 
"Mother  of  God". 

The  image  of  the  goddess,  Phidias'  masterpiece,  had  disappeared.    In  the  temple 
of  Pallas  Athene  the  eternal  lamp  spread  a  flickering  sheen.    The  high  edifices  looked  fhe* 'MAVf^God!  •**' 
down  on  a  dilapidated  town,  from  which  the  last  treasures  had  taken  wings  to  Byzan- 
tium. 


240 

Abissynian 

Church 

in  the  south. 


Christianity  mummified 
dui  ing  the  first  stage  of 
Judaising  deformation. 


Northern  branch  of  th« 
Church  in  patristic 
times : 

Armenian 

Church. 

"Prester  John."      §146. 
Jkrome,  Ritter. 


The  statue  of  Constantine 
the  "Great"  emblematic 
of  the 

Byzantine 

empire, 


Historic  monuments, 
etc.  of  Greece  collected 
at  Constantinople. 


Imitation  of  oriental 
court  life. 
Supremacy  »f 
ecclesiasticism. 


Incipient  paganism 
eulogised : 

Chrysostom. 

§  126,  150. 


Art  ever  emble- 
matic of  national 
character  which 
is  based  upon 
feligious  tenets 
and  cults. 
§  11,  13.  l.'i.  20,  .56,58, 
71,  86,  96,  126,  131, 
132,  138,  139,  156, 
175,  199. 

Art  under  cesaro-papal 
surveillhnce.  S  190. 

II.  Council  of  Nice. 
Copy-book  of  Saints' 
portraits  at  Mt  Athos. 

Kyrillosof  Chios. 

Similarity  of 
Byzantine 
pictures  with 
representations 
of  Krishna  and 
Iris-Horus. 
§  131,  137,  146,  149. 


CONSTANTINOPLE,  MUSEUM  AND  BRIDGE  OF  CLASSIC  ART.     11  E.  Ch.  II.  §  125. 

Before  we  follow  thither  we  cast  a  side-glance  at  the  northern  and  southern  part  of  the 
eastern  Church.  The  abissynian  church  founded  upon  the  Nicaean  Symbolum  has  remained 
upon  that  foundation  under  a  heavy  surcharge  of  .^gypto-Koptic  plaster-work.  Pushed  out 
of  reach  of  the  ecclesiastical  turmoil,  the  history  of  that  section  of  Christendom  is  instructive. 
We  see  our  religion  petrified  in  antique  style,  streaked  with  Judaistic  .elements,  lost  under 
rituals  scarcely  understood. 

The  liturgical  performances  are  meritorious  works.  The  thought  of  grace  and  salvation  is 
not  entirely  extinct  under  the  rind  of  this  dried-up  side-branch  of  the  Church  despite  her  hier- 
archy, her  180  feast-days,and  300  days  of  fasting.  That  ecclesiastical  body  represents  a  mummi- 
fication unequaled;  because  of  Judaism  not  there  meeting  the  opposition  of  the  Aryan  mind, 
being  left  undisturbed  to  amplify  its  influence,  that  section  of  Christendom  became  disqual- 
ified for  civilisation. 

North  of  Derbend  on  the  slopes  of  the  Caucasian  mountains  toward  the  steppes  of  the 
Volga  and  the  Don  regions  we  find  an  old  Christian  "Kingdom  of  the  Golden  Throne."  This 
throne  stood  at  Sevir ;  Persia  had  once  presented  it  to  the  Sassanides.  In  these  regions,  ac- 
cording to  Jerome,  the  Apostle  Andrew  had  spread  the  gospel.  From  thence  to  the  Phasis 
river  stretches  "Inner  or  Pontic  Aethiopia."  Here  dark-colored  men  arrived  with  the  precious 
stones.  Here  it  is,  as  Ritter  thinks,  that  the  "Prester"  John  reigned,  whose  renown  in  legen- 
dary lustre  extended  deep  into  the  Occident  through  all  the  Middle- Ages.  Subtracting  the 
mythical  elements,  we  need  not  doubt  that  a  Christian  state  existed  there.  What  Islam  made 
of  it  is  5-hown  by  the  ruins  around  the  Black  Sea,  if  we  consider  them  as  remnants  of  that 
state  rather  than  offshoots  of  the  Armenian  church. 

And  now  we  proceed  to  Byzantium  whose  dominion  includes  both  of  these  parts 
from  Pontus  to  Habesh.  By  viewing  the  whole  we  shall  understand  and,  perhaps,  ap- 
preciate them  a  little  better  in  their  present  significance.  In  the  capital  of  East- 
Rome  stood  Constantine's  figure  upon  a  pillar  in  stylite  fashion.  At  his  feet  burned 
lamps,  attended  to  by  praying  people.    This  characterises  the  whole  empire. 

Along  with  the  captive  virgins  of  Greece,  the  sacred  things  of  old  Hellas  had  to  be  deliv- 
ered at  Constantine's  city.  The  ivory  Parthenos  of  Phidias,  taken  down  from  the  once  proud 
pedestal,  stood  now  before  the  palace  of  the  senate,  stared  at  by  the  populace.  In  the  imperial 
palace  the  muses  of  Helicon  were  set  up.  The  Pythian  Apollos  with  the  gilt  tripod  decorated 
the  Hippodrome.  Finally  the  images  of  Zeus,  Aphrodite,  and  Artemisia  reappeared  in  the 
Church  of  St.  Sophia.  Not  less  noteworthy  were  the  heaps  of  manuscripts  rescued  from  Hellas 
and  sheltered  in  the  libraries  of  the  emperor  atid  the  patriarch. 

In  the  building  of  St.  Sophia's  Church  pillars  from  Ephesus  were  rendered  useful;  so 
were  those  pillars  of  porphyry  which  Aurelian  once  had  dedicated  to  the  sun-temple.  Works 
of  art  from  Asia  Minor  stood  by  the  side  of  pieces  of  booty  from  Hellas.  Byzantium  really 
seems  to  have  been  designated  as  the  museum  and  conservatory  of  a  subsided  culture. 

The  dogmas  of  the  church  governed  the  empire.  Adjoining  the  church  of  Mary, 
in  somber  seclusion,  stood  the  parsonage  of  the  patriarch.  Whoever  passed  his  gate, 
crossed  the  arms  upon  the  breast  and  made  a  deep  bow.  From  this  imitation  of  the 
"High  Portes"  of  the  Orient  numerous  messages  were  expedited  daily  over  a  consider- 
able part  of  the  globe.  This  patriarch's  diocese  extended  from  the  neighborhood  of 
the  Baltic  Sea  to  the  cataracts  of  the  Nile.  The  ancient  gentile  thought  had  been 
restored  to  power,  at  the  time  when  Chrysostomos  congratulated  the  Antiochians  on 
their  city  being  fortified  by  relics  all  around.  For  we  must  know,  that  land  and  sea 
were  filled  with  them.  Shrines  of  relics,  and  the  pictures  of  the  "Mother  of  God'* 
fastened  to  the  masts  of  the  Byzantine  ships,  crossed  the  waters  everywhere. 

The  art  of  the  empire,  here  as  ever  emblematic  of  the  national  character,  became 
stationary,  stiff,  conventional. 

The  Second  Nicaean  Council  already  saw  fit  to  decree  as  an  utterance  of  the  Holy 
Spirit,  that  artistic  representations  should  not  be  left  to  the  fancy  of  an  artist,  but 
should  keep  in  strict  compliance  with  the  traditions  of  the  church.  The  copy-book  of 
Kyrillos  of  Chios,  containing  all  the  pictures  of  the  saints,  was  henceforth  made  obliga- 
tory, strictly  to  be  followed  by  the  painters,  and  the  monastery  upon  Mt.  Athos  had 
charge  of  the  rigid  surveillance  of  art.  Personality,  ingenuity  and  talent  were 
under  bans,  monotonous  technique  alone  remained.  Not  until  we  have  looked  at  a 
picture  of  the  infant  Krishna  upon  his  mother's  lap,  the  heads  of  both  surrounded 
by  radiant  haloes,  and  only  after  we  have  seen  Isis  with  Horns  on  her  lap,  are  we  pre- 
pared to  understand  the  stiff  and  repulsive  forms  of  the  Byzantine  Mary,  the 
theotokos  with  the  child. 

By  degrees  the  pictures  of  the  Redeemer  become  more  lank,  bony,  shocking.  From 
them  He  can  no  longer  be  recognised  as  the  Liberator  and  Friend  of  man.  The  re- 
ligion of  the  world  had  been  rendered  so  worldly  as  to  usurp  the  worse  than  worldly 
throne.    This  explains  why  Christ  from  that  period  on  appears  in  the  awful  majesty 


n.  E.  CH.  in.  §  126.        THE  CHUBCH  ORIENTALISED,  POMP  AND  BARBARISM.  241  ' 

of  the  stern  imperial  judge  amidst  a  courtly  suite  of  apostolic  and  saintly  attendants  Deformity  of  christian 

.,,     ,,  ,  ,.,.  i»  ,.  ,.  cognition  of  humanity 

With  the  addition  of  an  angelic  retinue.  as  mirrored  in  the 

pictures  of  the  Savior. 

To  correspond  with  the  pompous  splendor  of  the  court  and  to  adorn  the  interiors  of  the  §  137, 139, 180. 

palaces  those  figures  were  framed  into  mosaics  of  sparkling-  jewels  set  in  colored  glasses.  With 
the  sixth  century  that  golden  background  begins  to  be  indispensable,  upon  which  the  figures 
appear      as  heartless  as  possible.    To  inspire  the  devotees  with  awe,  they  are  made  to  stare 
equally  fierce  and  selfish.     These  pictures  show  not  a  sign  of  life  or  action ;  only  serious  and  ^^  reveals  the  state  of 
ceremonious  sanctimoniousness  is  idealised,  if  a  picture  of  absolute  pharisseism  can  idealise  culture  and  the 
any  such  frame  of  mind.  cSmn^puÄife 

Such  dreadful  looking  ideals  menace  the  people  through  centuries  from  Ravenna  "riÄ'i,  132, 139,  ise, 
to  Erzerum,  supplanting  the  preceding  Christian  art  everywhere,  so  that  no  trace  of  '     ' 

it  would  have  been  left,  had  it  not  been  for  the  sleepingrchambers  of  the  early 
Christians. 

§  126.  Think  of  it:  repulsive  pictures  of  the  Christ  expressly  made  to  represent 
nothing  but  the  fanaticism  of  intolerance.  For  so  far  the  thought  of  humanism  and 
the  love  to  fellow-men  had  been  diminished  in  this  kind  of  Christianity,  that  it 
seemed  to  have  outlived  persecution  and  to  have  conquered  only  to  indulge  in  re- 
taliative  persecution  itself. 

The  situation  did  not  change  when  the  country  lay  open,  a  prey  to  hordes  ol  savages.  Cause  of  the  decline  of 
"The  empire  received  its  last  and  most  deadly  wounds,"  says  Gibbon,  "during  the  minority  of     ^^^'^  '     *      "^  ' 
the  sons  and  grandsons  of  Theodosius.     When  these  incapable  princes  seemed  to  have  arrived  Byzantine  Pharisaism 
at  the  age  of  puberty,  they  relinquished  the  empire  to  the  eunuchs,  the  Church  to  the  bishops,  for**governmenY"  "' 
and  the  provinces  to  the  barbarians." 

This  in  essence  continued  to  be  the  case  when  at  home  the  rulers  fought  out  dogmatic  intestine  outbreaks  of 
subtleties  even  at  the  races  and  the  games  in  the  hippodrome,  where  on  more  than  one  occasion  *'^'i'^*i<='^'"' 
the  blood  of  citizens  was  poured  out  in  floods.    This  continued  whilst  on  the  borders  Huns  whilst  hordes  of 
and  Bulgarians  made  their  raids  unchecked,  drawing  nearer  and  nearer  until  they  arrived  nTrrow  down'thT''^ 

before  the  portcullies  of  the  capital.  territorial  extent.of 

^        They  sneered  at  the  long,  strong  walls,  parapeted  and  studded  with  towers,  extending     ^  empire, 
from  the  city  up  to  Salymbria,  and  down  to  the  Black  Sea ;  the  walls  notwithstanding,  they   »^d  serve  retaliation 
ravaged  the  empire  up  to  the  Termophylees.  It  is  an  assured  fact,  that  the  court  and  the  pop-  "^° 
ulace   of  Byzantium  allowed  themselves  to  become  vulgarised  by  coming   in  contact  with  cruelties  perpetrated 
those  crude  peoples.    Piercing  out  eyes,  cutting  off  noses,  ears,  &c.  was  carried  on  by  whole-  by  princes  under  the 
sale.  Even  Samuel,  the  prince  of  the  Bojares,.  fainted  away  from  horror  at  the  sightof  fifteen  influences  of  court- 
thousand  of  his  warriors,  which  the  emperor  had  returned  to  him  with  their  eyes  pierced  out.      ^^  °^' 
But  the  blinded  ones  were  called  the  "barbarians",  and  our  school-books  still  copy  the  and  under  dread  of 

,       J  palace-revolutions. 

slander. 

Employing  measures  like  these  the  emperors  thought  to  shield  their  persons 
against  palace-revolutions,  and  their  provinces  against  the  invasions  of  "savages."  The 
possessions  reached  much  too  far,  however,  for  such  a  method  of  defense.  Just  re- 
member the  permanent  struggles  with  Parthia  and  with  the  Persian  kingdom  of  the 
Sassanides. 

Byzantium  now  divided  with  Rome  the  old  honor  of  being  the  seat  of  the  central 
power,  that  reached  from  the  Thames  to  the  Indus,  that  ruled  over  Treves  and  Petra. 
What  a  stretch  of  border  line  was  there  to  be  defended. 

It  i^instructive  to  observe,  first,  the  long  contest  between  Borne  and  Parthia,  then  the  Borders  defenseless 
wars  with  the  Sassanides.      There  in  Rome  and  Byzantium  the  centers  of  a  power  dom- 
inating the  western  world  from  Athens  and  Alexandria  to  the  Rhone  and  the  Thames,  here  a   ^*'*^^- 
romance  of  Persian  knighthood  in  rows  from  Tyre  to  the  Indus.     What  a  line  between  these     "  g^rians. 
terminals !  The  spirit  of  chivalry  had  not  as  yet  died  out  in  the  regions  between  the  Leontes, 
Indus  and  Volga.     But  see  how  the  lines  are  forcpd  by  Huns,   and  Goths,  and  Bulgarians. 
From  the  South  the  Saracens  even  are  in  sight,  falling  in  line  with  the  skirmishing  sons  of 
Ishmael  and  Esau.    Thus  the  emperors,ever  trembling  for  their  lives,  could  scarcely  avoid  be- 
coming unapproachable  cowards  and  blood-thirsty  despots.    The  eastern  emperors  were  even 
more  menaced  than  their  associates  in  the  West.    For  here  monkish  fanaticism  and  contempt 
of  life  had  wrought  a  sturdy  race  of  subjects  into  foes  more  fierce  and  aggressive  than  any 
which  history  thus  far  had  met. 

Diocletian  already,  who  had  pressed  forward  beyond  the  Tigris,  had  adopted  the  court-  Diocletian  introduced 
etiquette  of  Xerxes  for  his  household.     "His  sacred  deity,  the  emperor"  was  to  be  addressed  new  features  of 
on  bended  knees.  His  golden  diadem  was  an  imitation  of  the  Persian  tiara  which  Cyrus  wore.  "His^sac'red  majesty, 

The  doggish  sycophancy  in  officious  ovations  of  despotism  knew  no  bounds.      Manliness  *J*®  ^™^tf°ra''  S  78 

had  disappeared  as  well  as  feminine  decency.    "Servile  oratory"   lasted  as  long  as  the  empire 
with  its  abject  prostration  before  emperors  of  whom  the  greater  number  were  monsters  of 
cruelty  and  effeminacy.    This  abuse  of  the  Greek  language  had  been  commenced  by  the  two  ^^''"^^gVlK  T3*7*'l*o". 
Eusebiuses,  the  father  of  Church-history  as  well  as  the  Nicomedian.  The  oriental  ceremonials 
were  kept  up  for  appearance  sake  until  the  boundaries  of  the  empire  had  melted  away  to  the  *"<^  effeminacy. 
limits  of  the  capital  and  pomp  became  ridiculous. 


242 


Contrast  between 
pompousness  and 
impotency. 


Emperors  In  dread  of 
their  fanatical  subjects 
entrust  themselves  to 

body-guards  of 
barbarians. 

History  of 

Byzantinism 


demonstrates  the 
mischief  of  the 
Augustinian  theory, 

§  78,  122,  U4,  150. 

amalgamating- 

THRONE  &   AliTAB 

priest  and  king 

in  one  person. 

§  54,  55,  56,  59,  61, 

77,  97, 124, 127,  137, 

145, 148-150, 165, 

178, 191. 


Sum  and  substance  of 
the  first  phase  of 
civilisation. 


Conditions  in  the  West 
modified  by  the 
Oermanic  element. 


Justinian's  figure 
«mblematic  of 
Byzantinism ; 


code  of  law  in  one  hand, 
model  of  St.  Sophia 
in  the  other. 


State's  rights 

subordinate,  and  state 
power  made  sub- 
servient to  a 

priest-state. 

ÜEBaENBCETHER. 

Armies  of  clericals. 


Collection  of  laws. 

i  133,236,  141. 


Heraclius  carrying  the 
"holy  cross"  back  from 
Persia  to  Jerusalem. 


Receives  a  letter  from 
Mohamed.  §  124. 


RESULT  OF  BYZANTINISM.  II.  E.  Ch.  II.  §  127. 

A  strange  contrast  that,  between  the  despicable  fright  and  impotentency— and 
the  dress;  robes  heary  with  gold  embroidery,  purple  buskins,  a  high  silken  cap 
decked  with  pearls  and  jewels,  surmounted  by  the  Persian  tiara  tapering  out  in  a 
globe  and  a  cross.  Helpless  were  now  these  proud  cesars,  had  it  not  been  for  the  sup- 
port of  the  wild  Warsegians  rushing  in  for  martial  employment  and  for  payment  in 
gold  or  land-distiicts.  These  foreigners  were  made  body-guards,  since  they  could 
best  be  trusted  with  the  protection  of  the  emperor's  life  when  he  went  to  church. 

Surrounding  the  emperor,  with  double-edged  battle-axes  upon  their  broad 
shoulders,  they  marched  with  him  to  the  senate  or  to  the  hippodrome.  In  their  keep- 
ing were  the  keys  to  the  treasury,  to  the  purple  state-hall,  and  to  the  sleeping-room 
of  their  master. 

Such  was  the  embodiment  of  the  Plato-Augustinian  idea  of  "the  State  of  God"  in  the 
Byzantine  dominion,  New-Rome  and  New-Jerusalem  combined. 

History  in  this  case  again  and  forever  has  demonstrated  that  this  Augustinian 
idea  is  mischievous;  that  servitude  is  inevitable  where  king  or  priest  in  the  same 
person  usurps  either  office. 

There  will  be  plenty  of  cheap  imperial  benedictions ;  every  soldier  may  have  a  piece  of 
paper  soaked  with  ''holy"  oil  as  a  charm  and  talisman  in  war.  No  wonder  that  the  pious  sol- 
diers clamor  for  three  emperors  instead  of  one.  They  insist  upon  an  imperial  trinity  upon 
earth  as  the  symbol  of  the  Trinity  in  Heaven. 

The  end  of  it  all  was  a  general  torpidness  in  formalism  and  hypocr^cy,  a  perpetual  in- 
trigue for  getting  into  the  dangerous  position  of  power— and  homicide. 

§  127.  Ready  to  depart  from  old  style  Romanism  and  Byzantinism  in  the  Medi- 
terranean basin,  it  is  befitting  to  sum  up  the  results  of  the  first  phases  of  Christian 
culture. 

We  mentioned  that  the  extension  of  the  old  empire,  in  its  Greek  capital  at  least, 
was  the  museum  of  classic  antiquities.  The  inheritance  of  which  Rome  took  posses- 
sion when  the  empire  was  divided,  was  differently  influenced  and  managed  in  Rome 
and  Ravenna  from  the  way  it  was  in  Constantinople.  Here  oriental  stability  as  re- 
pristinated  upon  government;  whilst  the  conditions  in  the  western  part  were  some- 
what modified  by  the  Germanic  element.  When  western  Rome  had  become  ex- 
hausted, simultaneously  with  oriental  effeminacy  and  dissimulation  in  eastern  Rome, 
where  the  walls  were  built  to  be  manned  by  hired  men  from  the  North;  then  that 
sanctimonious  langour  and  diplomatic  wickedness  became  the  fixed  character  of  the 
East,  which  ever  since  goes  by  the  name  of  Byzantinism. 

For  five  centuries  ancient  Romanism  had  controlled  the  culture  of  the  world. 
Now  Constantinople  took  the  lead  from  Edessa  to  Venice— for  a  short  period. 

One  gift  which  the  Latin  part  later  on  got  back  from  the  East,  we  will  not  slight, 
altho  it  has  received  more  praise  than  its  merits  account  for,  viz:  Roman  Jurispru- 
dence. Justinian's  finely  executed  picture  shows  him  as  he  points  to  his  code  of 
Roman  laws  with  one  hand,  and  to  the  church  of  St.  Sophia  with  the  other.  It  means 
a  great  deal.  For  a  great  accomplishment,  and  a  peculiar  product  of  history,  is  the 
completion  of  a  Christian  priest-state,  to  which  state-rights  are  subordinated  and 
made  subservient. 

In  the  memorable  year  622  A.  D.  the  church  of  St.  Sophia  supported  more  than  eighty 
clerical  officers,  of  which  fact  Hergenroether  made  a  memorandum.  This  was  the  number 
remaining  after  an  express  reduction  by  Justinian.  But  in  addition  to  the  eighty  priests, 
there  were  one  hundred  and  fifty  deacons,  seventy  subdeacons,  and  one  hundred  and  sixty 
readers  in  attendance. 

The  army  officers  and  curates  connected  with  the  other  25  new  churches,  if  averaging  in 
this  ratio,  must  have  been  large  enough  to  maintain  that  controversial  fervency  which  cost 
thirty  thousand  lives  in  the  few  days  of  the  Nica  riot. 

Collecting  and  condensing  the  laws— which  however  this  emperor  learned  from  the  Ger- 
mans in  Spain  and  Burgundy— did  evidently  not  at  all  accrue  to  the  elevation  of  morality. 
It  is  a  portentous  mistake  to  expect  civilisation  from  either  priestly  or  royal  legislation. 

Emperor  Heraclius  entrusted  the  patriarch  and  "the  Mother  of  God"  with  the  regency 
when  he  went  against  the  Persians.  He  wrenched  the  "Holy  Cross"  from  them  in  order  that 
he  might,  walking  barefooted  at  the  head  of  his  soldiers,  carry  it  back  through  the  gates  of 
Jerusalem. 

Nobody  had  any  idea  that  the  letter  he  had  received  on  the  way  from  a  certain  crank  by 
the  name  of  Muhamed  would  cause  such  reverses  to  him,  and  such  a  tension  in  history.  Like 
the  cloud  of  a  tornado  Islami  arose  in  the  same  year,  in  the  year  of  the  Hegira. 


n  E.  Ch.  m.  §  128.  state-theocracy;  legalism;  semitism.  243 

This,  then,  is  the  significance  of  Byzantium:    It  was  to  be  the  place  of  retire-  Constantinople  the 
ment  for  ancient  Greek  culture.    In  due  time  it  should  become  the  bridge  also,  across  ?emn*äÄf'd4ic 
which  these  fragments  would  be  carried  by  fugitives  to  an  asylum  in  the  West.    By-  safX'ip"ng°becauie 
zantium  was  well  adapted  to  conserve  the  classic  products  of  the  Aryan  mind.    It  KifiTance,**'''''^  1 137. 
was  the  better  fit  for  such  safe-keeping,  as  it  was  too  stupid  and  selfconceited  to  ap- 
preciate the  treasures.    Had  it  been  otherwise  the  "classics"  would  in  all  probability  ^„^11  the  time 
have  been  destroyed.  when  the  West 

would  better 

Roman  law  and  Cesaro-papism  were  to  be  the  vehicle  for  carrying,  at  the  proper  appreciate  them, 
time,  the  mixture  of  Greek  culture  and  Christianity— such  as  it  was— to  the  Occident      i42^end,  145,  m. 
where  Cesaro-papism  prepared  the  peoples  for  the  transition  from    bondage     under  Task  of  each  branch  of 
the  law  to  gospel-freedom.    This  then  prevailing  form  of  government  was  similar  to  ^°™'"'  cesaro-papism. 
that  of  tlie  East,  in  that  this  alone  was  able  to  throw  the  raw  material  of  Persian,  fhe  trSion^f r"™  the 
Slavonian  and  Saracen  hordes,  gnostics  and  monks,  too,  into  the  smelter.  ^'G^l^pei^rlldom  "'^ '  *" 

The  mission  of  the  Byzantine  dominion  to  serve  as  a  safety  vault  and  as  a  bridge  for  Painting  in  the  cloister 
Hellenic  culture  is  typified  in  an  old  picture  on  one  of  the  ceilings  of  the  great  old  cloister  at  Atho^s.'"'*  "^""^    *"§  125. 
Iviron  upon  Mt.  Athos.  Represented  is  the  Holy  Virgin  upon  the  throne,  surrounded  by  angels,  jToressh   d 
prophets,  and  apostles;  but  Plato,  Aristotle,  Sophocles,  Thucydides  are  also  present.    Is  it  not  the  reunion  of 
like  a  prophetic  vision  of  a  future  in  which  should  be  understood  again :— the  real  sublimity  the  old  and  true 
and  catholicity  of  the  evangelical  thought  ?  Aryatiism"  with 

CH.  III.    THE  CHURCH  AND  THE  TALMUD.  clthoiiiityl 

§  128.    In  the  Third  Division  we  introduced  a  group  of  the  Semites  as  a  neces-  ^  ^^^'  ^4^^  1^^  J^; 
sary  element  and  coefficient  energy  in  the  task  assigned  to  the  Mediterranean  culture,  characteristic 
The  Hebrews  were  especially  important  as   the  vessel  into  which  the  solvent  in-  propensities  of  the 

~  ^  •'  ^  Semites  in  comparison 

gredient  had  been  poured  out  from  above,  and  as  being  instrumental  in  distributing  X''*ans^°'^  **^  *''^S88  93 
the  remedy  among  the  nations  for  their  recovery.  True  to  the  Semitic  temper  in 
general  the  Jews  with  an  eye  to  their  own  interest  gave  prescriptions  but  did  not  take 
the  remedy  themselves.  Well  adapted  tho  they  were  to  intermeddle  and  to  diffuse, 
they  seemed  utterly  disqualified  to  accept  the  thought  of  Isaiah  to  "buy  without  money 
and  without  price."  They  did  not  take  if  not  allowed  to  domineer.  Hence  in  keep- 
ing with  their  natural  disposition  to  hold  their  own,  and  not  seeing  in  their  head- 
strong perverseness  that  they  threw  away  the  seed  kernel  grown  in  the  hull  of  their  ^^.^^^.^  ^  ^.^^ 
own  externalism;  they  thought  it  meritorious  to  reject  what  seemed  alien  to  their  Christianity  is  the 

'  "  '^  "  kernel  or  Judaism 

nature  and  their  traditions,  and  in  their  obduracy  turned  their  full  animosity  against  ^„heitnc"'^  bondot 
the  new  raovemei.t,  making  the  animosity  their  religion  and  single  force  of  coherency. 
Let  us  recapitulate  what  we  gleaned  after  the  reapers  in  the  field  of  Sem.    We  ap- 
preciated the  receptivity  of  the  Semites.    They  took  a  firm  hold  of  the  one  transcend- 
ental deity,  which  compels  man  to  absolute  dependence.    This  dependence  was  per-  Jewish  affectation  o^f  ^^ 
ceived,  however,  as  an  onerous  servitude  which  renders  earthly  life  colorless,  and 
produces  an  habitual  affectation  of  ennui. 

The  Semitic  frame  of  mind  may  best  be  seen  in  its  contrast  to  the  Aryan.    The  Aryan  Aryan  frame  of  mind 
manifests  versatility  and  is  inclined  to  divert  his  mind  in  the  manifold  of  nature.  In  his  fond-  "^  comparison.    §93,1    , 
ness  for  analysing  he  becomes  so  attached  to  nature's  beauties  as  to  let  his  diverted  mind  run  Aryan  addicted  to  a 
to  dissipation.     Because  not  so  intensely  interested  in  the  externals  of  religion,  the  Aryan  the^uTindt'sentimen-'*  ** 
shows  more  considerateness  for   the  personal  sentiments  of  others,  and  more  tolerance.    Be-  *»»*>■..  speculation, 
cause  of  his  idealistic  anticipations  being  disappointed  so  often,  he  gives  himself  up  to  scepti-  melancholy. 
cism,  grows  melancholy,  and  loves  to  brood  and  to  speculate. 

The  temper  of  the  Semite,  as  a  general  thing,  is  quite  the  opposite.     Above  all  he  is  in-  Semite  given  to  deism, 
flated  with  a  great  amount  of  selfesteem ;  for  altho  cringing  towards  the  powers  that  be,he  is,   corresponding 
whenever  selfishness  requires,  oppressive  to  those  he  thinks  below  him.     Concealing  under  inconsiderateness  of 

,      ■,.     ,  -^         e     1  •  -,..  ^.  ,.  ,,  other  peoples  troubles; 

a  studied  gravity  or  deportment  every  sign  of  his  inner  emotions,  he  is  naturally  prone  to  vindictiveness, 
deceitf ulness,and  to  count  upon  external  appearance.  We  admire  his  faculty  for  concentration  calculation,  ennui, 
which  makes  the  dispersion  of  his  nation  the  only  calamity  which  causes  him  real  grief.    He 
adheres  to  rigid  dogmatism,  and  his  fanatical  vindictiveness  for  being  baulked  in  justifying 
and  carrying  out  his  wrong  world-theory  is  more  dangerous  than  his  making  proselytes. 

The  Semite's  view  of  the  world  and  mode  of  life  tends  not  to  nature  or  agricul-  Aversion  to 
ture;  it  centers  in  God  and  in  himself  as  number  one.    In  regard  to  the  world  he  cal-  prosp^^ect^^pert  in 
culates,  is  ever  full  of  prospects,  and  an  expert  in  the  art  of  financiering.    Hence 


credit  is  due  to  Semitic  development:  with  reference  to  religion  and  ethics  for  every- 
thing; concerning  the  part  it  took  in  aiding  cultural  progress  on  the  scope  of  practi- 
cal life:  for  commerce,  distributing  products,  for  traffic  and  financiering;  in  science 
for  something,  namely  astronomy,  measures  and  ciphers;  in  arts,  nothing. 


244 


TALMUDISM  AND  MOHAMMEDANISM. 


n.  E.  Ch.  m.  §  128. 


Aryan  quMified  for  art, 
science,  philosophy; 
a  born  agriculturist. 

Semite  a  nomade; 
aversion  to 
handicraft  is  not 
disavowed ; 
a  born  trader; 
poor  warrio!^ 

cosmopolitan ; 


seeks  popularity,  puts 
up  with  indignities, 
affects  patriotism, 
ideality  and  fidelity  to 
principles. 

Predilection  for 
judicial  positions. 

AfPecting 

philanthropy. 

Utilising  other  peoples' 
secrets  and 
embarrassments. 

Making  gossip  a 
business,  eminently 
qualifying  him  for 

journalism. 


Semitism  forced  into 
Mohammedanism. 


Talmud 


and 

Koran 


instrumental  in  stirring 
up  Christendom. 


Semitic  assaults  had  to 
unite  Christian   nations. 


The  appellation 

Anti-Semitic 

may  cause  inquiry 
as  to  what 

Anti-Christian 


The  "higher  criticism" 
in  sympathy  with 
Talmudism  called  forth 
wholesome 
counteraction. 

g  19.  168 


Church  under 
obligation  to  Jewish 
effrontery. 

Reasons  for  our 
indifference  as  to 
Anti-Semitic  agitation. 

Encroachments  of 
Judaism  to  b« 
retrenched.  §  200 


But  the  Semite  must  be  understood  from  another  aspect.  If  the  Aryan  is  a  Christian,  he 
is  best  qualified  for  art,  science,  and  philosophy.  At  any  rate  he  is  the  champion  of  freedom, 
resists  theBad,and  is  an  agriculturist  to  "the  manor  born."  He  loves  the  soil  of  his"Heimath," 
and  may  become  homesick  for  his  native  village.  Now  the  Semite  can  never  deny  the  stamp 
of  t^at  national  character  which  was  impressed  upon  the  House  of  Israel  during  the  first 
period  of  the  exceptional  position  to  which  it  had  been  appointed.  Raised  upon  a  narrow 
strip  of  the  earth's  surface,  most  of  which  was  a  wilderness,  the  Semite  is  a  nomade.  Hence 
love  for  the  soil  is  lacking  entirely,  agricultural  pursuits  are  avoided,  and  aversion  to  handi- 
craft is  not  disavowed. 

As  a  born  trader  the  Semite  loves  city  life,  and.  being  spoiled  for  patriotism,  is  a  poor 
warrior.  As  a  cosmopolitan  he  takes  no  pleasure  in  the  idyllic,  possesses  no  principles  and 
takes  no  interest  in  ideals.  But  he  likes  to  affect  all  this,  for  the  sake  of  the  popularity  which 
he  needs  in  order  to  become  a  power  behind  the  throne.  He  can  put  up  with  indignities  as 
far  as  he  sees  a  chance  of  turning  them  to  his  account  and  of  coming  out  triumphant  in  the 
end.  In  law  he  is  well  versed  so  as  to  keep  himself  out  of  its  meshes  and  to  get  others  in.  He 
then  knows  how  to  get  them  out  again  and  to  play  ofiP  philanthropist  under  certain  stipula- 
tions. He  knows  how  to  pry  into,  and  to  utilise  other  people's  secrets  and  predicaments. 
Making  gossip  a  business  he  is  quick  to  swing  himself  into  the  saddle  of  journalism ;  watching 
the  failings  of  others,  which  he  may  render  opportune  for  improving  his  own  chances,  he  can 
in  this  latter  sphere  most  profitably  unfold  his  talent  of  intermeddling. 

What  the  Semite  lacks  of  talent  for  organising  states— despite  his  good  qualities  for 
domestic  life— he  makes  up  in  talent  for  organising  finances.  Through  concentrated  enter- 
prise he  will  occupy  and  try  to  monopolise  the  domain  of  commerce. 

For  the  Jew  the  best  mode  of  preserving  and  utilising  his  talents  for  the  world  in 
a  legitimate  way,  of  enriching  these  talents  for  his  own  true  benefit,  would  have  been 
to  step  forth  from  the  clannish  narrowness  of  Semitism  and  to  ennoble  the  natural 
inheritance  through        Christian  cultivation  of  the  mind. 

Inasmuch  as  the  Ishmaelites  and  Israelites  did  not  enter  Christianity,  they  were  side- 
tracked. It  will  be  of  no  avail  to  the  latter  to  obtrude  themselves  upon  Christian  civilisation, 
or  try  to  sneak  in  on  their  own  conditions  in  order  to  disintegrate  in  their  cunning  manner 
from  within,  what  they  could  not  demolish  in  open  combat. 

For  in  spite  of  affecting  philanthropy  after  the  very  pattern  of  Judas  the  Tscariotite,  in 
spite  of  acting  persecuted  innocence,  Semitism  cannot  conceal  its  merciless,  hateful  and 
fanatical  particularism. 

Semitism  was  forced  partly  into  Mohammedanism,partly  into  Talmudism.  To  the 
latter  the  Jew  is  chained,  altho  he  may  boast  of  his  unconcern  as  to  any  religion;  tho 
he  may  simulate  indignation  over  any  symptom  of  inhumaneness;  tho  he  may  avail 
himself  of  pretended  agnosticism  in  order  to  make  friends  among  nominal  Christians 
and  fraternise  with  them:  the  modern  adherents  of  posthumous  Talmudism  are  the 
deadly  foes  of  Aryan  Christian  culture.  The  well-spring  of  this  antagonism  is 
the  Talmud.  Its  acquaintance  must  be  made  together  with  its  companion  and  con- 
temporary, the  Koran.  Both  these  foes  of  Christ's  religion  seem  to  have  been  designed 
by  history  to  irritate  and  stimulate  the  culture  issuing  therefrom. 

The  pernicious  methods  b:~  which  the  weakness,  the  failings,  and  embarrassments  of  the 
Christians  are  espied  and  taken  advantage  of,  should  remind  Christendom  of  the  duty  of  self- 
criticism  and  circumspection.  By  repeated  assaults  the  Christians  are  reminded,  that  in- 
ternal dissensions  must  give  place  to  a  united  defense  against  the  foe  without.  Constantinople 
and  Jerusalem  witness  to  the  advantage  which  Semitism  takes  of  the  weakness  of  Christen- 
dom to  this  day.  Hence  the  latter  as  yet  needs  a  spur  to  its  flanks  and  a  prick  to  its  heels  to 
urge  it  onward,  and  to  awaken  it  to  the  consciousness  of  the  contrast,  and  of  its  task  to  pre- 
serve the  essentials  of  European  civilisation  against  the  encroachments  of  Semitic  money- 
power.  Since  in  our  own  days  the  word  Anti-Semite  has  a  jarring  sound  it  would  be  well  to 
inquire  what  Anti-Christian  means.  Perhaps  the  investigation  will  be  called  up  shortly,  just 
as  the  rich  literature  on  the  "Life  of  Christ"  in  recent  years  was  called  forth  by  the  dis- 
paraging books  written  in  sympathy  with  Talmudism,  and  as  the  publication  of  this  book  was 
stimulated  by  a  certain  anonymous  "History  of  Civilisation  of  the  World"  in  four  volumes,  in 
sympathy  with  the  adherents  of  Talmudism.  The  Church  might  have  succumbed  under  facn 
tional  strife  and  intellectual  inertia.  It  was  the  scientific  research  after  proofs  for  the  au- 
thenticity of  the  Pentateuch  and  of  Isaiah  which  led  to  the  discovery  of  the  witnessing  stones 
of  Mugheir  and  Tel  el  Amarna.  These  are  our  reasons  for  being  indifPerent  as  to  Anti-Semi- 
tism and  for  acknowledging  ourselves  under  obligation  to  Semitism.  But  since  it  is  undeni- 
able that  the  ancient  element,  chiefly  in  the  shape  of  Judaism,  seek  ways  to  assail  and  to 
undermine  the  Christian  cognition  of  Theo-Humanism,  we  emphatically  insist  upon  our  right 
to  arrange  affairs  of  Christianity  and  criticism,  to  settle  points  of  the  Christian  world-theory 
in  our  own  way,  and  desire  to  be  ignored  by  Semitism. 

The  fact,  that  occidental  history  up  to  modern  times  seems  to  have  been  destined 
to  move  between  the  Semitic  and  the  Aryo-Christian  frames  of  mind  as  between  two 


n  E.  Ch.  ni.  §  129.     TALMUD,  A  WORLD-THEORY  AND  COHESIVE  CENTER.  245 

poles,  we  have  to  admit.    Before  we  get  through  we  may  have  become  aware,  that  the 
irritating  effects  of  the  polarity  reach  remarkably  far  aud  deep. 

§  129.    Let  us  prove  this  polarity  first  from  direct  encroachments  of  Talmudism.  Effects  of  Taimudism 

o  r  r  .^  .    upon  civilisation. 

As  soon  as  that  "way  and  truth"  had  been  banished  from  Jerusalem,  for  which 
the  Jewish  race  had  served  as  a  vessel  and  vehicle  until  it  had  emptied  itself  and 
was  left  to  itself,  its  ominous  unsympathetical  nature  became  conspicuous.  In  the 
first  books  of  the  Talmudistic  collections  already  it  betrayed  its  nature,  where  it 
poses  upon  the  bizarre  mystifications  of  the  rabbis,  and  gives  vent  to  its  surrepti- 
tious fanaticism. 

Assuming'  an  attitude  of  self-sufficiency  for  the  sake  of  effect  the  Talmud  composes  the  ,,   ^      x,    ^   u    •    * 
,.,  ,.r.  oT-.,        ••  1-1  T  1  ■  n-  .  Systematised  phans^ism 

Jewish  traditions  into  a  system  or  Phansaeism  which  renders  the  most  triHing  observances, 

void  of  any  intellectual  or  ethical  value  whatever— into  law. 

Its  own  exclusiveness  notwithstanding,  Judaism  in  its  usual  effrontery  outwitted  the 

Roman  law  in  obtaining  chartered  franchises  for  its  own.    Thus  Talmudism  became  legalised 

in  organising  itself  against  all  the  world,  aud  against  Roman  state-unity  in  particular. 

The  Jews  ever  since  have  deported  themselves  as  born  lawyers,  as  experts  in  making  out  "Lawyers  and 
their  cases  through  casuistry.    Judaism  took  a  liking  to  Rome  in  proportion  to  the  growth  of  ^ute'charter'^to'iegaltae 
Rome's  hatred  against  the  Crucified.    And  Rome  was  only  too  well  pleased  to  return  a  little  their  own  traditional 
liking  since  Judaism  would  stoop  to  serve  the  gentile  state,  at  least  in  slandering  and  denun- 
ciating  Christians. 

Gladiatorial  shows,  circuses  and  theatres  were  the  things  most  popular ;  beauties  ranked 
highest  at  court  and  the  Jews  espied  every  opportunity  to  utilise  these  things  in  the  gain  of 
popularity  and  infiuence,  and  to  profit  some  cash  besides.  They  could  now  endure  all  these 
things  in  the  Holy  City.  Even  the  Hellenic-Roman  courts  of  the  Herods  were  tolerated  in  the 
City  of  David,  if  only  Christ's  memory  was  impugned. 

Jerusalem  was  given  into  the  hands  of  the  gentiles  in  return  for  the  victim  of  hatred 
whom  the  Jews  had  delivered  to  Pilate.  They  knew  how  to  keep  clear  of  the  reproach  of  the 
legalised  murder.  The  "Lamb  of  God"  was  sacrificed  by  the  highpriest  under  forms  of 
custom,  of  sacred  tradition,  and  civil  law  combined,  so  as  to  prove  Jewish  innocence.  Semi-  Retaliation  upon 
tism  indignantly  will  deny  the  murder,  but  cannot  deny  the  retaliation.  Jerusalem  fell.  The 
last  of  all  the  states  of  ancient  culture  was  vanquished  as  the  first  nation  which  received  ex- 
emplary punishment  in  the  new  aera. 

Rabbi  Jochanan  was  Nasi.    He  flew  from  the  besieged  city  and  transferred  the  seat  of 
the  Sanhedrin  to  Jamne,  where  the  aristocratic  Jews  had  taken  quarters.    Thus  a  firm  center  synagogue. 
was  founded  at  the  beginning  of  the  great  dispersion.    At  different  times  schools  flourished  in  Synhedrion. 
Babylon,  or  Pumbeditha,   in  Tiberias,  Nahardea,  or  Sera.    Those  of  Babylon  under  their 
Rosh-Galutha  (i.  e.  "head  of  the  captivity")  were  the  most  influential.    Thus  it  happened,  that 
the  commentaries  of  the  Mishna  and  the  Babylonian  Talmud— emblematic  of  Judaism  as  the  ^  .  .     .  ^,    ~  ,     ^  , 

._.,,,.  .,,.,,,  ^      ,.         ^         .    .  .      ,        T  ,         ,  .  Origin  of  the  Talmud  in 

pagodas  are  of  Buddhism— were  compiled  in  the  old  Cushito-Semitic  capital.     It  was  the  object  Babylon  is  ominous. 
of  the  Talmud  to  legalise  the  hatred  of  Christianity,  which  henceforth  was  to  bind  the  dis-  „  ^    ^   ^  ^v 

■,  T  ,ii,,n.,,  .1  .,.  Hatred  of  the  cross 

persed  Jews  together.    Another  bond  of  union  they  have  not.    Another  state  the  dispersed  religiously  sanctioned 
nation  could  never  organise,  since  the  authority  of  the  RoshGalutha  had  dwindled  away  and  therefore'and*henceforth 
the  center  dropped  out.  The  written  tradition  was  to  hold  the  intriguing  union  together  after  i«  the  single  bond  of 
the  Jews,  expelled  from  Persia,  had  taken  refuge  in  Africa  and  Spain,  where  the  disconnected  race."  **'     ^    »speis 
congregations  of  the  Synagogue  dotted  the  Mediterranean  basin. 

One  of  the  most  mysterious  features  of  history  comes  out  in  the  farthest-reach- 
ing influences  ever  exerted  by  these  fragmentary  parts  of  the  house  of  Israel.  In  order 
to  be  just,  due  attention  is  to  be  given  to  the  hidden  cause  of  that  universal  prestige 
which  Judaism  knew  how  to  maintain.    We  must  investigate  the  religious  philoso-  Phantasms  of 

*=•  o  jr  emanation  intermixed 

phy  aflSliated  and  abetted  by  the  Talmud  as  the  source  of  Jewish  propensities.  with  a  corrupt 

"     "  •'  r       r  monotheism.     Kabbala. 

The  post-Christian  speculation  of  the  Jews  contained  in  the  Kabbala,  as  much  as 
the  rabbis  divulged  of  it  in  tracts  and  sermons,  reveals  corrupt  Monotheism,  subse- 
quently adulterated  by  the  oriental  concepts  of  emanation.  This  part  of  the  Jewish 
tradition  which  is  held  very  secret,  views  the  cosmos  as  a  living  body.  By  a  clandes- 
tine relationship  between  the  masculine  and  feminine  principles  all  possible  grades 
and  spheres  of  the  universe  are  brought  under  the  conditions  of  attraction  and  repul- 
sion. 

Every  thing  and  every  event  has  its  anti-type  in  heaven.  A  chain  v/ithout  end,  reaching  ad^te*iaUo*n" 
from  thence  down  into  the  depths  of  nature,  is  so  interlinked  with  all  of  the  consolidary  in- 
terests, that  the  highest  purport  is  seen  in  the  most  insignificant  event,  and  vice  versa.  Thus 
the  chain,  touched  at  the  one  side,  transmits  the  vibration  to  the  other,  like  the  string  of  a 
cithara.This  system  of  the  "sephires"  — the  "hulls"  — is  altogether  based  upon  the  oriental  phan- 
tasm of  emanation.  Only  that  the  garments,  into  which  the  transcendentally  conceived  deity 
clothes  itself,  become  less  ethereal  and  are  more  tensely  woven,  the  nearer  they  approach  the 
material  world. 


246 


Babylonian  substitute 
for  the  Alexandrian 
Bjrnthesis  of  Philo. 

§  77,  93,  100,  10 


Quotations  showing 
the  source  of  Jewish 
effrontery. 


Statutes  improving 
upon  the  Old  Testament, 
reveal  the  roots  of 
Jewish  selfconceit 
and  arrogancy. 


System  of  casuistry  and 
allowances. 


Rabbi  represents  the 
conscience  of  the 
synagogue.         §  130,  13H. 


Source  of  probabllism, 
indulgenoes»   and 
Jesuitical  ethics.      §  163. 


Outcroppings  of  Jewish 
syncretism  to  be 
reviewed  later  on. 

§  164,  200. 


13000  traditional  statutes 
of  elders  exclusive  of 
the  aditional  sayings 
of  Avicebron  and 
Haimonides.    §  180,  150. 


The  biblical  element  in 
Talmudistic  Judaism 
does  not  amalgamate; 


must  be  twisted  to  fit 
Talmudism  by  allegoric 
exegesis. 


BABYLONIAN  EXTRACTION  AND  JESUITICAL  OFFSHOOTS.     II  E.  Ch.  HI  §  130. 

This  in  short  is  the  Talmudistic  attempt  of  the  Babylonian  calculation  to  bridge 
the  chasm  between  the  Infinite  and  the  finite,  which  the  Alexandrian  speculation  of 
a  Philo  found  in  the  Logos.  Tiiis  calculation  employs  a  world  of  ideas  to  render  our 
synthesis  and  Philo's  compromise  superfluous.  But  on  top  of  that  compound  of  scho- 
lasticism, fatalism,  and  silliness,  a  superciliousness  unheard  of  crowds  up  and  foams 
out.  A  ridiculous  haughtiness  has  put  up  its  throne  in  this  Talmud,  the  youngest 
child,  the  latest  structure  of  BABEL. 

The  rabbis  are  kings  and  patriarchs  of  the  world.  Whenever  they  betake  themselves  to 
their  trumpets  "and  before  the  Holy  One,— be  He  magnified,— blow  them,  then  He  rises  in 
Heaven  from  His  chair  of  judgment  and  takes  His  seat  upon  the  throne  of  pardon".  His  figure' 
according  to  rabbi  IshmaeFs  measurement,  from  his  right  arm  to  his  hips  is  seventy  times  ten 
thousand  miles  broad;  his  beard  is  11500  miles  long.  In  the  schools  of  the  firmament  debates 
go  on  before  him  for  and  against  him.  The  rabbis,  being  eternal,  ought  to  know  what  they 
are  about;  but  they  do  not  talk  "out  of  school." 

Israel  is  the  Jacob  of  God.  The  seventy  princes  of  the  seventy  nations  are  devils.  Israel, 
therefore,  is  the  lamb  among  seventy  wolves.  When  the  Messiah  comes,  then  the  Children  of 
Israel  will  ride  on  the  backs  of  the  gentiles ;  each  Israelite  receives  two  thousand  and  eight 
hundred  serfs  from  among  their  number  for  his  private  accommodation. 

From  the  aspect  of  such  grotesque  phantasms  the  light  may  be  derived,  by  which  to  read 
and  explain  Jewish  proclivities.  In  those  statutes,  engrafted  so  as  to  improve  upon  the  Old 
Testament,  lie  the  roots  of  Jewish  selfconceit  and  effrontery.  Every  ideal  which  prompts  the 
Aryan  and  Christian  to  ascend  on  the  scale  of  moral  progress  is  simply  a  thing  of  sarcasm  to 
the  admirers  of  the  phantasmagories  on  the  opposite  pole. 

What  the  infallible  instructor  says  is  to  be  obeyed ;  after  rabbi  N.  N.  has  given  his  de- 
cision, private  thought  about  the  matter  is  indifferent.  In  and  of  itself  no  act  is  punishable ; 
the  question  whether  this  or  that  is  punishable  or  excusable  is  not  thrown  open.  The  question 
Is:  Am  I  allowed?  And  a  permit  is  at  hand  for  anything  short  of  apostasy.  Anything  that 
had  ever  been  held  allowable  by  any  rabbi,  or  which,  under  such  and  such  circumstances  in 
tenor  with  his  other  allowances,  would  most  assuredly  have  been  allowed  by  him,  is  justified. 

The  rabbis  stand  in  proxy  for  the  Jewish  conscience  at  large.  This  is  what  they 
are  paid  for,  and  they  are  the  tutors  of  private  conscience— what  is  left  of  it. 

Here,  therefore,  we  stand  before  the  original  font  of  indulgences,  casuistic  proba- 
bllism, and  Jesuitical  ethics.  This  system  reveals  an  approximation  to  Christian 
thought,  as  embellished  with  second  hand  drapery.  We  shall  have  the  opportunity  to 
demonstrate  how,  by  way  of  Spain,  the  outcroppings  of  allowances  infected  the 
Church.  With  this  object  in  view  we  felt  it  a  duty  to  uncover  the  sources  and  to 
exhibit  the  principles  of  Jewish  intermeddling  with  social  and  ethical  problems  as 
issues  of  this  plagiarism.  For  Talmudistic  religiousness  is  nothing  but  a  shrewd  imi- 
tation of  the  emanistic  picture  of  the  world  as  it  was  reflected  in  the  oriental  brain. 

The  "Traditions  of  the  Elders"— of  which  the  Talmud  already  enumerates  thirteen 
thousand,  and  to  which  at  least  those  of  Avicebron  and  Maimonides  (not  to  speak  of  those  of 
Rabbi  N.  N.)  must  be  counted— is  a  system  of  crazy  dreams  about  sublimity  and  servilism.  This 
pomp  for  the  sake  of  appearances,  and  this  mystifying  symbolism  make  the  Talmud- Jew  a 
sight  to  pity,  if  it  did  not  create  minds  so  unprincipled  and  obtrusive  as  to  provoke  indigna- 
tion ;  and  if  Jewish  cunning  did  not  know  how  to  utilise  the  effects  of  this  indignation  over 
the  s,ystem^tised  pharisseism,  how  to  turn  its  repulsion  into  martyrdom  and  to  its  credit. 

§  130.  The  enormous  fraud  of  Jewish  dogmatism  is  a  quodlibet  accumulation  of 
second-hand  sophistry,  old  lumber,  and  Babylonian  filth.  In  a  loose  way  it  has 
retained  those  shining  jewels  of  truth  once  delivered  to  the  fathers;  but  since  the  Old 
Testament  refuses  to  be  agglutinated  to  the  heterogeneous  elements  of  Babylonian 
origin,  Talmudistic  Judaism  smarts  under  its  incrimination.  These  jewels  of  the 
"Name",  so  burdensome,  are  rolled  from  shoulder  to  shoulder.  They  disarrange  every 
system.  Because  they  can  not  be  understood  in  their  allegorical  interpretation,  rab- 
binical theology  labors  in  vain  to  hide  its  vexation  over  the  failure  to  fit  in  the  pro- 
phecies somewhere.  The  old  palladium  mounted  in  the  grotesque  filigree-work  of 
Babylon  with  its  grave  significance  bears  heavy  upon  the  Jew  as  a  standing  reproach, 
a  pending  verdict  against  unrepented  guilt.  It  ever  haunts  the  perpetrators  of  the 
one  great  plot.  Being  too  headstrong  to  retract,  the  blood  of  the  Testament  shadows 
them  in  their  wanderings  through  the  wide  homeless  world. 

Some  Jews  are  honest  enough  to  give  vent  to  that  deep  seated  melancholy  caused  by  the 
burdensome  jewels,  when  each  year  on  the  tenth  of  August  they  pay  the  Turk  for  a  permit  to 
sigh  and  to  cry  aloud  in  the  corner  under  the  walls  of  Jerusalem.  But  otherwise  second 
childhood  prevails  in  the  odd  and  mannered  observances  of  the  Synagogue,  from  which  in 
comparatively  recent  times  Isaiah  53,  has  finally  been  excluded.  In  all  of  that  the  shy,  consci- 
ence-stricken features  of  old  Ahasuerus  are  plain  to  the  thoughtful  observer. 


n.  E.  Ch.  m.  §  130.     RECEPTIYITT  OF  THE  CHUBCH  TO  STRENGTHEN  A  PLATO-AUGUSTINIAN  IDEAL.      247 

The  studies  of  the  Moorish  sciences  tinctured  with  Talmudism,  in  which  unwary  influence  of  laimudism 
and  irenic  scholastics  once  engaged  themselves,  helped  to  infuse  oriental  thoughts  ^p^^'^the  church  at  the 
into  Christianity  after  all.    The  Church  just  then  showed  many  points  of  affinity  for  5JSj™tu8  aS'  nu 
the  Semitic  compound  of  orientalism.    With  her  ideas  of  the  theocracy,  of  the  high-  and 
priesthood,  and  the  sacrifice,  she  was  especially  receptive  for  the  Jewish  ingredients.  ?Bo^s.^A^ERf Mu"Iif  * 

Thus,  despite  the  fear  of  Manichaeism,  Talmudistic  elements  were  imbibed,  additional      §  122,  129. 129, 144, 
totheJudaistic- Platonic  doctrines  of  Augustine.    We  may  merely  allude  to  the  influence  of        147,148,150,185. 
Maimonides  upon  Albertus  Magnus  and  Thomas  Aquina  which  is  admitted  by  Frohschamer 
(Leipzig  1889) ;  and  by  Michel  (Fulda  1891)  both  of  them  catholics.    (See  also  the  Protestant 
Baumann»on  Thomas  Aquina.) 

Maimonides,  without  betraying  the  secret  of  Talmudism,  wished  to  show  that  Jewish 
Philosophy  might  be  so  interpreted  as  to  conciliate  Christian  thought  in  favor  of  the  perse- 
cuted Jews.  He  showed  that  Judaism  was  not  Mohammedanism,  and  that  it  consisted  of  more 
than  dreams  and  rearrangements  of  kabbalistic  formulae,  charms  and  ciphers. 

At  such  signs  of  reform  Christendom  began  to  dream  of  a  general  conversion  of  christian  theology 
the  Jews,  and  made  ready  to  meet  them  half  way.    But  the  old  residue  in  Judaism  TainÄÄcpte"" 
refused  to  affiliate.     Semitism  does  not  give  up  itself;  receptive  as  it  is,  it  does  not  Th^ciTwis agahTtlts 
take  what  is  against  its  nature.    If  given  the  choice  it  always  takes  to  the  crescent  ''''*"^- 
rather  than  to  the  cross.  With  the  Church  it  was  otherwise;  unknowingly  she  adopted  what  Christendom 
some  of  the  Talmudistic  peculiarities  thus  palmed  off  upon  Cliristian  scholasticism,  Sjfw*"!""  '^^^"'"'^ 
even  in  the  conception  of  a  juridical,  forensic  justification.    And  more  than  that. 
We  found  sorcery,  conjury,  magic  and  necromancy  underneath  the  old  Akkadian  and 
then  Babylonian  culture.    It  forms  that  stratum  of  most  ancient  cujts,  as  found  in 
the  Shamanism  and  Fetishism  of  ügro- Altaic  and  Mongolian  nations.    Thanks  to 
the  rabbis,  these  elements  were  peddled  out  in  the  Occident  under  the  label  of  "black 
arts".    The  Aryans  were  not  entirely  disinclined  to  buy  the  secrets. 

Pico  of  Mirandula  and  Agrippa  of  Nettesheim  in  later  times  have  taken  the  invoice  of  jj^gic  art  Babylonian 
magic  formulas,  talismans,  and  amulettes,  and  of  their  uses,  cataloguing  them  verbally  and  in  faith,  catalogued  by 
a  bona  fide  manner— for  the  trade.    They  are  all  written  in  Hebrew  letters,  these  names  and  ?^j^  and  ^^^'^' 
prescriptions  by  which  spirits  can  be  pressed  into  service.    Sorcery  belonged  to  the  business  Agrippa  of 
of  the  rabbis.    As  "Lords  of  the  Name"  they  were  the  proper  persons  to  deal  with.  Nettesheim.    §26. 

The  Shemhamph oresh.  the  name  of  the ' 'Unspeakable' ' ,  is  a  chief  means  of  magic  in  itself.  Magic  art  practiced, 
It  is  able  to  accomplish  anything.    "Rabbi  Chanina  and  RabOschaja  used  to  study  every  Sab-  jewish*teickery!  ^^ 
bath  evening  in  the  book  of  Jezirah,  how  to  create  a  three  years  calf  in  a  minute  and  a  half, 
or  something  to  that  eflPect,  so  as  to  make  a  feast  of  it.     This  is  in  substance  what  the  tract  Jfa^^gfc^eTp^erinlrnt" 
Sanhedrin  tells  us.    Miracle  working  rabbis,  as  we  find  them  today  in  Roumania  and  Russia,  Chanina  and 
were  in  vogue  all  through  the  Middle- Ages.  It  was  not  only  superstition  and  envy  of  benight-  Oschaja. 

ed  Christians  that  raised  the  "furor  teutonicus"  and  caused  several  riots  in  which  Jews  were 
worsted.  They  were  not  persecuted  from  religious  hatred.  It  was  lynch-law,  not  to  be  pal- 
liated by  any  means,  but  it  was  provoked  by  the  exacting  practices  of  professional  tricksters.         ^    ^  ^       .^  ^^^ 

For  Jews  were  the  physicians,  astrologers,  sorcerers,  possessors  of  secret  Chaldean  arts,   Middle-Ages  in  which 
from  the  Volga  to  the  Ebro.     They  were  spies  and  governmental  emissaries  in  keeping  with  ''®^^*  ^^*'®  worsted. 
the  description  of  their  characteristics  previously  given. 

Before  closing  accounts,  however,  with  Talmudistic  Judaism  we  ought  to  keep  in  mind 
its  probabilism  for  further  reference,  and  by  way  of  transition  to  the  next  chapter  throw  a 
glance  upon  their  connection  with  the  Arabs  of  Ishmaelitic  and  Edomitic  extraction. 

It  cannot  be  denied,  that  these  people  were  supported  by  the  Jews  in  their  conquest  of  intimacy  between  Jews 
Palestine,  tho  that  Jewess,  who  is  said  to  have  been  with  the  false  prophet  when  he  died  just  ^^  Mohammedans. 
before  he  began  his  projected  conquest,  may  be  made  an  argument  to  prove  the  contrary.    A  Jews  supporting  the 
Jew  played  the  strong  citadel  of  Ca-sarea  into  the  hands  of  the  Arabs.     In  Asia  as  well  as  in  ^nqu'este/'^*'"  '"  *^^^ 
Mgyjit,  Islam  was  welcomed  by  the  sympathising  Jews.    Most  obvious  was  the  intimacy  be- 
tween the  Jews  and  the  Moors  in  Spain.  When  at  the  defeat  of  Toledo  the  Christian  Goths  had  öa«:Tz. 
taken  refuge  for  prayer  in  a  church,  a  Jew  opened  the  gate  of  the  city.     Graetz  has  demon-  Metotron's 
strated  how  a  pseudo-apocalypse  celebrated  the  victory  of  Islam.    Metatron  answered  Simeon  statement  to 

,  T       1      .        IL/-I      1  1,.,,  .    ■,  »-W.  ,.  1  11.  o  1..  Simeon  ben  Jochai  as 

benJoehai:      God  establishes  the  right  of  Ishmael  in  order  to  deliver  you  from  malicious  to  God's  favorites. 
Edom",  meaning  the  Christians. 

CH.  IV.    THE  CHURCH  AND  ISLAM. 


§  131.  Mohammedanism  did  not  originate  without  Jewish  intermediation,  and  it 
would  not  have  spread  so  rapidly  had  it  not  been  for  Jewish  instigations,  and  unmis- 
takable signs  of  their  sympathy.  A  Jewish  gentry  had  settled  among  the  Arabs  ever 
since  the  times  of  the  Maccabseans.  In  Yemen  they  held  the  controlling  power. 
Some  surmise  that  even  the  sanctuary  at  Mecca  had  been  founded  by  them.  However 
this  may  be,  the  country  itself  assisted  in  shaping  the  peculiar  traits  of  the  Southern 
Semites  still  more  peculiar.  Stony  Arabia  from  Cape  Ras  el  Hadd  to  Akaba,  and  from 
Aden  to  the  Persian  Gulf  is  as  favorable  for  raising  fanaticism  as  any  region  can  be. 


Jews  of  Arabia. 


Sanctuary  in  Mecca- 


248 


MOHAMMEDANISM  REESTABLISHING  ASIATIC  -  EUROPEAN  POLAR  TENSION.       IE.  E.  CH.  IV.  §  131. 


Self-sufficiency  of 
Islam. 


It  requires  no  religious 
conviction ;  only 
political  subjection  and 
external  contormance. 


Koran 

on  the  calling  of 

Muhamed. 

§  124, 127, 


Muhamed  caution»  not 
to  argue,  because  it 
would  have  been  fatal 
to  Allah's  dominion. 


Sum  and  substance  of 
the  world-theory  of 
the  Koran. 


Encouragement  of  the 
Arabian  warriors. 
Rainer  s  collection. 
Kababackk. 


Islam  will  settle  differences  by  a  reasonable  discussion  with  nobody. 

Its  rise  is  distinctly  marked  by  a  revival  of  oriental  self  abnegation  which  accepts 
matters  as  settled  by  fate  once  and  forever.  Wliat  the  Moslem  needs  to  know  of  things 
and  what  he  has  to  do  with  them,  Islam  reveals  in  detail;  but  on  the  whole  it  is  suf- 
ficient to  say  Allah  ilia  Allah.  And  Allah  is  great.  What  he  did  not  command  is 
not  worth  considering.  He  did  not  forbid  much  besides  wine  and  pictures.  The  Alex- 
andrian library  was  to  be  doomed  to  the  flames  because  the  books  agreeing  with  the 
Koran  were  superfluous.  Even  if  Omar  did  not  command  this  act,  the  legend 
denotes  the  character  of  Islam.  What  does  not  submit  to  it  must  perish.  Islam  never 
demanded  conviction,  it  simply  required  homage,  nothing  but  external  conformity. 
The  giaur  as  such  is  a  rebel,  hence  the  scimetar  for  the  infidel.  As  soon  as  Muhamed 
had  forced  Mecca  to  acknowledge  him,  he  sent  his  menacing  messages  to  the  courts 
of  Byzantium  and  Persia.  As  soon  as  the  manifesto  was  ignored,  those  ferocious 
horsemen  came  storming  along,  who  live  in  the  shadow  of  their  spears  and  cook 
their  rice  upon  the  firebrands  of  extirpated  cities.  This  was  perfectly  in  order,  from 
an  Arabian  point  of  view. 

The  heart  of  Muhamed  had  been  specially  predestined  and  prepared  for  such  exploits. 
He  himself  relates  how :  "Hereupon  Gabriel  commanded  Michael  to  fetch  a  bowl  of  water  from 
the  sacred  spring.  Then  he  opened  my  breast,  drew  out  my  heart,  and  poured  faith,  wisdom 
and  understanding  into  it,  with  the  water  of  the  spring."— Then  came  the  ride  to  Jerusalem. 
Borak,  the  miraculous  horse,  waits  for  him.  It  had  the  body  ofti  horse,  but  the  face  of  a 
man,  and  the  ears  of  an  elephant;  it  had  a  camels  neck,  a  mule's  tail,  and  the  hoofs  of  a  steer« 
Its  breast  shone  like  a  ruby.  "Ascend,  Muhamed !"  Gabriel  calls  out.  The  ride  begins.  "Three 
times  I  was  addressed  on  my  way, 'relates  the  "prophet", 'by  two  men  and  one  woman,  but  I 
gave  no  answer."  "Thou  hast  doneright,"  said  Gabriel.  Of  course  he  did.  Arguing  would  have 
been  disastrous  to  Allah's  campaign.  Had  Muhamed  answered  the  first,  the  world  would  have 
become  Jewish ;  if  the  second,  it  would  have  become  Christian.  Now  it  belongs  to  him.  Fi- 
nally they  arrive  at  the  heavenly  tent.  The  angels  sing :  Muhamed  is  the  prophet  of  God.  The 
way  leads  through  thousand  spheres  of  light;  he  sees  God !  At  a  distance  of  two  bow-shots  he 
worships.  God  assures  him  that  he  once  made  the  world  for  Muhamed's  sake.  Hence  the 
world  belongs  to  Islam.  It  is  to  be  conquered  and  subjected  to  infallible  Islam.  This  is  the 
sum  and  substance  of  the  Koran. 

At  the  head  of  his  veterans  of  ten  years  warfare,  all  in  coats  of  mail  made  of  fine  iron 
chains,  head  covered  with  the  conical  steel  helmet,  armed  with  the  round  shield  and  the  lance 
Caliph  Omar  gallops  up  his  deploy  on  African  soil.  The  collection  of  papyros  manuscripts  of 
Arch-Duke  Rainer  reveals  the  accoutrement  of  the  Arabs,  as  Karabacekhas  shown  from  these 
documents.  Now  as  far  out  as  the  Pamir  is  his,  now  .3Egypt,  also.  Whilst  the  conquest  of 
northern  Africa  gradually  proceeds,  the  crescent  is  being  established  further  north  towards 
the  Kurdish  Alps. 

We  advanced  fast  in  order  to  bring  the  situation  under  full  view,  from  which  the 
history  of  twelve  centuries  is  to  be  understood.  For  the  old  polarity  is  thus  restored 
in  multiplied  power  between  the  Occident  on  one  side,  and  the  Orient,  including  the 
Equatorial-African  deserts,  on  the  other. 

Imagine  a  crescent  shaped  hemisphere,  open  side  upward.  The  eastern  horn  may 
be  Brussa,  seat  of  the  Anatolian  Othmans  at  the  time  we  now  speak  of,  overtopped  by 
the  snowcapped  Mt.  Olympus.  As  the  western  terminal  we  may  take  Granada,  the 
stronghold  of  the  Andalusian  caliphs,  below  the  white  summits  of  the  Sierra  Nevada. 
Between  these  two  points  the  wide,  broadening  arc  of  the  circle  of  the  Ishmaelite  cul- 
ture is  drawn  far  to  the  south.  Later  on  this  culture  extended  on  the  eastern  side 
from  Damascus  to  Samarkand,  and  down  to  the  lowlands  of  India,  and  south  from 
Mecca  through  the  Soudan  to  Timbuctoo  and  the  Senegal.  This  is  the  position  which 
Islam  held  opposite  the  occidental  Indo-Germanic  world. 

What  does  this  position  signfy? 

Concerning  progress  the  Arabs  seemed  fit  for  nothing  but  to  annihilate  every  cul- 
ture save  their  own.  But  it  happened  here  as  in  many  other  Instances,  that  the  con- 
querors were  conquered  by  the  cultures  they  could  not  destroy.  Then  the  pens,  if  we 
may  so  call  the  stiles  of  the  translators,  proved  mightier  than  the  scimetars. 

From  the  ruins  the  "classics"  were  recalled  to  life  and  made  to  speak  once  more  to  the 
oriental  nations.  In  general,  however,  no  more  of  literary  merit  can  be  ascribed  to  the 
Saracens,  than  to  have  transmitted  certain  impulses,  and  by  their  translations  of  the  classics 
furnished  a  few  crutches  to  the  Occidentals.  For,  this  is  evident:  as  soon  as  the  latter  learned 
to  read  the  originals  again,  they  threw  away  the  crutches. 


II  E.  CH.  IV.  §  131.  MOORISH  ART  AND  SCIENCE.  249 

The  Semites  here  serve  as  intermediators,  there  in  the  desintegration  of  cultures.  The  Crescent. 
What  the  Arabs  did  in  this  direction  ought  not  to  be  undervalued.    The  Mohamine-  significance  of  the 
dan  High-schools  did  very  effective  work  in  transmitting  literature  by  their  transla-  SthTciL^crflT^thT 
tions.    In  order  to  study  medicine  or  algebra,  to  understand  the  meaning  of  the  tÄddiP-Ag^^*'" 
zenith  or  nadir,  to  learn  astronomy  and  geography,  the  wealthy  youths  of  Europe  had   ^  ^^^'  ^*^'  ^*^'  ^^'  ^^• 
to  take  lessons  from  the  Arabs.    They  not  only  imported  articles  of  trade  from  the  far 
East,  but  brought  with  them  also  grammar  and  lexicography,  just  as  the  Elamite- 
Chaldeans  had  once  been  the  factors  of  education  in  Assyria. 

The  caliphs  of  the  West  at  the  zenith  of  their  Spanish  rule  called  learned  teachers  from  Transmittinff 
the  borders  of  India  to  Zaragossa.    Moorish  castles  contained  large  libraries.     In  the  time  of  science  to  Spain, 
her  prime  the  university  of  Cordova  had  four  thousand  students  matriculated,  who  chief  of  §  150. 

all  studied  the  natural  philosophy  of  Aristotle  and  Pliny  in  translations.  Personal  originality  universities  at  Zaragossa 
ar  inventive  ingenuity  the  translators  never  developed.    Nevertheless,  what  Samarkand,  the  Cordova, 

„,^,         ,,„..^,  .,  .,-r.  *'»*i  Samarkand. 

"cupola  of  the  Islam"  was  for  Asia,  Cordova  was  in  those  times  for  Europe.  Translations  of  Aristotla 

The  Arabs  were  the  founders  of  the  medical  art,  A.  v.  Humboldt  thought,  who  accredited  *°*^  ^''"^ 
them  with  originality  at  least  with  reference  to  this  branch  of  human  knowledge.     We  take  Arab  culture  not  self- 
exceptions,  notwithstanding.    They  distilled  alcohol  to  circumvent  prohibition,  and  studied  P^o'^^ctive. 
parts  of  medicine  to  meet  certain  requirements  of  polygamy,  or  to  cure  horses,— that  is  all.  Al-cohoi.    Ai-gebra. 
As  regards  the  algebra  of  the  Arabs,  we  simply  adopt  Humboldt's  own  conclusion :  "It  has  de-  ^'  ^'  HnjiBouw. 
veloped  from  the  confluence  of  two  streams  which  for  many  ages  had  their  separate  courses 
independent  of  each  other:  one  springing  from  India,  the  other  taking  its  rise  in  Greece." 

Such  is  the  case,  in  fact,  with  all  the  Arabian  sciences,  even  with  regard  to  the  laboratory 
experiments  based  upon  Aristotle's  analytic  inductions,  and  begun  by  Abn  Jussuf  in  Basora, 
the  contemporary  of  Scotus  Erigena. 

Least  of  all  is  Islam  original  as  a  religion,    A  piece  of  plagiarism  throughout,  wam^^  a  religion  is» 
the  Koran  is  the  type  of  its  whole  culture:— a  pell-mell  from  beginning  to  end.   Such 
syncretism  merely  copies  or  collects  and  selects  what  is  suitable,  its  pretensions  as  of^ifsVuiture.^ 
to  its  revelations  notwithstanding.    Not  a  germ  of  spontaneous  generation  can  be    ^^  g,  ^25^126^132' 
shown  as  inherent  in  it.    Intermeddling,  however,  and  overreaching  as  Semitism  I3i]m,m,n5]m. 
ever  was,  Islam  carried  a  great  deal  of  oriental  thought  even  into  the  Church.    We  Avicebrona.  §150. 
pointed  out  Maimonides,  and  now  refer  to  Avicebrona  also. 

It  can  not  be  proven  that  Gibbon  misrepresented  where  he,  on  good  authority  quoted,  church  allowed  Moslem 
"that  the  Latin  Church  has  not  disdained  to  borrow  from  the  Koran  (3,  29.)  and  the  Sunnite  d'lgmÄ''^&WN°™''° 
traditions  the  immaculate  conception  of  the  virgin  mother  of  Christ",  a  doctrine  which,  ac- 
cording to  Era  Paolo  in  "Istoria  de  Concilia  Trento"  was  condemned  by  St.  Bernard  as  a  pre-  Idea  of  ''the 

,  ,.  Immaculate ' 

sumptuous  novelty.  conception. 

It  was  from  the  valley  of  the  Ganges  by  way  of  Delhi,  that  through  the  intermediation  of  derived  from  islam. 
the  Arabs  we  received  Mogul-Moorish  architecture.    That  new  cultural  element  took  its  rise     '§^55^°i22,  m,  i^s^m, 
among  the  western  Ishmaelites  and  through  them  was  brought  to  Spain.    From  thence  it  was  1*6, 149, 150. 

soon  thereafter  communicated  even  to  America,  where  we  meet  a  predilection  for  that  Moor-  fpchVteiture^copied 

ish  style  in  the  synagogue  and  the  Masonic  "temple."  from  India.  §  58. 

This  leads  us  to  a  brief  review  of  Arabian,  or  rather  Moorish  art  in  general.  Its 
renown  was  so  great,  that  the  Byzantine  emperors  hurried  to  get  patterns  from  l^l^ch'SSltJ  " 
Bagdad  for  their  summer-residences,  altho  that  "dream  in  marble",  the  Taj  Mahal  in  ^*'"" 
Agra  may,  according  to  Garbe,  have  been  designed  by  a  French  architect.  The  art  of 
Islam,  with  all  its  praise,  was  limited  to  mere  constructive  peculiarities  for  the  pur- 
pose of  keeping  the  female  departments  secluded,  cool,  and  cozy.  Sculpture  and 
paintings  are  wanting. 

In  the  first  place  the  influence  of  this  architecture  reached  not  much  further  than  Sicily 
and  Spain.     Afterwards  it  was  transplanted  to  Mexico  and  Havana,  There     Moorish  style  is 
recognised  in  the  scarcity  of  windows  toward  the  street,  and  from  whence  that  taste  stole 
itself  to  New-Orleans  and  even  to  Baltimore.    Where,  however,  Moorish  architecture  met  nowhere^Spete^^th 
with  the  Aryan-Gothic, taste  could  not  be  corrupted  by  the  Moorish  plagiarism  of  Delhi's  style  the  Gothic. 
of  building. 

The  "Fairy-Tales"  which  poetical  minds  found  reflected  in  the  lines  of  the  arabesque  are 
in  fact  reducible  to  the  Hindoos.    Images  having  been  forbidden  by  the  Koran,  these  pleasing  images  forbidden; 
medleys  of  decorative  profusion  were  adopted  from  the  vegetative  form  of  Hindoo  existence. 
This  happy  application  of  patterns  with  natural  and  geometrical  lines  in  order  to  break  the  purposes  after  Indian 
monotony  of  large  spaces  on  walls  and  ceilings,  and  to  give  corridors  and  verandas  and  kiosks  Patterns. 
the  character  of  snugness  and  ease,  is  the  only  merit  of  Arabian  imitative  art.     But  even  tho 
the  imitation  be  not  overdone,  as  we  observe  now  and  then  in  our  surroundings,  the  style 
itself  must  be  termed  phantastic,  like  an  unsuggestive  dream. 

This  fairy-tale  style  dates  back  to  Ninive,   and  without  much  modification  extends  to  The  single  attempt  in 
Granada.    Everywhere,  in  the  alternation  of  branches  and  foliage,  of  stucco  and  mosaic  pat-  the  Lion's  court  of  the 
terns,  in  the  stalactite  compositions  of  pillared  arches  there  rules  the  geometrical  principle  origln.^"^*  **'  Phemcian 
which  at  last  becomes  as  tiresome  as  our  wall-papers  copied  after  them.     Hence  this  art  with 
all  its  soothing  effects  becomes  emblematic  of  the  insipid  and  jejune  life  in  a  seraglio. 

The  beastlike  figures  under  the  lion-fountain  of  the  Alhambra  show  a  connection  with 
monuments  from  Phenician  tombs— certainly  none  with  the  lion  of  the  occidental  romance. 


250 


LIFE  UNDEB  DEISTICAL  DETERMINISM— FATE. 


n.  E.  Ch.  IV.  §  132 


Symbolises  that  Islam 
culture  could  never 
come  to  an  understand- 
ing with  the  Occident. 


Polygamy  the  curse  of 
the  Tnrano-Semitic 
culture  of  Islam,  and 
its  national  life. 


Pedigree  of  SIRE 
cannot  displace 
MATRI-monial  purity  in 
ennobling  the  race. 


No  household  in  our 
sense,  no  fatherland, 
no  sociability. 


Harem  life  makes 
reform  simply 
impossible. 


Products  of 
Koran  and 
Talmnd : 

beggary,  filth, 

and  periodical 
pestilence. 


The  Semitic  culture  of 
Islam  a  parasite  upon 
decayed  ethnical  matter. 

Arabic 
onslaughts 
repulsed  by  the 
two  Karls  as 
before  by  the  two 
Catos. 

§  60,  66,  71,  88, 
137,  142. 

Comparison 
between  the 
principles  of 
Christian  and 
Semitic  culture. 

Selfconsecration  in  the 
interests  of  universal 
welfare. 


Proper  way  to 
fight 

the  Bad  is  to  extend 
good  influence. 


The  oriental  trend  of  mind,  as  reflected  within  the  imaginary  form  of  con- 
sciousness predominant  in  Islam,  could  in  no  way,  not  even  in  its  imitations,  come  to 
an  understanding  with  the  Occident. 

§  132.  In  the  light  of  history  the  states  founded  upon  Islam  are  upshots  of  hot 
impulsiveness.  After  a  short  period  of  bloom  they  relapse  into  languishing  torpidness 
which  is  always  a  symptom  of  hopeless  decadence.  The  cause  of  such  consumption 
of  all  higher  vitality  lies  in  the  prophet's  portentous  gift  of  polygamy. 

Since  we  have  given  all  the  credit  due  to  the  promising  features  of  Arabian  cul- 
ture, which  suddenly  subdued  Bagdad  and  there  came  to  full  bloom  with  glowing 
colors  as  also  in  Cordova,  be  it  in  mathematics,  poetry  or  philosophy,  we  are  con- 
strained to  lay  open  that  pestilent  cancer  which  always  consumes  the  vital  sap  of  any 
nation  contaminated  by  it.  The  real  curse  of  Islam  is  the  total  defilement  of  domestic 
life.  Carnal  indulgence  and  cruelty,  that  is,  sensuality  intensely  heated  from  both 
ends  of  a  more  than  brutal  depravity,  have  parched  the  life  of  those  nations  which 
fell  victim  to  the  crescent  at  a  time  when  already  they  were  in  a  sinking  condition. 

No  Mohammedan  throne  or  state  under  the  fates  of  Islam  was  ever  firmly  joined,  because 
that  corner-stone  of  the  state  was  missing  which  in  Rome  at  one  time  was,  and  is  in  Berlin  at 
present,  called  the  domestic  hearth-stone.  Nothing  less  than  that  sacred  tie  can  bind  the 
state ;  no  power  and  no  law  can  substitute  the  purity  of  matrimonial  love.  Mere  pedigree  of 
sire  may  improve  the  blood  of  Arabian  stock,  but  it  cannot  take  the  place  of  normal  matri- 
monial relationship.  Destitute  of  family  attachment  and  home  life  the  state  has  no  patriotism 
at  disposal.  The  Mohammedan  does  not  keep  house,  nor  can  he  carry  on  husbandry  in  our 
sense  of  the  term.  Knowing  the  gentler  sex  only  in  its  most  inhumane  subjection,  he  has  no 
idea  of  the  nobility  of  womanhood,  and  is  consequently  barred  from  cultivating  sociability. 

The  degrading  and  ignominous  institution  of  the  harem  is  a  nuisance  which  renders 
education,  culture  of  humane  sentiment,  and  even  political  reform  simply  impossible  from 
Bokhara  to  Bornu,  where  today  sultan  Omar  is  enthroned  upon  an  old  family  chair  imported 
frona  a  Westphalian  farmer. 

The  Koran  produces  a  state  of  affairs  in  which  law  does  not  warrant  protection ;  where 
gossip,  and  intrigue,  bribery  and  fraud  prevail  in  the  management  of  state  and  village;  where 
an  accumulation  of  beggary  and  filth  upon  the  streets  constitute  all  that  is  prolific  exactly  as 
is  the  case  with  the  adherents  of  the  Talmud,wherever  they,  huddled  close  together,  are  left  to 
themselves.  It  is  this  condition  of  things  which  must  be  designated  as  the  cause  for  the 
periodical  spreading  of  the  plague  from  Mecca  to  all  parts  of  the  world. 

The  Mohammedan  will  sit,  eat,  sleep,  dwell,  and  dress  today  on  the  Bosporus  and  in 
Algiers  exactly  as  he  did  in  the  Byzantine  period.  Tradition  and  law  retard  any  advance  to- 
ward humanitarianism,  notwithstanding  the  admonitions  of  the  European  powers. 

If  one  is  tired  of  Europe  and  has  a  fancy  for  certain  profligacies  he  may  throw  deceptive 
covers  over  the  stagnant  world  under  the  rule  of  Islam,  and  make  allowances  from  sheer 
sympathy.  He  may  be  an  enthusiastic  admirer  of  the  hospitality  of  a  Bedouin  sheik,  or  of 
the  unlocked  booths  of  the  bazaars.  But  he  must  admit  the  truth,  that  through  its  fatalism 
Islam  has  stiffened  the  tough  varnish  of  Semitic  culture  into  a  hard  coat  of  lacquer,  by  which 
any  sign  of  growth  into  a  semblance  of  civilised  life  is  suffocated. 

Islam  is  the  parasite  upon  decayed  ethnic  matter.  It  either  mummifies  or  mur- 
ders the  nations  over  which  it  holds  sway. 

Two  futile  attempts  have  been  made  by  peoples  of  the  Arab  regions  to  get  Europe 
under  their  control.  Each  time  their  impetuous  onslaughts  were  twice  repulsed, first 
by  the  persistency  of  the  two  Catos  and  again  by  the  firm  resistance  of  the  two  Karls. 

But  whether  the  wily  spirit  of  the  twins,  Koran  and  Talmud,  has  been  defeated 
with  the  same  success  is  quite  another  question,  remaining  to  be  solved,  when  the 
Asiatics  come  again  to  contest  the  superiority  and  leadership  of  the  Indo=Grermans, 
and  to  set  up  blind  fate  against  forethought  as  to  the  destiny  of  the  human  race. 
Christian  consciousness  conceives  the  pursuit  of  selfculture  as  an  ideal  duty,  in  the 
fulfillment  of  which  alone  personal  life  can  prosper,  through  which  the  faculties  of 
the  mind  are  made  to  cooperate  in  so  harmonising  each  other  as  the  composition  of 
human  nature  requires,  and  as  the  complex  relations  to  environments  permit.  Hence 
the  assiduity  of  idealists  to  improve  the  ethical  and  the  sesthetical,  the  scientific  and 
social  forms  of  life,  and  hence  the  interestedness  in  universal  welfare.  The  en- 
deavors are  concentrated  not  only  upon  one's  own  home  or  nation,  but  tend  to  ameli- 
orate the  condition  of  mankind  throughout  the  world,  in  ever  rejuvenating  and  inde- 
fatigable aspiration,  with  a  cheerful  and  buoyant  enthusiasm  to  the  extent  of  self- 
sacrifice.  Christianity  is  conscious  of  the  fact  that  the  highest  gifts  of  this  life  can 
be  preserved  only  by  advancing  evangelisation;  and  that  resistance  against  the  Bad  is 


II  E.  CH.  IV.  §  133.       SIMULTANEOUS  RISE  OF  MOHAMMEDANISM  AND  POPERY.  251 

most  properly  and  effectively  accomplished  by  defending  the  good  and  by  spreading 
its  beneficial  influences.  A  standstill  in  this  missionary  work  means  retrogression. 

Of  a  morality  in  this  sense  the  Semite  has  utterly  disqualified  himself  to  form  a  semsh  and  pharis«icai 
conception,  be  he  a  Jew,  or  as  a  Mussulman.    Aside  from  an  ardent  devotion  and  '"*"^*''*^  "*  ^^'""• 
ceremonious  servility  where  the  occasion  requires  it,  he  only  knows  of  ritualistic  per- 
formances with  the  object  of  gaining  some  sort  of  a  paradise. 

An  order  of  life  under  determinism  is  the  only  rational  mode  the  Semite  can  con-  Order  of  life 
ceive  suitable  to  his  nature.    He  wants  to  have  the  method  and  number  of  such  determinism, 
observances  as  definitely  prescribed  as  the  taxes  upon  his  brain  and  muscles  are  ex- 
acted.   This  all  being  objectively  fixed  he  can  subjectively  engage  in  hypocritical 
contrivances  to  get  around  the  laws  or  at  least  even  with  them,  just  so  as  to  main- 
tain a  little  balance  due  himself,  at  any  rate.    Tho  he  may  groan  under  the  burden 
imposed  upon  him,  yet  he  cannot  gather  sufficient  courage  to  emancipate  himself,  unsympathetic 
lest  he  might  have  to  suffer  and  another  would,  perhaps,  enjoy  the  benefit.    Moreover  >'®s®*'ve. 
it  is  pious  to  let  fate  have  its  course.    Not  to  interfere  with  the  decrees  of  fate,  that 
is,  sullenly  to  bear  the  unavoidable  is  the  fixed  form  of  a  piety  cold  and  hard,  which 
spares  one  the  annoying  duty  of  sympathising  with  the  hardships  of  another. 

Apparently  very  scrupulous,  with  studied  ostentation,  the  external  laws  are  sat- 
isfied by  hook  or  crook  in  order  to  outwit  the  degree  of  fate  and  to  gain  the  clear  prof- 
its of  eternal  bliss  none  the  less.  Meanwhile  the  mind  and  character  not  only  re- 
main unchanged  but  are  thus  trained  to  an  increase  of  cunning  and  dissemblance,  conscience  by  proxi 
Whatever  is  allowed  to  the  most  extreme  limit  of  allowances  is  determined  not  by  the  *^®  imam.  §  120. 
Semite's  conscience,  but  by  the  written  conscience  contained  in  some  precedent  de- 
cision on  record,  which  may  be  similar  to  a  present  case  given,  and  which  therefore 
may  be  deemed  fit  to  be  advocated  or  legalised. 

Here,  says  the  Imam,  it  stands  written.  All  that  is  necessary  is  to  settle  with  and  idem-  Probablism 
nify  that  paper  conscience  embodied  in  the  Imam.  And  from  him  an  official  indulgence  can  §  73, 129, 163, 164, 
be  procured  for  almost  any  case  since  a  man  versed  in  the  sacred  books  can  certainly  appeal 
to  some  Imam's  past  decision  in  any  emergency.  Once  more  we  stand  face  to  face  with  the 
probabilism  of  ancient  thought  which  attempted  to  reduce  fate  to  natural  necessity,  and  to 
bring  it  under  the  power  of  comprehension  in  the  system  of  the  zodiac,  in  the  method  of 
auspices.  The  Imam  is  nothing  but  that  very  fatalism  personified,  wherewith  arbitrariness 
may  play  hide  and  seek. 

§  133.    At  the  close  of  our  review  of  this  period  the  two  representative  person-  Retrospect  and 
ages  of  the  time  appear  before  us,  viz:  the  Bishop  of  Rome  and  the  Caliph  of  Mecca.  Prospect. 

Here  Gregory,  the  Great,  the  "Vicar  of  God";  there  Muhamed,  the  prophet  of 
Allah:  both  representing  types  of  two  hierarchies,  rising  at  the  remarkable  time  of  A. 
D.  600,  corresponding  with  a  former  cycle  of  nearly  the  same  date.    This  contrast 
affords  one  of  the  instances  where  extremes  meet,  from  which  the  glare  as  from  a  Pop«  of  Rome 
search-light  is  thrown  upon  many,  if  not  all  the  great  conflicts  of  the  Middle- Ages.    ^  *  a.  S.  eoof  ^^' 
The  one  representing  the  Orient,  sends  heavy  armored  riders  around  the  great  crescent  cycHcaf  period!*"* 
line  from  Bagdad  to  Zaragossa,  to  Tours  in  France,  to  the  parts  where  the  Huns  sw^TT^"^'*** 
before  were  routed.    The  other,  representing  the  Occident,  props  himself  upon  the       ise.'ui/Ä.lSliS.' 
sons  of  the  dear  Brunhilde,  and  upon  noble  Theudolinde,  and  uponPhocas,  the  vicious 
usurper;  at  the  same  time  he  makes  England  the  fulcrum  for  his  cross-shaped  lever. 
This  lever  he  sets  in  beneath  the  Germans,  who  cover  the  first  expenses  with  the  first 
"Peter's  pence",  and  with  the  lives  of  three  thousand  monks  at  Bangor  who  refuse  to 
become  Romanised. 

Both  are  highpriests,  claiming,  under  mandates  of  the  same  nature,  (tho  essen-  Mandates  of  Gregory  and 
tially  different)  equal  validity  for  their  antagonistic  decisions  (altho  of  equal  invalid-  diff^er^nf  '''^''*'*"y 
ness)  which  dispose  of  the  fates  of  the  nations.    "VMiether  they  acted  upon  their  com-  ä'od1s''o°  «Sfexe?u«on 
missions  and  built  another  story  upon  the  structure  of  history,  under  forms  and  with  "^  ^"*"^  '^'^uiä','  i64. 
means  equally  different,  subsequent  events  will  reveal. 

We  have  arrived  at  the  rounding  up  of  the  great  circle  of  cultures  in  the  Roman 
basin,  which  began  600—500  B.  C,  and  closes  with  500—600  A.  D. 

The  transition  into  that  circle  occurred  during  the  time  of  that  significant 
**reformatory"  movement  alluded  to,  which  oscillated  through  the  nations  from  India 
to  Italy.    And  now  we  add  that  it  is  tliis  very  vibration  which  returns  with  the  pre- 
cision almost  of  a  tide,  in  the  same  circuit  encircling  and  closing  this  whole  aeon. 
19 


252 


KETROSPECT  AND  PROSPECT. 


II.  F.  Syllabus. 


Summing  up  the 
phenomena  of  cultural 
imports.  §  134. 


Undulations 
simultaneously 
oscillating  through  the 
nations,  concerning 

collections  of 

laws. 

§  62,  75, 124,  127, 

133,  136, 141,  144, 

145,  172, 

The  real  Middle-Age 
divided  by  the  year  O. 


Center  of 
adoration  and 
elevation  and 
of  cohesion 
§  42,  47,  61,  74,  75, 
79,  114, 133, 171. 


ground  and  crown  of 
new  issue. 


The  cross 
and 
the  Bible. 

Conjunction. 

Cresent 

(Kaaba-Koran"  and 
Kabbala-Talmud  trying 
to  eclipse  the 

Cross 

and  "the"  Book. 

Poles  of  further  tensions 
definitely  located. 


At  about  A.  D.  600,  the  organisation  of  the  Chnrch  culminates  in  the  person  of  Gregory ; 
and  in  the  transformation  of  the  Pantheon  and  Parthenon  into  Christian  Churches.  At  the 
same  time  the  reaction  of  Semitism  comes  to  a  point  or  two  in  the  Talmud-Koran.  For  the 
Talmud  is  just  at  this  time  completed  and  in  full  bloom  at  Sora  and  Pumbeditha. 

Emperor  Justinian  has  compiled  and  abridged  the  law,  having  become  aware  of  the  leg- 
islative judiciousness  of  the  "Barbarians"  who  put  the  "Salic  law"  into  Latin;  of  Alaric's 
"Breviarium" ;  of  Euric's  "Leges  Barbarum"  ;  and  of  Gundobald's  good  Burgundian  laws  in 
Geneva. 

In  the  far  Northwest  the  bards  sing  of  Kaedmon. 

From  Babylon  to  Bangor  the  same  oscillating  waves  of  mental  excitement. 

This  cyclical  wave  designates  transition  from  a  world  of  subsiding  culture  to  the  thresh- 
old of  a  world  just  emerging  from  blood. 

We  look  back  upon  the  history  of  the  Mediterranean  basin  as  upon  a  Middle- Age 
preceding  Mediaeval  times;  as  a  unit  divided  in  the  mean  by  the  secreted  moment  of 
the  nativity  between  I.  B.  C.  and  I.  A.  D. 

The  main  feature  on  the  surface  of  this  period  is  Rome's  position  in  the  midst  of 
the  nations  as  the  reservoir  of  all  the  results  contributed  by  them  towards  the  civili- 
sation of  the  world.  We  witnessed  how  the  essence  of  Semitism  was  emptied  into 
the  mixture,  isolating  or  resolving  and  separating,  as  well  as  affiliating  and  uniting 
the  leading  minds  of  the  world.  We  witnessed  how,  borne  hither  by  the  Semites,  the 
great  sign  was  raised  in  the  midst  of  this  nation,  designating  in  the  three  leading 
languages  of  antiquity,  the  center  of  adoration  and  elevation  of  cultus  and  culture, 
of  history  and  humanity,  of  the  world  and  — its  time.  We  finally  saw,  how  the  life, 
with  its  world-embracing  and  salutary  principles  radiated  from  this  Mediator,  in 
whose  retinue  at  the  hostelry  a  certain  Augustus  served ;  from  the  Mediator  who,  by 
virtue  of  the  palpable  blessings  flowing  from  Him,  is  henceforth  acknowledged  as 
the  ground  and  the  crown  of  the  new  issue. 

The  external  symbol  of  the  mediation  as  historically  manifested  is  the  cross  upon 
the  Pantheon  and  St.  Sophia;  internally  the  word,  as  the  instrument  of  the  Holy 
Spirit,  is  agreed  upon,  as  a  matter  of  course,  to  be  "the"  book  not  in  need  of  human 
sanction.  In  the  meantime  the  crescent  rises  from  the  eastern  horizon.  Kaaba  and 
Koran  in  conjunction  with  Kabbala  and  Talmud,  engage  to  eclipse  our  emblem  which 
resembles  a  star  deprived  of  its  rays,— and  to  give  the  lie  to  the  Book.  The  polar 
stress  is  now  shifted  to  the  forms  of  life  under  these  signs;  history  is  agitated,  and 
the  nations  are  made  to  tremble  in  suspense  because  of  their  ignorance  of  what  all 
these  struggles  mean.  Are  the  people  of  modern  times  nearer  understanding  them 
sufficiently  to  know  that  they  are  stiU  encountered  by  the  last  twins  born  of  Baby- 
lon? 


Syllabos! 


F.    SIXTH  DIVISION.— THE  SECOND  CIRCLE  OF  NATIONS. 
INDO-GERMANS  IN  THE  MEDIAEVAL  TIMES. 


SYLLABUS. 


Re-entering  our  second  of  the  ethnical  circles  we  anticipate  —seeing  how  the  new 
historical  coefficient,  imparted  to  humanity  in  the  midst  of  the  nations  at  the  middle 
of  the  times,  is  received  and  appropriated  by  the  Europeans  —the  disposition  of  the 
ethnic  groupings  and  of  what  metal  the  Germanic  people  are  made.  In  the  second 
chapter  we  will  observe  their  labor  under  a  sense  of  duty  and  equity,  and  elicit  the 
importance  of  the  German  form  of  Government  for  the  Occident.  The  third  will  ac- 
quaint us  with  the  bearings  of  the  great  conflicts  between  Church  and  State.  These 
contests  for  the  supremacy  we  will  learn  to  recognise  as  simply  the  form  under 
which  the  struggle  between  Aryanism  and  Semitism  is  perpetuated.  On  the  one 
side,  the  Aryans  develop  their  fitness  for  comprehending  and  defending  the  Christian 
thought,  becoming  thereby  the  representatives  of  tlie  Humanitarian  ideas.  On  the 
other  hand,  the  Semitic  element  concentrates  itself  into  the  same  exclusive  partic- 
ularism and  domineering  attitude,  and  reveals  the  same  world-consciousness  and 
distorted  Messianic  desires,  as  has  become  obvious  in  the  Sanhedrin— now  blended 
with  the  Roman  ideas  of  rule  and  unity. 


II.  F.  Ch.  I.  §  134.  PRIMEVAL  FEATURES  OF  GERMAN  CHARACTER.  253 

CH.  I.    GERMAN  CHARACTERISTICS:    KARL  THE  GREAT. 

§  134.    The  Western  Aryans  under  different  names,  but  with  traits  of  character  Aryan  Circle, 
distinctly  similar,  now  present  a  picture  of  a  new  culture  totally  different  from  all  struggle«  for  supremacy 
the  pieceding  cultures.  J^^p^**^" ^'"p^^'''" """^ 

We  first  study  the  physiognomy  of  the  Indo-Germans,  if  so  we  may  call  their  Romeunder  bansofthe 

,      ,        .       1    p  /.        .      ,       -rx   •      XI  •       j.^^  n       X  X,        Semitic  ideal  of  a  world- 

ethno-pftychological  frame  of  mind.  It  is  the  more  necessary,  as  m  these  features  the  theocracy. 
Aryan  qualification  for  the  leadership  in  the  work  of  civilising  the  world  is  at  once 
recognisable. 

When  Cornelius  Tacitus  wanted  to  warn  the  Komans  of  his  days,  he  cried  out:    "Not  the  Tacitus  on  liberty  of  the 
Samnite,  not  the  Punian,  nor  the  Spanish  and  Gaulish  tribes,  not  even  the  Parthiaus  have  so  them  the'pee'rs  of"^ 
often  administered  warning-s  of  danger  to  us;  for  a  greater  power  than  even  that  of  the  Par-  Bonjaps.  and  a  menace 

TT-  •ti'i  o    1       ^  to  their  power. 

thian  Kings  is  the  liberty  of  the  Germans.  '  Giesbbrecht. 

With  this  quotation  Giesebrecht  leads  over  from  Boman  to  German  History.    We  may  ^  ^^^'  ^^^'  ^*''  '^^ 

do  the  same. 

In  order  that  we  may  not  be  hampered  in  concentrating  our  attention  upc>n  the  physiog_  Romans  taught  for  the 
Tiomy  of  the  Germans  by  reviewing  the  externals  of  the  situation,  we  refer  to  the  remarks  on  first  time  to  fulfill 
their  migration  to  Europe.  ovenan  s. 

Of  the  condition  of  the  peoples  North  of  the  Alps  before  the  time  of  Marius,  his- 
torical data  are  almost  entirely  missing,  so  that  only  by  way  of  conjecture  it  becomes 
probable,  that  it  was  the  power  of  Celtic  swarms  accompanied  by  Cimmerians  and 
Teutons,  whom  Brennus  brought  upon  the  Romans  to  teach  them  for  the  first  time  to 
keep  their  agreements. 

The  region  of  France  between  the  Seine  and  Garonne  seems  to  have  been  the  first  burning^ th^l'tempi^  of 
European  home  of  the  Celt- Iberians,  from  whence  they  settled  the  northern  part  of  Spain,   Ephesus;  in  the  pillage 
Britany  and  the  Low  Countries  where  they  got  somewhat  mixed  with  the  Germans.    The  °     ^'^    ^^' 
Romans  soon  sized  these  "brothers"  with  their  broad  shoulders  and  high  shields  as  very 
strong  men.  They  seem  to  have  assisted  in  reducing  Syracuse  and  in  the  pillage  of  Carthage; 
to  have  roamed  wrestling  about  the  plaines  of  Tr^yes ;  from  their  midst  the  torch  was  thrown  in  Roman  service  on  the 
into  the  temple  of  Diana  at  Ephesus.    Then  Frankish  horsemen  in  Roman  service  were  en-     "^ 
camped  on  the  banks  of  the  Euphrates,  and  Saxons  were  lying  in  the  Arabian  sands.    When 
the  Goths,  following  the  Swedes  or  Swiss,  left  the  Scandinavian  peninsula,  and  landed  in  the 
delta  of  the  Vistula  and  afterwards  roved  through  the  wide  steppes  of  Sarmatia  advancing 
toward  the  Danube,  Dniepr,  and  Theiss,  where  their  tall  forms  alarmed  the  Byzantine  senti- 
nels—a new  element  entered  into  History. 

This  is  not  to  be  understood  as  if  the  Northerners  had  not  come  in  contact  with 
other  peoples  heretofore.    Proofs  of  this  fact  are  lacking  only  because  the  back-lying 
countries  from  which  they  emerged,  were  perhaps  not  known  to,  at  least  not  men-  Sothsl'anTA^syr''^' 
tioned  by,  others.    It  is  an  acknowledged  fact,  however,  that  a  thousand  years  pre-  ^''^y^""- 
viously  Assyria  had  carried  on  a  lively  traffic  with  the  Dakians,  with  the  Getes,  and 
with  the  Scythians  still  further  North. 

Objects  of  art  and  utensils  of  Semitic  genre,  weapons  and  tools  were  then  brought  up 
from  Babylon  to  the  Baltic  upon  routes  still  traceable.      In  return  northern  goods  were 
taken  back  from  the  mouth  of  the  Volga  to  the  royal  palaces  of  Assyria  and  Babylon.      If  we 
take  it  for  granted  that  these  objects  discovered  in  Siebenbuergen  (as  represented  by  Thorma  Hgcoveries'^^*'* 
Broos  in  the  "Archives"  of  Johannes  Ranke)   came  in  large  quantities  from  the  East  to  the  Thorma  Beooc. 

Dakians  and  Gates  along  the  Danube,  as  is  affirmed  by  other  things  found  and  by  many  cir- 
cumstances :— then  these  urns,  amulets,  images  and  decorative  articles,  or  useful  tools  were 
imported  from  Akkad- Assyrian  firms. 

At  about  530  A.  D.,  as  we  adopt  Ranke's  statement,  the  Germans  are  settled,  and  Germans  settle  and 
govern  themselves  and  the  preceding  occupants  of  the  countries  between  Hungary  fhrt^rnSrhltwlen" 
and  Helgoland,  from  the  Tweed  to  the  Atlas.    Their  reverses  in  Africa  were  compen-  *^'^  '^'■'''^  ^""^  ^^V^^: 
sated  by  the  prosperity  of  the  Lombards  in  the  valley  of  the  Po  river. 

In  Rome  the  spoils  of  the  whole  world  had  been  hoarded  up.    It  is  questionable  whether 
the  wealth  of  Europe  today  exceeds  the  value  of  the  booty  delivered  at  the  capitol  in  the 
period  from  the  triumphal  entry  of  Scipio  to  that  of  Pompey.     Even  after  the  pillage  by  The  end  of  Rome,  and 
Alaric  shiploads  of  treasures  were  still  left  for  Geiseric,  and  for  being  swallowed  up  by  the  entrance  of  the  Germans. 
blue  Tyrrhenian  waters.    Rome's  monopoly  had  burst,theproud  city  broke  beyond  recovery. 
Every  crevice  in  the  huge  structure  of  state  was  wide  enough  for  the  stout  men  from  the 
Dniepr  and  the  Weser  to  squeeze  themselves  through,   and  to  take  possession  of  one  room 
after  another  in  the  crumbling  palace.     It  is  astonishing  how  quickly  they  accustom  them- 
selves to  the  novel  scenes  wherever  throngs  of  them  make  themselves  at  home.     They  are  dis- 
creet and  conservative  enough  to  let  things  continue  which  do  not  interfere  with  the  im-  The  new  principle 
mediate  creation  of  a  culture  of  their  own.  Turning  up  the  subsoil,  they  prepare  new  ground,  uptuMfed^soil!** 
consisting  of  the  weather-beaten  and  decomposing  rubbish  left  from  the  old  fabric— and  of 
the  fertilising  new  deposits  of  virgin  soil,  brought  down  from  the  forests  with  the  avalanches 
in  the  last  of  the  great  migrations. 


254  ,  .  GEBMAN  SENTIMENTALITY.  11.  F.  CH.  I.  §  135. 

Semites:  trade-calculus.  Ill  their  soü  they  caiefully  plant  the  principles,  and  build  the  foundations  of 
S^m1^s!Spun\''^^^^^^^  theti  soclal  life,  viz:  The  feudal  rights;  their  preference  for  rural  life;  their  aristo- 
Germans: sentiment^ ^^  cratlc  sentlmeuts  of  houor,  fidelity,  and  liberty;  their  esteem  of  womanhood.    Let  us 

analyse  these  fine  and  far-reaching  predispositions,  and  if  possible,  trace  them  bac*k 

to  their  fatherland.  • 

§  135.    The  first  scene  of  action  of  each,  the  Phenicians,  the  Hellenes  and  the 

Romans,  had  been  limited.    The  talent  of  the  Semites  was  their  calculation, 
the  fundamental  The  task  of  the  Aryaus  in  Rome  was  the  establishment  of  law  and  the  State,  as 

jirerequisitefor  any  .xiii-ii''«  •• 

thorouEh  education  of     it  had  beeu  the  cultivation  of  art  and  science  in  Greece.    Each  had  to  improve  its 
^"§'35  48 117^118° m  P^^^'  ^^^  *^^  Intellect,  the  other  the  will;  the  one  liberty,  the  other  discipline.    Now 
■  the  Germans  come  in  with  their  sentiment,  the  cultivation  of  which  had  been  neg- 
lected hitherto  by  almost  all  the  other  nations.    With  this,  tlieir  natural  contribution 
to  history,  they  introduced  the  fundamental  principle  for  any  thorough  education  of 
the  mind.    This  peculiarity  of  the  German  mind  is  very  old;  it  is  traceable  to  the 
Germanic  culture  Iranian  hlghlauds.  Its  development  went  on  slowly,  but  surely.  It  is  designed  to  con- 

"Tg'a'!  128^138,  U2. 145.  tinue  its  steady  growth  in  all  combinations,  and  under  all  circumstances.  The  season 
of  bloom  arrives  a  little  later  in  the  North,  and  with  the  Germanic  peoples  it  shall 
last  a  little  longer.  For,  pervaded  and  permeated  with  Christianity,  it  shall  spend  its 
fragrance  to  not  less  prolific  generations  of  the  future,  and  to  the  world. 

The  continuance  of  stimulative  attempts,  the  ever  recurring  dreams  of  men 
about  the  coming  and  going  of  things  and  events,  testify  to  the  inner  promptings  of 
human  nature  to  master  the  environments  and  circumstances  by  thought,  to  take 
possession  of  the  world  through  the  mind.  A  person  can  find  his  position  only  in  a 
well  comprehended  whole,  in  which  he  may  assert  himself  and  persist  as  a  person- 
ality.   Especially  the  Aryan  form  of  consciousness  reveals  this  tendency. 

For  disregarding  the  discussion  of  a  comparison  of  the  Aryan  theories  of  cosmogony  at 
Traits  common  to  this  moment  we  deem  ourselves  excused.     The  Hindoo  mind  is  filled  with  them;  it  wrought 

Gennan^'.^'^^'  ^  Variety  of  world-emanations  and  world-destructions.     The  changes  are  conceived  as  a  per- 

Traditions  of  the  petual  play  of  rise  and  decay.    The  Chaldean,  but  not  the  Aryan,  way  of  explanation  was,  to 

andonts°giorious^°'  fix  the  changes  to  the  stars.  The  Persian  and  the  German  Iranians  harbor  a  hope,  that  in 
transmutation.  the  three  latter  of  the  twelve  millenniums  Ahriman,  the  bad  one,  will  be  the  victor.     For, 

notwithstanding  his  victory,  he  will  be  overthrown  in  his  last  endeavor  to  destroy  the  world; 

whilst  this  destructive  intent  will  be  the  very  occasion  for  its  glorious  renovation.    Alfadar 

brings  it  all  about,  he  prevails  over  all  rebellions,  and  of  the  happiness  thus  ensuing  there  is 

no  end. 

The  philosophy  of  the  Occident  never  slighted  this  belief  in  a  final  glorification, 
mythology.  Heracleltos  touched  upon  this  thought,  which  was  brought  to  notice  still  more  by  the 

Stoa.    But  in  the  German  and  Northern  "Saga"  it  comes  out  most  distinct  and  pro- 
nounced. 

If  the  German  mind  was  bent  upon  a  bright  future  and  on  victory,  it  was  not  at 
variance  with  the  Aryan  method  of  constructing  original  tradition  into  myths  full  of 
deep  meaning.  The  German  simply  keeps  his  future  more  vividly  before  his  mind. 
He  remembers  more  clearly  that  a  deep  and  broad  degradation  cannot  but  cause  the 
annihilation  of  the  Old  World. 

He  meditates  on  the  shgrtening  of  the  world's  day;  upon  the  fact  that  the  dusk 

of  the  night  sets  in;  that  with  the  lengthening  shadows  the  powers  of  darkness  arise. 

Even  the  old  gods,  being  implicated  in  the  fight  of  men  against  the  weird  fiends, 

Äreeks  deem  the  crisis    ^^^  pluuged  luto  the  unlversal  conflagration.    The  Greeks  and  Romans  conceived  the 

being  past.       t.tanbs.  gj.jgjg  jj^  ^j^g  g^j^g  light,  except  that  in  their  opinion  it  had  been  overcome  already  in 

the  contest  with  the  Titanic  nations. 

The  Germans  preserve  a  deeper  insight  into  the  problem  of  the  Bad,  and  they 
remain  in  the  fight. 

This  is  the  profound  and  far-reaching  significance  of  the  world's  drama  in  Teu- 
at^w™?  with^he^  *ö^  mythology,  and  of  the  conviction  of  it  in  the  German  character.  This  concept 
bad,  is,  at  the  same  time,  a  premonitory  apprehension  of  the  entire  course  of  the  world's 

history.    It  encourages  the  Germans  to  face  the  combat  and  to  resist  the  Bad;  it 

makes  them  Interested  in  the  studies  of  ethics  and  history. 

The  gods  are  imagined  as  having  lived  in  a  state  of  blissful  innocence.  As  such  beings 
the  Asen  are  powerful  joists  in  the  structure  of  the  universe.  They  are  enthroned  on  high  as 
the  twelve  judges  in  Asgard.  There  they  perambulate  upon  green  meadows.  Their  twelve 
chairs  stand  in  the  golden  castle  around  the  high  seat  of  Odiu.  Such  is  the  "golden  age"  of 
the  Germans. 

\ 


The  world-embracing 


II  F.  CH.  I   §  134.  TEUTONIC  MYTHOLOGY.— EDDA.  255 

But  with  the  arrival  of  the  fiendish  daughters  of  sin, stinginess,  envy  and  thirst  of  gold, that 
gladsome  innocence  is  lost  to  the  gods.    The  evil  women  create  the  dwarfish  gnomes  to  bring  Mytholygy  of  the 
the  glittering  gold  from  the  deep,  black  holes  of  the  earth.    And  with  the  gold  comes  murder.  ■*''""*• 
The  imiiassionate  desires,  the  Wanen  (the  vain  ones,  the  crazed)  fall  from  the  gods.    Their 
ramparts  are  torn  down  and  scattered.    What  shall,  then,  become  of  a  world  where  the  gods 
themselves  fall  in  temptation?  The  answer  is  given  by  Igdrasil,  the  world  ash-tree.  Its  roots 
drink  from  the  deep  grounds  of  that  which  is  finite,  altho  the  deep  springs  are  the  drippings   Goblins   dig  gold. 
which  come  down  from  the  spheres  of  the  infinite. 

Up  to  Walhalla  this  ash-tree  reaches;  but  "Transiency"  is  gnawing  at  its  verdure.  Eaten 
away  by  vermin  from  above  and  from  below,  the  world-tree  finally  becomes  rotten,  and  pines  Worid-ash-tree, 
away.  To  fill  the  measure  of  sorrow,  Iduna  is  ravished  and  carried  off  by  the  "Winter-storm ;"  waihaiia. 
the  withered  leaves  all  drop ;  every  sign  betokens  that  the  world  must  succumb.    Baldur,  the 
luminous  one,  too,  is  overthrown,  pierced  by  the  mistletoe.    This  was,  the  Edda  thinks,  the  E°d  of  the  old  world. 
saddest  calamity  which  could  have  happened  to  the  gods  and  to  men.    That  was  perpetrated  iduna. 
by  the  gloomy,  hateful  Loki.    Baldur  can,  of  course,  not  be  gotten  back  from  hell;  but  how  g  ., 
should  he  be  revenged  on  Loki  ?    How  is  this  arch-fiend  to  be  cast  into  fetters  and  in  the  bans 
of  seclusion?    With  the  intestines  of  his  offspring  it  may  be  done.  Mistie-toe. 

Loki  must  lie  in  bondage  till  the  time  of  the  gods  dawns,  when  the  moral  bearers  of  the  Loki, 
world  vanish  in  the  dusk,  when  all  bonds  of  order  and  discipline  are  loosened,  when  the  age 
of  right  and  reason  changes  into  an  age  of  the  sword,  when  the  very  sea  roars  up  in  rebellion.  erung  . 

Thus  arrives  the  day  of  final  decisions,  of  the  world-battle.    Odin  at  the  head  of  the  Asen  leads  Asen— Odin. 
on  to  war,  wearing  his  golden  helmet.    But  he  falls  in  the  combat  with  Wulf,  who  is,  in  turn,  wuif— widdar 
felled  by  Widdar.    The  latter  strikes  down  all  the  infamous  wretches,  and  out  of  the  world's 
conflagration  rises  the  purified  new  world  in  glory. 

The  pious  and  free  men  solemnise  the  victory.    The  renewed  gods  dwell  upon  Idafield, 
under  the  pleasure  of  the  One  who  embraces  the  world,  of  whom  an  old  hymn  sings:    "Once 

ANOTHER  One  WIIiL  COME,  MORE  POWERFUL  THAN  EVEN  HE,  WHOSE  NAME,  HOWEVER,  I  CANNOT  AS 

YET  VENTURE  TO  TELL."      (Quoted  from  Sepp).  one  to  come. 

This  is  the  melancholy  complaint  of  the  nations,  the  marvelous  tone  of  which 
dies  away  in  the  far  north  as  a  vision  arching  up  above  the  blood-soaked  earth  like  a  coXgratiornses  the 
wondrous  rainbow,  refracting  the  colors  of  truce  which  are  hung  out  from  Heaven  gUfry.®^  world  in 
after  the  catastrophe  has  been  passed  through,  one  end  resting  upon  the  Himalayas» 
the  other  upon  Iceland. 

The  horrible  and  unnatural  massacres  of  the  body-guards  on  the  graves  of 
princes  by  which  servants  were  to  be  sent  after  them  to  the  other  world,  remind  us  of 
the  usage  practiced  from  time  immemorial  by  all  the  Aryans  and  Semites.  The  kill- 
ing of  the  prisoners  of  war,  of  the  domestic  servants,  of  the  retinue  of  attendants  we 
find  among  the  Germans,  the  Celts,  the  Scythians,  and  the  Mongolians.  It  has  been  8^^^^^^^  sacrificed 
ascertained  to  have  existed  in  the  substrata  of  Greek  and  Koman  culture.    Theac-  among  Aryans 

Leo  Diaconvs. 

count  given  by  Leo  Diaconus  about  the  sacrificial  obsequies  at  a  Russian  funeral  in 
the  year  921  A.  D.  is  suggestive  as  to  the  ancient  customs  of  the  northern  people  in 
general.  It  was  an  act  of  humanism  that  the  killing  of  captives  was  abandoned  and 
they  were  rather  sold  as  slaves. 

At  Upsala  in  Denmark  stood  the  temple  described  by  Adam  of  Bremen.    This  edifice  ihor's  temple  at  Upsala. 
was  gilded  all  over,  and  its  glittering  contours  could  be  seen  from  quite  distant  plains.    It  ^  ^^^-      A"*«  <>*'  bremen, 
contained  the  images  of  three  gods:  Thor,  the  most  powerful,  with  his  hammer  thrones  in  the 
middle,  for  he  reigns  in  the  heavens  creates  the  thunder-weather,  and  the  fruitful  seasons. 
Beside  him  sits  Wodan  carrying  the  arms ;  he  instigates  war  and  guides  the  battle.  Fricco,  the  Fricco. 

Fro,  the  mild  god,  is  the  third,  vouchsafing  to  men  peace  and  joy.  Close  to  the  temple  stands 
a  miraculous  tree  with  many  branches  and  ever  green.  From  its  roots  a  spring  bubbles  up  in 
which  they  are  accustomed  to  offer  human  sacrifices.  If  no  trace  reappears  of  those  thrown 
in  alive,  it  is  considered  the  good  sign  of  the  gods  accepting  the  offering  and  granting  what 
has  been  prayed  for.    After  this  nine  different  animals  are  offered  in  their  blood.    The  car-  §41,54,110. 

casses  are  hung  up  in  the  sacred  park  of  the  temple.  Horses,  dogs,  men,  are  thus  sacrificed, 
under  the  singing  of  elegies.  One  of  the  messengers  of  the  Christian  God  has  told  us,  that  he 
saw  there  and  counted  on  one  of  these  occasions  seventy  corpses  of  men  hanging  upon  the 
trees.  ' 

Such  then,  up  to  comparatively  recent  times  were  the  usages  of  the  Germans. 
They  were  no  better  than  all  the  other  heathenish  peoples.  The  best  which  can  be 
placed  to  their  credit  is  their  primitive  force  of  body  and  mind,  their  sense  of  honor,  and 
their  decisiveness  of  character  as  revealed  in  all  their  usages,  thoughts  and  songs. 

In  the  scenes  around  Arthur's  table  and  at  the  royal  board  where  Adelgais,  the  Longo- 
"bard,  breaks  horseshoes,  bones  of  Buffaloes,  of  stags  and  bears  as  if  they  were  hemp-stems,  wo  _.  .      , 

'     .  ,  .      .  ,  ,  ,  1  .  , .  -r^  , .     .  Traces  of  snake-worship 

see  their  unsophisticated  honesty,  bravery  and  sentimentality.       With  reference  to  religious  in  the  legends. 
■consciousness  there  glimmers  from  a  world  of  fairy-tales,  myths,  and  legends  (upon  which  we        ^  *^'  *^'  *^'  ^'^'i^[ 
must  dwell  somewhat  more  fully  later  on)  even  the  old  snake- worship,   precisely  as  it  shines 
through  the  old  Indian  hymns.  The  queen  of  snakes  with  her  dainty,  precious  crownlet,  and  the 
domestic  pet  snakes  doubtless  show  a  common  source  of  religious  remembrance  in  all  nations. 


256  GERMAN  PREDISPOSITION    FOR  THE  GOSPEL.  II.  F.  Ch.  I.  §  136. 

Whether  it  can  be  said  on  such  grounds  that  the  Germans  had  been  specially 

Germln°mind  for  *      gifted  OF  "predestiued"  for  Christianity,  as  often  has  been  alleged,  or  whether  the 

idea  should  not  be  refuted  as  an  exaggeration,  we  need  not  decide.     But  this  is  true» 

that  as  to  truthfulness  *and  chasten  ess  they  excelled  others.     And  this  also  is  obvious, 

that  the  prophecy  of  the  concluding  scene  of  the  world's  drama  (as  the  Northerners 

conceived  it  according  to  their  myths),  meets  the  cordiality  of  the  new  doctrine  almost 

o??he"worfcrs^"^  half  way  with  German  sincerity.    The  Germanic  mind  brings  along  a  manly  trust 

thauferVnan         Combined  with  a  childlike  and  expectant  hope.    It  is,  furthermore,  happily  qualified 

sincerity  meets      for  the  reception  of  Christianity  by  its  ardent  yearning  for  the  advent  of  a  king  of 

cifrfSiaiüty  half  all  nations  whose  authority  extends  through  Heaven  and  over  the  whole  world:  "of 

way.  rulers  the  greatest  and  richest,  akin  to  all  the  kinsfolks  in  common  kinship."       And 

^peir-Te  g*iS  «dS?  this  new  and  noble  prince  is  to  lift  up  a  new  world  out  of  the  world's  conflagration. 

"The  king  of  the  To  uame  Him  they  do  not  venture  I 

common"  people.  jj^^  ^^^^  üstcued  to  aud  cmbraced  the  glad  tidings,  when  communicated  by  the 

S?en?*'°"'  °  *  *        soldiers  who  with  the  legions  of  Treves  had  returned  from  the  spot  where  it  had  hap- 
'    '    '  pened;  and  when  these  fascinating  stories— exactly  answering  their  innermost  but  in- 
distinct  expectations— were   in  an  enthusing  manner  and  more  clearly  set  forth 
Sorrnfssiona^rfes'       agalu  lu  the  specches  of  the  Culdeans  (or  Caledonians),  and  the  Anglo-Saxon  kinsmen, 

§  138, 139, 156, 158, 169.  becouies  evldeut  from  what  followed. 
German  paganism  never         §  136.    Pagan  forms  of  cultus  aud  pagau  usages  were  retained  a  long  time,  and 
u,So^ugh°Roma^n  ^*^*  because  of  having  been  made  subservient  in  part  to  symbolise  Christian  truths,  were 
rdtoltion  and       ^ever  thoroughly  abolished. 

symbolism.  Around  the  churches,  former  temples  of  gods,  the  heathen  Christians  would  hold  their 

common  meals,  camping  under  the  trees  or  in  linen  tents.  Upon  the  roasted  steer  they  would 
feast  as  in  the  sacrificial  meals  of  yore,  excepting  that  in  the  places  of  former  gods  they  would 
call  upon  the  saints  to  go  with  them.  When  they  rode  to  the  massmeetings,  religious  or  polit- 
ical, they  would  take  along  upon  their  floats,  the  broad  wagons  drawn  by  oxen,  in  place  of  the 
images  of  their  former  gods  those  of  the  Merovingian  Kings.      And  then  one  would  have 

German*converts  Ti3jf  heard  across  the  meadows  and  along  the  peaceful  valleys  the  sounds  of  the  litanies  coming 
out  of  yonder  cloisters  half  hid  by  the  dear  old  "hallowed"  oaks  and  beaches  and  surrounded 
by  fruit  orchards.  And  among  the  crowd  could  have  been  heard  at  random  the  oaths  of  fidel- 
ity by  St.  Peter  and  all  the  other  saints. 

The  suffering  Redeemer  of  the  world,  however,  was  accepted  rather  reluctantly. 

Heiiand-the   -      What  was  their  Concept  of  the  "Healing  one"?    In  their  "Heliand,"  that  epic  which 

held  fn  common,    ^elougs  to  uo  particular  tribe,  the  cognition  held  in  common  by  all  the  Germans  is 

§  135, 139.  succinctly  mirrored.    Outside  of  this  they  could  agree  in  scarcely  anything.    The 

"German  nation"  always  had  to  be  taken  as  a  mere  abstract  generalisation.    The 

mark  of  its  nationality  is  the  predominance  of  envy  which  will  allow  preponderance 

to  no  tribe.    That  nationality  consists    of  as  many  dialects  and  clan-interests  as 

..  ,-  X ,      would  have  been  more  than  necessary  to  make  the  concentration  of  a  fixed  power  ut- 

Analogies  of  doubtful  "^ 

nature  yet  instrumental  terly  Imposslble.    Fcderacles,  however,  are  held  together  so  much  the  firmer  by 

m  developing  a  wealth  ./  x  770 

of  culture.  the  stroug  tles  of  fidelity,  and  the  idea  of  the  fatherland  makes  them  terrible  to 

any  enemy.  The  German  mind  is  prepossessed  by  a  tendency  to  bias,  partiality  and 
queerness;  singularities  are  cultivated  to  a  detrimental  degree.  Inclinations  of  this 
sort  are  of  doubtful  value;  and  yet  these  defects  alone  account  for  the  fact  that  no 
other  nation  has  so  many  centers  of  culture,  and  enjoys  such  a  diversity  of  excellent 
traits;  and  that  no  race  equals  the  Germans  in  profundity  of  knowledge  and  scholar- 
ship.   These  national  characteristics  ever  threaten  political  disrupture,  but  they  are 

andVf  the^other-*"      also  favorable  to  a  level  brain  and  to  the  "balance  of  power;"  they  cause  the  cultiva- 

tonguecutivated.         ^.^^  ^^  ^^^^  f or  the  fatherlaud  and  for  the  mother-tongue. 

The  development  of  a  vigorous  acorn  which  after  being  detached  from  its  tree,  sprouts 
and  grows  into  an  oak  of  its  own,  thus  multiplying  and  differentiating  the  oak's  organism  into 
a  profusion  of  foliage,  acorns  and  so  forth  into  an  entire  forest,  may  illustrate  the  mode  in 
which  the  Germanic  race  became  detached  and  developed  into  a  variety  of  prolific  nations. 
In  this  manner  they  formed  a  belt  of  minor  political  bodies  from  Cape  North  to  Carthage. 
This  belt  everywhere  stood  the  tests  of  strength  as  to  its  national  connections  as  well  as 
mutual  protection.  . 

In  a  special  manner  did  the  Germans  constituting  this  belt  preserve  and  nourish 
Belt  of  colonies  a  scuso  of  liberty  and  independence.    The  belt  of  colonies  with  clear-cut  German 

preserved  individualism  characteF  formed  a  wall  against  new  agglutinations  of  old  ideas  into  a  world- 

as  against  concentration  "  °°  •         -r»  • 

of  power.  monarchy  with  its  complement  of  deadening  despotism,  after  which  Romanism  ever 

hankers, in  determined  opposition  to  Germanism. 


I 


n  F.  CH.  I.  §  136.  BEGINNINGS  OP  GERMAN  SOCIOLOGTr  257 

It  is  worth  while  to  examine  more  closely  what  it  was  that  kept  the  fraarments  scene  in  «aiy  at  the 

,,,  ,  1         J.         -,•  period  of  transition: 

together,  until  they  were  able  to  come  to  an  understanding  as  to  the  terms  upon  illustrating  the 
which  all  could  stand  shoulder  to  shoulder.  GermalffuUure 

Let  a  scene  be  presented  to  our  minds  of  those  times  when  under  the  last  convulsions  of  ^**^  ^SfiS^  rlq"?^?* 
the  dying-  culture  and  among  its  ruins  a  new  culture  like  a  fresh  crop  covered  the  deep-  ' 

ploughed  soil. 

Do  you  see  the  old  temple  this  side  the  cluster  of  dwelling  houses,  which  once  used  to  be 
a  summer-resort  of  city  folks  who  called  themselves  optimates?    Its  pillars  still  support  a 
gorgeous  cornice  which  holds  back  the  dilapidated  roof.    The  marble  cubit  at  the  base  of  the 
pillar  is  shoved  aside ;  the  heavy  slab  at  the  base  of  the  other  is  cracked,  both  by  the  roots  of  a   'agriculture  rejected 
tree,  the  solitary  remnant  of  the  sacred  grove.  Thistles  and  wild  roses  ramify  their  roots  into  '      "^ 

the  cracks,  helping  to  drive  the  foundations  asunder.  To  the  clefts  in  the  wall  and  the  cracks 
below  a  German  veteran  soldier  has  fastened  a  few  beams  for  the  support  of  the  roof  of  his 
cottage  thus  being  nestled  under  the  classic  portico.  He  has  now  become  a  settled  farmer. 
His  goats  have  climbed  up  to  yonder  mosaic  floor  of  an  old  mansion,  whose  tottering  portals 
still  lean  in  the  same  position  as  they  had  once  been  forced  open.  The  German  has  trans- 
formed the  crumbling  splendor  of  the  atrium  into  his  hay-mow. 

Notice  yonder  aquseduct  of  a  thousand  years  standing,  under  the  ruined  and  partly  over- 
hanging arches  of  which  the  beams  of  a  temporary  chapel  are  secured  into  the  cleaving  joints 
of  the  substructure.  And  in  this  chapel  a  home-carved  picture  of  a  saint  is  set  up.  Upon  a 
spirited  charger,  a  high  functionary  of  the  Church,  in  a  white  dalmatica  with  purple  seam, 
rides  through  the  wild  field  of  mossy  ruins,  followed  by  a  train  of  deacons,  greeted  with  rever- 
ential bows  by  the  blond  peasants  as  well  as  by  the  black  haired  Jew  and  the  dark  complex- 
ioned  fish-monger  from  Yenice. 

The  settler's  boys,  lounging  about  the  causeway  which  leads  to  town,  look  as  tho  they 
felt  quite  at  home  and  would  become  soldiers  first  in  order  to  see  and  to  fight  the  world,  and 
then  become  freeholders  of  the  land  of  their  father  and  of  more,  too.  The  Jew  beside  his 
curbstone-stand  covered  with  cashmere  shawls  and  silken  textile  goods,  with  weapons  from 
Damask  and  jewels  from  Golconda  and  with  coins  to  loan,  leisurely  instructs  his  boy  how  to 
become  the  future  bondholder,  since  none  but  they  are  privileged  to  take  interest  on 
moneys  lent. 

Over  the  youthful  activity  in  the  fields  and  upon  the  markets, at  the  beginning  of  a  civii  government 
new  order  of  things,  presides  as  yet,  for  instance  in  Soissons  or  in  Lorch,  the  old  passing  into  the 

^  »      .        ,       .      .^       ,.  ^      ^    1     Tj.        ,  T  .  ^.,,  .     ,,  hands  of  the 

Roman  prefect,  who  in  the  distant,  half  submerged  provinces  still  represents  the  rap-  clergy, 
idly  changing  government  at  the  capitol.    But  in  the  great  cities  some  Germans  Petty  states  forming 
from  the  provinces  are  already  foremost  in  attempting  to  form  a  new  commonwealth,  their  own"'**"^  ^^'^^ ''' 
Imperial  legislative  and  executive  officers  form  the  shell  around  the  newly  arrived  ^  ^^^'  ^^^'  '*'' 

masses  of  robust  subjects. 

Where  the  hollow  shell  of  imperial  government  gave  way,  as      was  the  case  in  Britany, 
Batavia,  and  Gaul,  where  people  had  to  protect  and  learn  to  govern  themselves,  there  they 
were  guyed  by  the  network  of  hierarchal  government,  knit  together  after  the  pattern  of  the 
by-gone  civil  authorities.    So  do  the  roots  of  the  mountain  fir  hold  together  their  part  of  the  Roman  imperialism 
slope,  after  the  rocks  below  have  become  burst  and  plunged  down,  the  ground  once  supported  vanishes  from  the 
by  them  following.    At  last  the  shadow  of  imperialism  entirely  vanishes  from  the  Occident.     ''"  ^'^  ' 
Loose,  single  parts  of  official  Rome  here  and  there  keep  up  some  semblance  of  management 
until  all  personal  authority  becomes  defunct,  and  only  the  regulative  forms  are  left  in  the 
hands  of  a  few  patricians  and  the  clergy.    But  the  new  inhabitants  have  become  acquainted 
already  with,  and  have  accustomed  themselves  to,  these  forms  of  law  and  order  upheld  by  ec- 
clesiastical sanction  and  enforced  by  judicious  leaders,  in  concert  with  bishops  and  abbots. 
The  laws  are    collected  and  administered  everywhere,*^  so  as  to  judge  each  according  to  the 
acknowledged  rights  of  his  own  country. 

Theodoric,  the  great  Ostragoth,  may  serve  to  illustrate  how  the  Germans  planted  iheodoricthe  great 
their  own  civilisation  in  "adopted  fatherlands."    He  is  a  prince  of  eminent  wisdom  ostragoth. 
and  virtue,  but  not  at  all  so  exceptional  a  ruler  as  to  be  too  good  for  a  general 
example. 

Filled  with  the  veneration  in  which  a  youth  of  good  breeding  will  look  up  to  wise  teach- 
ers of  wide  experience  and  high  up  in  years,  so  Theodoric  looked  upon  the  college  of  senators. 
Nothing  is  more  plain  than  his  sincere  regard  for  Christianity,  and  his  prudent  conservatism  His  exemplary  reign, 
with  respect  to  the  customary  civil  institutions.  As  soon  as  he  took  the  reigns  of  government 
he  vowed  to  maintain  justice  above  any  private  interest.  This  he  conceived  as  the  only  duty 
and  single  prerogative  of  the  imperial  oflBce ;  and  he  kept  his  vow  to  the  perfect  satisfaction  of 
the  different  nationalities.  Writing  and  brain  work  was  left  to  those  conversant  with  it.  The 
sword  and  the  plow  were  wielded  by  his  own  countrymen  to  whom  this  was  no  innovation.  By 
his  honesty  of  purpose  to  attend  to  the  public  welfare  and  by  his  assiduousness  he  won  uni- 
versal respect ;  in  this  consisted  the  secret  of  his  success  as  a  ruler.  Only  his  tolerance  against 
the  catholics  was  abused  by  them.  His  efforts  to  protect  persecuted  Christians  of  his  own, 
the  Arian,  persuasion  were  construed  into  a  justification  of  intrigues  against  the  rule  of 
a  foreign  heretic  of  whose  influence  the  domineering  hierarchy  became  jealous,  so  that  after 
his  death  from  remorse  his  memory  was  made  infamous. 


258  KARL'S  CORONATION  AND   MONARCHICAL  POLITY.  II F.  Ch.  I.  §  137. 

Ulfilas  translates  Next  to  Theodoric  is  Ulfilas,  his  elder  contemporary  and  the  first  translator  of  the 

Gothic*^^  ^"*^  *^^  Bible  into  the  Germanic  idiom,  the  best  type  of  the  German  mind  in  the  early  times 

of  European  reconstruction.      Botli  show  noble  traits  in  their  lives  of  which  impul- 

wveness  and  hatred  of  duplicity  ought  rot  to  be  considered  as  destructive  to  their 

reputation. 

§  137.    The  youthful  nations  were  impressed  with  reverence  for  the  unfortunate. 

History  educates  nations  «^ ,  .       /       „    x,  ^  ^  •  ,  ^ ,   •  ^.  ^  .       .       ,,  , 

toward unity.^^  ^^^  ^^^  totteriug  majcsty  of  the  old  empire;  and  this  sentiment  was  not  at  all  unfavorable  to 

'  isei  I'l-  their  training  for  citizenship.    They  enwrapped  themselves  with  the  loose  hanging 

cloak  to  which  may  be  compared  the  mighty  name  of  imperial  Rome,  whose  splendor 

had  reached  into  the  dreams  of  their  childhood. 

Karl's  coronation,  desire         Wheu  Karl  the  Great  was  crowned  emperor  in  form  and  by  right,  the  longstand- 

authorHyunde^r^aT*"'^  ing  deslrc  of  the  youug  nations  was  gratified.    The  attraction  which  a  large  unit  ex- 

ideai  representative.       ^^^^  ^^^^  sluglo  parts,  had  drawu  them  across  the  Alps  and  educated  them  to  the 

thought  of  forming  a  unitary  social  organism.     The  involuntary  trend  of  public 

opinion  now  saw  its  ideal  realised  in  the  new  German  emperor. 

When  Earl  took  the  crown  from  the  ecclesiastical  dignitary,  he  esteemed  himself 
Karl's  cardinal      _-y^e  beg  to  keep  this  in  mind— successor  of  Constantine  and  Theodosius. 
Constantine's  "He  is" — as  Duemmler  correctly  observes— "both  the  most  advanced  man  and  in- 

^"§'i^,^i3^',  133, 137,  fluential  restorer  of  the  Latin  sciences  for  the  benefit  of  the  Middle  Ages,  and  at  the 
'  142,' 145, 178.  game  time  the  creator  of  the  first  German  literature." 

Patronising  Latin  The  palatinate  of  Aachen  resembles  a  refractor  focusing  the  old  time  and  the  new. 

literature!  Dükmkleb.  Along"  with  Byzantine  embassadors  the  white  Tunics  of  the  Moors,  and  the  turbans  of  the 
Saracens  from  Cordova  glittering  with  precious  stones,  and  the  long  linen  gown  of  Saxon 
nobility  appear  before  Karl  in  his  firm,  carved  arm-chair.  The  purple  toga  of  the  Longo- 
bard  sets  off  the  contrast  to   the  uncombed  Avar.    Then,  again,  Anglo-Saxon  monks,  Irish 

^I't^  *ate  YtAachen  priests  in  long  white  cowls,  and  princes  of  the  Church,  like  Hildebold  of  Cologne,  receive  a 
§  1*2.  hearing.  In  Karl's  state-hall,  during  his  short  stay  at  home,  we  observe  teachers,  students,  and 
members  of  the  chapel  choir ;  pupils  from  the  ranks  of  the  poor,  attending  the  new  high 
school  of  the  court;  and  men  recognised  as  luminaries  of  their  time  by  all  the  world,  such  as 
Alcuin  Bishop  of  Tours,  Theodulf  from  Orleans,  Einhard,  the  emperor's  son-in-law,  and  Agil- 
bert,  all  in  long  cassocks  trimmed  with  fur.  The  minutest  details  of  everyday  life  are  deemed 
significant  enough  to  receiveidue  attention,  not  always  to  the  detriment  of  more  weighty  af- 
fairs of  state. 

Fondness  for  the  To  Byzautlum  Karl  looked,  not  only  for  acknowledgment  of  his  right  to  the 

nimbus  of  Byzantium.^  Romau  iusigula,  but  also  for  knowledge  and  for— courtly  etiquette. 

There  was  the  monopoly  of  the  fur-trade  which  imported  the  largest  part  from  the 
forests  of  Karl's  domains.  There  the  Venetians  exchanged  occidental  goods  for  oriental  arti- 
cles of  luxury,  which  they  sold  at  the  mass  in  Pavia  to  Franconian  nobles.    All  this  was  ob- 

Intercourse  with  the         served  at  the  palatinates  in  Aachen  and  Ingelheim. 

western  empire.  This  Byzanz,  however,  appeared  to  Karl  as  more  than  an  emporium  of  trade.    It  was,  as 

we  have  seen,  the  museum  of  the  classics.  In  the  square  stood  the  Pythian  Apollo,  thB  gigan- 
tic figure  of  Juno,  brought  from  Croesus'  temple  at  Samos.  Here  stood  Heracles,  chiseled 
by  Lysipp  for  the  Tarentines;  there  the  metal  cast  of  the  snakes  which  once  supported  the 
Delphic  tripod.    Pillars  of  sea-green  serpentine  from  the  temple  of  Diana  in  Ephesus  served 

Constantinople       now  to  carry  the  cupola  of  St.  Sophia ;  and  most  renowned  of  all— the  pillars  from  the  Solo- 

the  bridge  over      monic  temple.    All  this  aided  in  magnify^ing  the  eastern  emperor  in  the  eyes  of  Karl,  who  pos- 

oStalism  sessed  nothing  of  the  kind. 

correcti've?c'i^i"sic  Autlqulty  Is  euchautiug,  and  it  served  to  uphold  the  glorious  throne,  glorious  as 

was'^conveyed  to    ^een  from  such  a  distance  as  Karl  was  from  it.    Herder  called  this  throne  the  bridge 
Europe.  over  which  the  classic   world  would   pass    into  the  new.     It  was  what  Karl's 

throne  was  to  the  Germanic  world. 

It  was  not  only  in  the  time  of  Columbus'  boyhood,  when  Constantinople  fell  and 
the  scholars  brought  their  books  to  Italy, — it  was  even  as  early  as  Karl's  time — that 
Constantine's  city  served  as  a  conductor  of  oriental  ideas  by  way  of  the  Latin  nations. 
This  city  then  already  did  not  only  send  gobelin  tapestry  and  fine  embroidery,  woolen 
stuffs  of  exquisite  make  and  fashion,  but  above  all  the  glitter  of  aristocratic  vain- 
glory. 

We  know  nobility  ever  to  cultivate  a  predilection  for  the  nimbus  of  the  Antique, 
and  the  Germans  always  thought  much  of  what  comes  "from  afar".    Let  us  see  what 
8 127,  at  th^  end  ^j^g  imported  from  Byzanz  on  that  score. 

Ambitious  for  appearances  of  dignity,  Karl  resorted  to  imitating  oriental  grav- 
ity, and  managed  to  get  possession  of  three  silver  tables.    Upon  one  could  be  seen  the 


•tables. 


n  F.  Ch.  I.  §  137.  ORIENTALISM  WARDED  OFF,  YET  ADMITTED  BY  THE  FRANKS.  259 

picture  of  the  whole  known  world;  upon  the  other  that  of  Rome;  Constantinople  Nobnity  always  favors 
sparkled  upon  the  third.    This  circumstance  is  very  descriptive  of  the  clever  judg-  IntiqlTe.''"^  °*  "'^ 
ment  which  Karl  had  formed  of  the  situation  of  the  world.    Throwing  eager  glances    ^*'^'  ^''' "'  ^^'  '^^'  ^"• 
over  to  Constantinople  and  up  to  Rome,  he  perceives,  as  in  a  prophetic  vision,  all  the  emblematic  of 
complications  which  not  only  kept  up  Mediaeval  agitation,  but  also  loomed  up  again  the  problems 
before  the  imagination  of  Napoleon,  and  which  down  to  our  own  days  involve  the  aliufthi^the 
toucli-me-not  of  the  eastern  hemisphere.  Germanic  and 

*^  Romanised 

Karl  must  have  had  such  a  foreboding,  when  in  his  time  he  meditated  upon  this  {\^e*^"/jy^  **j  ***® 
problem.    For  it  was  then  that  "the  Holy  Roman  Empire  of  the  German  Nation"    Tf22,  mjL39yi8] 
entered  upon  its  duty  of  warding  off  oriental  invasions,  whilst  at  the  same  time  "Holy  Roman 
plenty  of  portentous  oriental  influences  were  admitted  unaware.  Germanen  *t"^   " 

When  Emperor  Theodosius  walked  the  streets  of  Constantinople,  he  used  to  please  the  opened  its  career 
people  by  wearing  the  shoulder-cape  of  Senuphius,  the  anchoret;  and  in  this  costume  he  orierftal^"^ 
also  went  to  battle.    The  predecessors  of  Karl,  the  Franconian  king,  had  long  before  adopted  invasions, 
this  pious  fashion  by  wearing  the  mantle  of  St.  Martin,  when  they  started  for  the  seat  of  war.  §  67, 78,  97,  ]25, 

Charles  the  Bald,  long  after  Karl,  continued  this  pious  custom  with  his  ^almatica  trailing  ^^^* 

down  from  a  silken  cloth  that  was  fastened  beneath  the  diadem  around  his  head.   For,— so  the  Yet  admitting 
annals  of  Fulda  say— "he  showed  contempt  of  native  Franconian  manners,  and  held  Greek  orfentaf  ^^ 
glory  to  be  the  highest".  influences. 

The  escutcheons  of  the  European  States  today  witness  how  the  Byzantine  taste  for  pomp  85  95  97  122  123 
and  nimbus  was  perpetuated  in  order  to  cover  up  a  wrong  principle,  and  to  amuse  the  people  124,  '25'  126, 129' 
with  something  outlandish,  with  orientalism.  130,  131, 139, 142, 

„  146,  149,  ]50,  185, 

Karl,  after  all,  did  not  think  quite  as  much  of  eastern  pomp  as  his  .weak  descend-  188,  i9i. 

ants.    He  saw  the  ridiculous  weakness  over  there.    From  this  circumstance  he  con-  SquS.^  *""^ 
eluded  that  he  himself  was  destined  to  establish  the  true  succession  upon  the  throne  The  meaning  of  the 
of  the  Roman  Empire.    When  he  directed  the  collection  of  the  old  German  "shield-  SfblSng  national 
songs",  or  when  he  forced  the  Saxons  into  subjection  after  eighteen  expeditions,  and  «^'="t<=heons. 
when  he  ordered  the  statue  of  Theodoric  to  be  brought  down  from  Ravenna  and  to  be  Kari  deemed  himseif 

o  the  true  successor  upon 

set  up  before  his  castle  in  Aachen;  he  already  posed  as  the  personified  continuance  Roman  em ^T""^* 
of  the  old  monarchy.  §  132, 133,  i36, 139, 

142. 

This  thought  actually  pervaded  his  whole  policy;  and  he  was  encouraged  in  it  by 
those  who  understood  how  to  make  his  good  qualities  subservient  to  their  own  ulti-   ^"""^  ^%n,  125, 126,150. 
mate  aims. 

"  Hail  to  the  Christ  "—exclaims  the  Salian  law— "who  loves  the  Franks!  May  He  protect 
their  kingdom,  for  it  is  the  nation  which  with  the  sword  has  shaken  off  the  Roman  yoke  Conception  of  the 

Savior  Byzantinised, 

from  its  neck ;  the  nation  which,  after  having  accepted  of  baptism,  adorned  the  bodies  of  the  §  125. 

martyrs  with  gold  and  precious  stones,  of  the  martyrs  who  once  were  burned,  or  decapitated 
with  the  ax  by  the  Romans." 

Evidently,  this  Christ  is  a  copy  of  that  conception  of  an  awe-inspiring  ruler,  into  which 
the  Byzantine  court-theology  had  disfigured  the  Savior.    At  the  rear  wall  of  the  apsis  in  the  as  is  most  obvious  even 
Aachen  cathedral,  to  which  one  ascends  from  the  tenebrous  church  with  its  multitude  of  ^*  Aachen. 
poorly  arranged  and  clumsy  galleries,  there  is  enthroned  a  callous,  gloomy  figure  upon  the 
golden  background  of  thepainting— the  Judge  of  the  World.    Emperor  Karl  was  surrounded 
by  objects  wrought  in  such  style  wherever  he  turned  his  eye  or  his  step.    Textures  which  he 
imported,  especially  those  for  sacred  use,  golden  decorations  which  he  ordered  from  his  gold- 
smiths; evangelaries  which  he  made  to  be  copied  and  bound,  chapels  which  he  built— every- 
thing breathes  Byzantine  taste.  Even  the  suggestions  intimated  to  him  by  the  Eastern  patri-  ?  g  ^^*  ^."^^''s® 
arch  to  take  the  part  of  the  inconoclasts  he  did  not  altogether  discourage,  to  the  chagrin  of  court-theology, 
the  pope. 

If  the  actions  of  Karl  are  scrutinised,  we  find  in  them  all  his  guiding  idea  as  to 
the  important  position  of  Constantinople.      He  was  not  averse  to  that  attitude  even,  which  cautioned  the 
which  the  Byzantine  court  maintained  with  respe'  t  to  theology.   He  himself  assumed  l^ok  t^  ite^fgÄr 
a  somewhat  similar  position,  so  that  it  was  just  this  Cesaro-papism  which  cautioned  flfrrngemente'.*' 
the  hierarchy  to  look  to  its  rights  as  against  imperial  infringments  upon  their  own 
domain,  at  the  proper  occasion. 

CH.  II.    DEVELOPING  PRINCIPLES  OF  THE  EUROPEAN  CIVILISATION. 

§  138.  The  undercurrent  of  the  ensuing  history  of  the  Aryans  in  New  Europe  we 
found  in  a  great  measure  to  be  determined  by  the  mythically  biased  form  of  con- 
sciousness, which  they  had  brought  along  from  their  original  home.  Every  group  of 
this  race  is  saturated  with  the  elements  of  their  common  source.  The  modifications 
observed  so  far  were  produced  by  the  various  localities  they  severally  occupied. 


260  CHRISTIANITY  PLANTED  IN  THE  "HEART  OF  GERMANY."       II.  F.  Ch.  II.  §  138. 

German  peculiar  ^^^  1^*  "^  Consider,  in  the  first  place,  to  what  concepts  of  freedom  and  to  the 
idous  concerning  right  to  possess  the  Germanic  nations  had  advanced.  In  the  preceding  chapter  we 
right  of  spoke,  after  all,  merely  of  the  Franconian  part  of  the  German  empire, 

possession.  ^^^  Pipins,  Karl's  ancestors,  had  all  been  of  what  we  now  would  call  Dutch  de- 

scent; but  the  Franks  had  to  a  large  extent  become  mixed  with  the  Romanised 
Gauls.  The  pure  Germans  were  subjugated  to  the  idea  of  a  Roman  empire  only  after 
more  than  fifty  fierce  battles. 

favTerM"^*"^*  "°*  ^"  short,  we  so  far  reviewed  the  interlappings  of  the  vanishing  Roman  culture  with  the 

misrepresented  by  advancing   Germanic  civilisation.     We  perceived  some  of  the  commotion  generated  by  the 

Robinson  and  Guizot.  commingling upon  the  soil  of  a  newly  forming  nation,  where  partö  may  appear  comparatively 

uncultivated,  but  in  no  way  as  savage  as  Robinson  and  Guizot  once  misrepresented  them. 

The  people  of  France  came  to  view  first,  simply  because  they  were  just  then  the  most  promi- 

Fran^      ®  nent  and  pugnacious,  sequent  to  many  divisions  of  the  empire  among  the  Karolingian  heirs. 

the  old  pagan  morality      It  was  among  the  Franks,  as  H.  v.  Leo  has  proved,  that  the  old  pagan  morality  went  to  pieces. 

went  to  pieces.^  ^  ^^^  rpij^^  ruins  of  that  morality  were  the  results  of  Roman  dissipation  and  tribal  jealousy  between 
Celto-Romans  and  Germans,  as  became  obvious  in  the  wars  between  Brunhilde  and 
Fredegunde. 

Among  these  ruins  a  very  peculiar  form  of  Christianity  planted  a  rude  code  of  manner» 

Two  sets  of  ^jjjj  morals.    We  may  even  say  with  Wuttke  and  Dorner  that  two  sets  of  ethics  were  elabora- 

enjoined.  t^d :  one  for  the  worldly  people  or  laity,  the  other  for  the  orders,  which  enjoined  the  necessity 

WuTTKK,  DoRiJBR.  of  certain  observances,  especially  of  penances.     In  no  other  way  could  the  heinous  crimes 

of  the  Merovingian  times  be  accounted  for.    In  all  the  ferocious  movements  of  that  period 

^  there  is  only  one  feature  helping  us  over  the  disgust.     The  thought  of  national  unity  was 

upheld  under  the  unflinching  resistance  against  tyrannical  measures.  The  aspiration  in  this 
direction  would  have  worked  difPerent  results,  if  the  fighters  with  their  unsophisticated  loy- 
alty had  been  enlightened  enough  not  to  allow  themselves  to  be  made  the  tools  of  a  hundred 
intrigues. 

History  must  grope  its  We  kuow  how  hlstory  can  only  feel  its  way  along  the  paths  of  progress,  much 

^pecuiiy'in'^matters      more  SO  ou  the  uarrow  way  of  ethical  improvement.  As  it  was,  the  ethical  conceptions 

of  ethics.     §  i23,  m,  146-,  .,  .u«,,, 

had  grown  into  a  wilderness  of  underbrush. 

The  discrimination  between  the  two  sets  of  ethics  alone  explains  how  and  why 
the  new  doctrines,  brought  by  the  unromanised  Culdean  missionaries  into  interior 
Germany,  wrought  so  totally  different  results.    Theirs  was  gospel  preaching,  falling 
oi^German"  °^     ^^^^  *^^  miuds  of  an  Unadulterated  nation.    Under  their  original  usages  and  tradi- 
virtues  under       tious,  those  uoble  Thuringiaus  had  preserved  their  natural  virtues.    When  the  mis- 
preaching  sionaries  met  them,  they  found  them  a  cordial  and  susceptible  people,  without  casu- 

notwithstanding  the 


^lai^ers'of  Bonfface.      Istlc  reflectlou,  but  wlth  nalve  sentiments  grown  from  chaste  habits,  notwithstanding 

AND  Leo. 
139, 156, 
158,  165. 


8  lat^ias.  139, 156;  the  Slanders  of  Boniface. 


Leo  from  his  point  of  view  could  not  appreciate  this  example  of  Bible-Christianity 
among  the  unmixed  Germans,  which  Ebrard  has  elucidated  and  substantiated  in  a  masterly 
manner  from  documentary  sources. 

We  shall  observe  later  on,  how  among  the  underbrush  of  Romanised  ethics  a  tender  root 
remained  alive  in  this  central  and  secluded  region,  which,  figuratively  speaking,  we  designate 
the  heart  of  Germany. 

The  Roman  nations  had  been  the  road-builders,  in  aid  of  distributing  occidental 
culture  in  the  same  way  as  public  highways  are  essential  for  the  distribution  of 
merchandise.  They  communicated  the  proceeds  of  ancient  culture  to  the  Aryans  of 
the  North,  the  good  and  the  bad. 

The  "Barbarians"  could  not  discriminate  if  they  were  inH)Osed  upon  in  the 

Later  transaction.     The   Southern  Aryans  communicated  Christianity  clothed  with  the 

of  TlhUrfrlSan       forms  of  their  old  culture.     It  is  not  to  be  expected  of  the  Goths  and  Franks 

RominiLed.^^^'^^  ^^^*  Under  so  sparse  preaching  of  the  word  of  the  cross,  they  should  have  been 

§  127, 134,  ii2, 144,  able  to  distinguish  alloy   or  emballage  from  the  genuine   essence  of   religion- 

156, 169.  Christianity  of  that  far  less  defiled  quality,  of  the  kind  that  Basilius   and  his  Cappa- 

docian  friends  had  taught,  which  the  Culdeans  had  preserved  from  patristic  times^ 

deeply    touching  the  soul's  chords,  and  which  the   Swiss  and   Thuringians  had 

Peculiarity  of  the  acccpted  wlth  the  Gospel  as  preached  by  Willibrord,  Gallus,  Fridolin  and  other  Anglo- 

Schristfanity."*   Saxous,  a  ceutury  previous  to  Boniface,— such  Scriptural  subjective  Christianity 

alone  generates  that  spirituality,  which  sets  men  free  and  to  thinking.    This  pristine 

piety,  much  like  that  of  the  Culdeans  who  had  planted  it  in  the  heart  of  Germany, 

Inner  life  of  piety.         ^{^  not  pay  much  atteutlou  to  forms  of  cultus  or  church-government.    Religion  with 

them  was  treated  as  a  matter  of  the  inner  life,  and  of  conscientious  self  discipline. 


II.  F.  Ch.  II.  §  139.  DIFFERENCE  BETWEEN  GERMANIC  AND  ROMANISED  RELIGIOUSNESS.  261 

The  Romanised  Franks,  on  the  other  hand,  furnished  the  objective  factors  for  the 
external  perpetuity  of  Christian  culture.    They  were  talented  in  organising,  were  ^  ^. 
learned  in  law,  and  fond  of  an  Old  Testament  form  of  obeisance  to  an  enjoined  consti-  as^mutLn^® 
tution.    The  essence  of  Christian  piety  with  them  was  conformity  to  the  institu-  5,^.^^^^.  ... 
tional  externals.    As  far  as  it  goes,  that  was  well  enough;  but  the  subjective  assimila-  St.  Patrick.^  ^ 
tion  of  the  essence  and  substance  for  which  the  Northern  sense  of  liberty  and  per-  ^^"eor. 
sonal  dignity  had  a  predilection,  which  had  been  nourished  from  Bangor  and  by  the  The  Franks  organise 
fraternities  of  St.  Patrick,  was  in  decidedly  better  tenor  with  the  New  Testament.        join  ecciesiasticisra.'and 

'  ,  enjoin  conformity  and 

But  Northern  subjectivism,  prone  to  sectarianism  and  separatistic  selfconceit,  obedience. 
like  that  of  the  Hellenes,  had  to  learn  that  the  organic  connection  with  the  body  is  nee-  gj^f^^^^^® 
essary.   The  Saxons  were  bound  to  accustom  themselves  to  exercise  real  membership  Difference  between 
in  a  churchly  way.  For  in  the  progress  of  applied  ethics,  cooperation  must  go  hand  in  British 
hand  with  self  improvement.  Well,  Boniface  attended  to  the  external  requirement  with  ^^iJThe  ^**^ 
an  eye  upon,  and  an  ear  for,  Pipin's  policy  so  perfectly  coinciding  with  the  aims  of  his  ?he"swfii%*lopie 
own  ambition.    The  interests  of  Rome  and  Paris,  of  St.  Denis,  St.  Remi  and  Mayence,  §  127, 135, 

were  intimately  connected  and  identical.  reconstruction  of 

The  process  of  social  organisation  and  personal  assimilation  of  Christianity,  as  ^^^^^S^fg^'  ^44  156 
thus  initiated  among  the  Latin  and  German  nations  in  their  close  proximity,  explains 
to  some  extent  their  contrast  to  the  Eastern  Aryans  of  Europe.    The  Slavs  did  not  Difference 
take  hold  upon  the  task  of  working  out  this  problem  in  which  we  see  the  Roman-  enlTelTaud 
ised  and  Germanic  nations  becoming  engaged.    The  Eastern  nations  were  Byzan-  western  Aryans, 
tinised,  and  hence  remained  merely  formal,  less  decisive  and  more  pliable  in  conse-  siavs  Byzantinised. 
quence  of  their  shallow  religiousness.     The  German  disposition  of  mind  required,  and  Germans  had  to 
was  assisted  in,  the  reciprocity  with  Rome  until  the  litigating  parties  arrived  at  a  definite  set=  Intertahf'^  *** 
tlement.    The  contrast  between  Latin  and  German  nations  being  obvious  from  the  reciprocity  with 
beginning,  it  soon  became  clear,  altho  the  nations  were  not  sufficiently  conscious  definite  "^^ 
thereof  to  formulate  the  discrepancies  into  a   clear  modus  vivendi,  that  the  one  be^^li^hed.^^"^*^ 
meant  theocracy  and  law,  the  other  personal  piety,  responsibility    and  Gospel.     Tho    §  i-^^,  142, 145, 146, 
polar  strain  was  most  vividly  felt  during  that  protracted  procedure,  wherein  claims 
were  to  be  adjusted  between^  Christianity  and  ecclesiastical  government,  between  RomkTa^^d^^^^ 
Church  and  State,  religion  and  diplomacy,  dominion  and  "Service".  German 

The  Slavonic  disposition  of  mind  in  its  reciprocity  with  the  Byzantine  cast  of  sahitar";  ^^^ 
religiousness  did  not  require  this  settlement  with  the  Greek  form,  or  rather  deform-  fntriiSic  necessity  from 
ity,  of  Christianity.    There  an  objective  center  of  gravity  and  unity,  or  rather  uni-  *§V3if'i32l'il5,  us,  ue, 
formity,  existed.  Nobody  had  a  mind  to  inquire  into  subjectivity  for  assimilation  or  ^^^'  ^^^'  ^^^' 

spiritual  aspiration.    The  difference  between  the  Slavs  and  the  temper  of  the  Greek  ^^fj^roeai  relation 
Church  was  always  enveloped  in  an  oriental  haze.    For  the  Greek  character  had,  un-  no^eiisloil^ 
like  the  Roman,  passed  away  long  ago.    Hence  there  was  no  tension  in  the  East,  and  no  improvement.  _^  ^^^ 
no  ethical  improvement  resulting. 

The  Greek  side  of  European  culture  we  leave  for  further  examination,  because  it  was 
only  since  the  variance  between  Othmanic,  despot-ridden  nations  of  Eastern  Europe   and   cTvlusationTpostponed. 
the  Germano-Romanised  nations,  under  their  constitutional  or  at  least  legal  management,  be-  §  ^^^'  '^^' 

came  so  very  pronounced,  that  a  polarity  has  been  rendered  active  which  in  its  acuteness  al- 
most resembles  that  between  the  Ganges  and  the  Tiber. 

§  139.    We  anticipate  that  in  the  west  the  princes  were  protectors  of  the  rights  of  German  precedents 
the  people,  and  the  wardens  of  governmental  authority  ever  since  Theodoric  had  trX"'"'  *°  ^°^^^\  ,35^ 
made,  and  on  the  whole  held,  his  vow  in  this  respect  conscientiously.    In  the  eyes  of 
the  people  their  dignity  consisted  in  being  impartial  judges  by  the  nature  of  their 
office.  Hence,  as  a  general  thing  authority  was  respected  by  the  masses,  not  so  much 
the  subjects  of  the  princes  as  their  retainers.     The  princes  were    obliged,  under  princLTand\e\t1ners 
oath,  to  protect  innumerable  franchises  and  exemptions  of  hereditary  personal  rights,  ^^^^"^  "^"^  *^'^^^'*^ 
rights  of  cities,  estates,  and  institutions. 

This  was  the  case  even  in  Spain  despite  the  conglomeration  of  German,  Franconian. 
Italian,  Castilo-Catalonian,  and  Baskian  elements.    Every  country  having  its  own  history,  it 
was  a  sacred  custom  that  each  noble  family  was  esteemed  for  some  excellent  service  rendered 
to  the  commonwealth  by  one  or  more  of  its   members.     Distinction  of  that  type  deserved 
recognition  which  was  not  withheld,  unless  the  privilege  had  been  forfeited  and  withdrawn  by 
tacit  consent.     This  fact  is  reflected,  as  Ranke  with  fine   insight  pointed  out,  in  the  long-    princes  the 
winded  titles  of  sovereigns  great  and  small  still  in  vogue.    For  the  history  of  civilisation  they  wardens  of 
are  of  great  weight,  since  in  these  tenures  the  rights  and  demands  of  the  dignity  and  liberty  rights  under 
of  each  baronage,  of  each  county  and  free  city  are  at  least  recognised,  if  no  longer  warranted. 
But  in  order  to  search  deeper  for  these  fixed  rights  and  duties  we  go  further  back. 


262 

Genesis  of 

constitutional 

government. 


"Heliand' 

noiaiiei  Byzantine 
pattern. 
§  125,  135,  136,  138.  159. 

The  "world's  healer," 

§  135,  159. 

Relation  to  the  Savior 
founded  on  vow  of 
fidelity. 

§  134,  136. 138,  159. 


Tfot  the  politico  Roman 
conception  of  the 
Savior  attracted  the 
Oernians,  but  the 
Christ  preached  to  them 
by  the  Culdeans  and 
their  Anglo-Saxon 
kinsfolks. 
S  135,  138,  142,  145,  146. 
150,  156. 

<Sospel  attractive 
because  of  its  being 
conducive  to 

personal 
freedom 

iirst  and  foremost. 

§134,  138,  141,175. 


Principles 
requisite  to 
constitutional 
g-overnment 

under  elective  kingship 


Love  of  independence, 
validity  of  man's  parole 
of  honor,  practice  of 
fellowship. 


•Criticism  of  the  "pure 
monarchy'"  which 
Guizot  mistook  for  the 
«cme  of  civilisation. 


I^ot  celibacy  (Guizot) 
wa.s  the  reason  that  a 
priestly  caste-rule  could 
not  be  established,  but 
the  resistance  of 

Germans  based 
upon  the  oath  of 
loyalty  to  princes 

§143. 


and  upon  the 
consciousness  that 

God  is  on  good 
terms  with  man 
regardless  of 
oflfieious 
intercessors. 

§159. 


CULDEAN  GOSPEL-PREACHING  AND  BONIFACE'S  ORGANISATION.       11.  F.  CH.  II.  §  139. 

The  expected  "world-embracer"  had  been  preached  to  the  Germans  as  a  friend, 
just  before  the  plaintive  sounds  of  the  "god-sagas"  had  died  away  on  the  Rhine, 
Weser,  Main,  and  in  the  Thuringian  forests.  The  great  national  epics  composed 
from  the  hero-legends  render  these  expectations  evident. 

upon  the  rainbow  of  peace,  arching  over  the  scenes  of  recent  turmoil  and  grim 
battles,  and  in  pensive  meditation,  those  hopes  arise  which  are  plainly  expressed  in 
"The  Heliand." 

The  "World's  Healer,"  as  the  Savior  is  so  beautifully  and  originally  conceived  in  the 
German  "Heiland,"  is  the  good  duke,  a  steadfast,  trustworthy  and  mild  leader,  the  cordial 
Lord  of  the  Manor.  He  invites  His  kindred  and  retainers  into  His  castle-hall  and  entertains 
them  in  the  most  bountiful  manner.  The  description  of  such  a  "king  of  the  common  people" 
went  to  the  hearts  of  vassal  and  serf  alike,  to  whom  nothing  was  more  sacred  than  personal 
attachment  to  the  prince  under  the  vow  of  fidelity. 

In  this  personal  devotion  (gilaubjan,  that  is,  geloben,  hence  "to  love"  and  "glauben") 
that  relation  of  faith  was  founded  in  which  the  nations  became  Christians  along  with  the 
princes. 

Peoples  with  the  characteristic  features  of  cordial  and  faithful  adherence  to  cus- 
tomary relations  between  lord  and  retainers  in  troth  and  in  deed  were  attracted  by 
Christianity  at  the  first  instant.  Previous  to  the  times  in  which  the  policy  of  con- 
quest and  missionary  efforts  were  intermixed,  and  the  Byzantine  picture  of  Christ 
was  held  out  to  them,  they  willingly  embraced  the  glad  tidings.  The  Christ 
of  the  Scottish  and  Anglo-Saxon  gospel  won  the  hearts  of  men,  because  it  brought 
out  the  value  of  a  person  and  entitled  him  to  that  freedom  which  is  not  at  all  incon- 
sistent with  proper  relations  of  dependency. 

A  German  of  the  average  caliber  is  known  for  his  preference  of  death  to  serfdom. 
He  will  maintain  the  right  to  personal  freedom  first  and  foremost,  even  if  nice  judg- 
ment and  smooth  conventionalism  should  be  violated. 

To  his  principle  of  manliness  he  would  adhere  tho  the  nation  should  fall  to  pieces.  He  is 
shocked  by  an  epithet  like :  I  go  with  my  country,  right  or  wrong !  His  conception  of  a  free  man 
in  the  true  sense  is  in  no  way  marred,  but  on  the  contrary— according  to  his  opinion— is  favor- 
ed and  elevated  by  Christianity.  The  Germans  frequently  made  themselves  ridiculous  when 
it  seemed  too  hard  a  lesson  for  them  to  give  up  interests  and  ideas  of  subordinate  import,  yet 
this  very  love  of  independence,  to  the  extent  of  clannishness,  created  the  various  leagues  which 
continually  compelled  them  to  exercise  that  good  faith  upon  which  the  confederacies  were 
founded,  and  to  practise  that  fellowship,  by  which  their  consciousness  of  common  nationality 
was  well  enough  cemented  after  all. 

Thus  the  leagues,  stimulating  the  practice  of  fidelity,  honesty,  and  considerateness,— in  a 
word  the  proverbial  "Deutsche  Treue"— were  just  as  rnuch,  if  not  more,  conducive  to  civilisa- 
tion,thanthe  governmental  powers  concentrated  in  dynasties.  The  Germanic  peoples  insisting 
upon  the  right  of  selfdetermination,  prevented  such  concentration  into  "pure  monarchy"  as 
Guizot  in  the  beginning  of  his  political  career  taught  to  be  the  acme  of  civilisation.  We  are 
aware  of  the  risk  of  provoking  serious  criticism  as  if  our  judgment  was  biased  by  national 
haughtiness,  within  a  philosopher  of  another  nation,  within  a  man, perhaps,  as  good  as  Guizot. 
He  is  not  to  be  vituperated,  if  he  was  not  used  to  look  upon  the  advantages  of  Germanic 
development  in  the  light  we  do.  We  would  therefore,by  the  way,beg  leave  to  rather  dispel  the 
appearance  of  selfaggrandisement,  and  to  retire  into  that  modesty  of  the  Germans  to  which 
other  nations  were  accustomed.  So  far  as  the  Germans  are  now  known  as  the  particular 
nation  of  late,  they  are  simply  attempting  to  promulgate  true  principles  of  ethics,  and  the 
world  knows,  that  a  few  of  them  were  set  free  by  German  conscientiousness.  This  motor- 
power  of  modern  history,  which  it  certainly  ought  to  be,  at  least,  showed  its  forebodings 
among  the  Germanic  peoples  throughout  the  Middle- Ages.  Emphasising  these  facts  in  all 
honesty  of  purpose,  the  Germans  themselves  guard  against  a  partial  or  artful  interpretation 
of  history,  which  in  their  own  behalf  they  deem  not  necessary. 

The  staunch  belief  of  the  Germans  in  their  rights,  natural  and  divine,  the  pro- 
tection of  which  was  made  the  duty  of  the  ruler  under  oath,  wrought  out  elective 
monarchies,  created  constitutions  and  charters.  And  the  watchfulness  as  to  personal 
rights  was  the  cause— not  celibacy  as  Guizot  thought— that  hierarchal  assumption  of 
supremacy  and  a  perpetuating  exclusiveness  of  priestly  caste-rule  was  never  agreed 
tol  If  it  came  to  that,  some  parts  of  the  Germans  were  ever  ready  to  shed  their  blood; 
for  national  independence  from  papal  diplomacy.  The  free  man,  even  when  yet  a  heathen, 
had  the  feeling— tho  he  could  not  express  it  in  so  many  words  as  did  the  poet:—-,] 
that  he  may  be  on  good  terms  with  the  gods,  not  on  account  of  ofiicious  intercessors,; 
but  for  his  own  sake.  And  now,  with  the  loyalty  of  the  cordial  and  benign  but  ma-  ] 
jestic  prince  of  all  the  nations,  on  the  natural  basis  of  earlier  and  sound  convictions^; 
a  new  sera  dawned  upon  the  Germanic  nations. 


n.  F.  CH.  IL  §  139.  EFFECT  OF  EVANGELISATION  UPON  AGRICULTUBE.  263 

Concerning  Boniface,  the  Saxons  were  fully  aware  of  what  was  going  on,  when^he  drove  The  diplomacy  of 
away  the  married  ministers  of  the  Thuringiaus,  or  when  he  returned  from  the  curia  of     °     ^^'  §  133, 150,  leo, 
Gregory  and  the  court  of  Pipin.    At  last  the  Germans  of  the  interior  had  to  submit  to  the 
execution  of  Italian  plans  at  Romanising,  with  the  power  of  the  state  at  command.    They 
made  the  best  of  it,  but  never  with  all  their  heart.    The  way  in  which  they  had  protested 
against  the  mode  of  their  conversion  was  not  forgotten  in  all  the  seven  centuries  following-  did  never  completely 
A  peculiar  sympathy  was  kept  up  throughout  this  period  with  the  remnants  of  the  Culdeans,   H^giT-Gemmns''*'^'^'^* 
with  the  Begghards  and  Lollards,  WyclifPe's  proteges,  a  matter  over  which  Romanism  ever  S  i3ö,  138, 156, 169. 

betrayed  fidgetiness,  especially  when  the  Bible  was  read  in  Anglo-Saxon  at  Lutterworth. 

With  Karl  the  preliminaries  of  a  new  European  civilisation  had  attained  to  a  ^^^.^  reutionshi  to 
fixed  order  of  progression.    To  complete  these  transitory  measures  it  had  taken  his-  culd'e^^christfanit 
tory  four  hundred  years.    Old  memories  of  German  mythology,  which  as  yet  had  re-  ^^"^'^  °§ 'm'^m'^iss  m 
mained  overlapping  Christianity  throughout  this  intervening  period,  just  began  to 
pass  into  extinction.    The  transition  was  precisely  defined  when  emperor  Ludwig  the 
Pious  took  the  precaution  to  make  a  memorandum  of  a  few  essential  sentences  of  "Muspiiu" 
"Muspilli,"  the  world-conflagration  in  his  prayer-book,  in  order  to  save  them  from  dSnrt'es  «Te'"'""'' 
utter  oblivion.    This  coincided  with  the  composition  of  the  epic  on  the  "Heliand"  end  of  the 
which  was  the  signal  of  advance  upon  the  field  of  action  in  the  new  sera.    Immedi-  reügiousness™  ^ 
ately  the  ethical  results  began  to  appear  in  theTdawning  of  the  new  culture  implied 
in  the  term  "civilisation." 

In  the  measure,  as  man's  relation  to  God  is  clearing  up,  the  relations  to  the  en-  among  the  oermans- 
vironments  also  receive  proper  attention,  and  find  their  normal  adjustment,  so  that  ^e"^*  **  ^^^  '*"'*'  *'""* 
even  the  earth  will  partake  of  the  good  effects.    We  come  to  see  the  connection  be-  op?„t\^ife"*^" 
tween  cultus  and  culture  in  a  bright,  new  light;  we  perceive  the  conciliation  of  new  sera  of 
earthly  existence  with  human  de^stiny,  which  Greek  culture  in  vain  was  striving  at,  proper, 
which  Christianity  alone  can  fully  realise.    Will  it  not  seem  marvelous  that  the  first  Bearing  of  cultus 
domain  of  culture  in  general,  which  profits  from  reinstating  proper  ethical  relations,  upon  culture  in  a 
is— agriculture?    Wherever  civilisation  becomes  visible  we  see  it  rooted  in  the  occu-  ^lls,^!?,  54, 56, 58, 
pation  of  farming,  where  it  also  will  be  consummated  when  swords  shall  be  wrought     ^^i^i^2  ^if?  m 
into  ploughshares.  I56,'i75,'i98. 

The  rapacious  treatment  of  the  soil  to  the  extent  of  exhaustion,  and  felling  the  forests,  „   ^j^,      .  x^ 
cause  destructive  inundations  here,  and  sterile  plains  there.    Devastation  of  countries  as  fine  final  destiny  conciliated. 
as  Mesopotamia  or  Spain  has   been,  was  and  ever  will  be  the  consequence,  if  first  occupants» 
heedless  of  the  future  and  viciously  inconsiderate  of  posterity,  are  greedy  in  appropriating 
what  nature  offers  without  doing  anything  towards  its  elevation  in  return. 

Such  people  can  take  out  of  the  soil  as  much  as  their  haste  permits  and,  hurrying  to  ne\i' 
fields,  will  abandon  the  wasted  region  in  poverty.  Even  a  settled  nation  like  the  Egyptians 
have  finally  made  their  own  country  one  vast  grave  of  their  own  culture,  by  the  neglect  if- not 
disdain  of  agriculture.  And  this  aversion  to  rural  pursuit  will  generally  be  found  to  corres- 
pond with  the  degree  of  religious  decay,  in  porportion  to  the  neglect  of  the  cultus. 

With  Christianity  there  came  a  new  kind  of  attachment  to  the  soil  and  a  most 
profitable  pleasure  in  its  cultivation.  It  seems  as  if  man— reconciled  to  God,  quitting  fiSt  domain  *^^ 
the  restless  ways  of  Cain  in  the  hunt  for  diversion  or  for  luck,  and  obtaining  that  profiting  from 
contentment  which  is  not  to  be  found  in  the  attempt  at  dispelling  the  pains  of  re-  of^ethicai^  *°^^" 
morse  by  excitement— learns  to  love  the  ground.    His  eye,  when  the  heart  is  at  peace  ^''*°^^§  62?'i36, 222. 
and  in  love  with  God,  finds  a  peculiar  pleasure  in  nature,  whilst  in  return  nature 
seems  to  look  up  to  man  more  amiably,  and  yields  sweeter  blessings.    Mutual  grati- 
tude seems  to  take  the  place  of  former  rebellion  and  toilsome  recovery.    The  soil  re- 
ceives tender  care  and  the  surroundings  seem  to  breath  a  paradisian  serenity.    Man 
now  becomes  conscious  of  his  sacred  right  to  say  "My  father  made  all  of  this  ;  it  be- 
longs tome!" 

In  the  beginning  it  is  always  pasture  that  the  roaming  cattle-owner  is  wanting.    To  ob-  simultaneous  decline  of 
tain  the  best,  he  is  ever  ready  to  fight,  until  he  makes  fighting  his  pleasure.    As  soon  as  he  has  religion,  ethics,  and 
organised  his  forces,  and  yielded  to  the  discipline  which  war  peremtorily  requires,  he  enters  ^^  "'*' 
the  borders  of  culture;  but  the  state  of  civilisation  does  not  begin,  until  he  delights  in  culti- 
vating a  garden  around  his  home. 

It  was  the  want  of  pasture  that  moved  the  German  to  cross  the  Alps  and  made  him  a  Evangelical  Christianity 
terror  to  Rome  and'  Byzanz.    The  Aryan  was  a  farmer  to  the  manor  born ;  but  to  the  estab-   procures  proper 
lishment  of  husbandry  and  agrarian  contentment  and  steadiness  he  did  not  accommodate  him-  earthly  relations. 
self  until  he  could  wander  no  further  because  the  West  was  already  possessed  by  others.    The  ^  ^^'  '2^'  '***■  •^^• 

migrations  had  their  cause  and  their  end  in  these  conditions ;  the  altered  circumstances  made 
"farming  off"  to  give  way  to  "economy",  that  is,  to  rational  and  economical  tilling  of  the 
fields. 


Pleasure  in 
agriculture. 

Bight  of  private 


With  regrulating  the 
"marks'  i.  e.  boundary 
lines,  right  develops  into 

jurisprudence. 

FnndatneHtal 
conceptions  of  the 
Germans  as  to 

rights  and  duties. 

Trials  of  cases  in 
daylight  to  "find"  a 
verdict 


Unwritten  standards  of 
rights, 


religious  reverence  for 
customs. 


Higher  morality  than 
that  yielded  by  modern 

''practicing"  law. 


A  right  is  a 
divinely 
warranted 
privilege  under 
obligation  of 
faithful 
discharge  of 
duty. 


"German  right" 

coming  in  conflict  with 

*'Ronian  law". 

Difference  between  civil 
and  ecclesiastical 
judicatories. 

Canonics-"Schoeppen.'' 


Boman  law 

has  the 

State 

for  its  object; 

German  right 

remains  in  the 

person. 

Gradations  of  rants. 
Suzerain  and  vassal. 


Traits  of  humane 
treatment  of  subjects. 


DUTIES  AND  RIGHTS  CONDITIONING  ONE  ANOTHER.  II.  F.  Ch.  II  §  140. 

The  German  began  to  love  the  ground  for  the  possession  of  which  his  forefathers  had 
suffered  and  for  the  improvement  of  which  he  himself  had  labored  hard  and  continually.  He 
became  attached  to  his  Hof  or  Hufe,  that  is,  to  real  estate  as  measured  by  the  number  of 
oxen's  or  horses'  hoofs  it  took  to  cultivate  what  by  the  casting  of  "lots"  had  become  his  allot- 
ment. It  was  marked  out,  and  from  these  "marks"  which  religiously  protected  his  rightful 
ownership,  a  thousand  juridical  regulations  developed  as  the  natural  result. 

§  140.  The  German  mode  of  thinking  derived  religion  and  right  from  the  same 
source.  The  "Asega"  or  Assayers,  with  taciturn  gravity  and  solemn  deportment 
"scooped"  the  judgment  of  what  was  right— that  is,  dipped  water  from  the  sacred 
spring— so  as  to  "find"  a  just  verdict.  They  were  servants  of  the  "Asen,"  the  gods  of 
welfare.  The  free  and  public  session  of  court  "tagt",  that  is,  always  takes  place  in 
day-time,  and  "vertagt  sich,"  i.  e.,  adjourns  at  sunset,  because  the  right  can  be  found 
by  daylight  only,  since  it  is  the  sun  divine  who  brings  out  the  crime.  And  never  is 
corporeal  punishment  executed  in  the  dark. 

The  Germans  looked  upon  their  rights  as  the  highest  treasure  and  guarded  them 
with  religious  reverence.  The  "witan"  and  "wisdoms"  (Weissthuemer),  as  the  un- 
written codes  of  the  traditionary  rights  of  the  people  were  called,  in  their  plain- 
dealing  tone,  express  a  touching  regardfulness  as  to  what  was  ancestral  custom  or 
"Herkommen",  what  was  "von  Alters  her". 

It  is  a  question,  we  repeat,  whether  such  regard  for  unwritten  laws  is  not  a  sign 
of  higher  morality  than  the  "practice"  of  printed  laws  in  the  modern,  so-called  civil- 
ised world.  The  old-fashioned,  singlehearted  honesty  with  all  its  quaintness  of 
judicial  forms,  was,  to  the  German,  duty  pure  and  simple.  The  right  is  charged  upon 
him  by  virtue  of  an  ideal  necessity.  The  demands  of  the  law  are  of  divine  origin, 
hence  its  administration  must  keep  aloof  from  subjective  arbitrariness.  Every  single 
right  is  a  bonus,  a  gift,  a  privilege ;  it  entitles  man  to  demand  it  as  his  own  posses- 
sion. But  it  implies,  at  the  same  time,  a  God-given  charge  to  be  attended  to,  hence, 
a  right  is  a  high  privilege  under  obligation  of  faithful  discharge  of  duty.  For  these  reasons 
individual  prerogatives  carried  along  with  them  responsibilities  in  greater  or  lesser 
degree,  which  conditioned  the  respectability  of  those  in  service  as  well  of  those  in 
authority.  ■ 

To  insist  upon  personal  liberty  implies  regard  for  the  rights  of  others.  Conflicts 
arise  between  personal  freedom  and  social  duties,  which  call  for  adjustment  in  a 
variety  of  judicial  disquisitions.  This  was  to  be  expected,  especially  in  this  instance 
where  a  state  was  in  the  slow  course  of  its  formation  from  elements  so  difläcult  to 
unite.  Combinations  multiplying,  it  required  more  prudence  to  adjust  them,  espe- 
cially where  the  views  and  interests  clashed  with  those  of  the  Romanised  opponents. 
It  thus  became  obvious  that  the  principles  underlying  the  jurisprudence  of  both  the 
Germanic  and  Romanic  nationalities  were  at  variance;  and  the  dilemmas  became 
aggravated  by  the  circumstance  that  two  modes  of  applying  justice,  one  according  to 
German  rights  and  the  other  according  to  Roman  laws,  came  into  practice  and  demand- 
ed to  be  harmonised. 

Interpretation  of  the  Roman  law  was  mostly  in  the  hands  of  the  clergy,  the 
canonics;  whilst  German  right  relied  upon  the  justice  of  the  common-sense  verdicts 
of  free  civilians,  of  the  "Schoeppen"  or  Alderman,  who  from  time  immemorial,  by 
force  of  "Herkommen",  had  "scooped"  the  right.  Rome  had  the  formulations  of  the 
right  ready  made  in  its  laws  so  as  to  be  applicable  for  any  given  case,  its  ultimate 
end  being  the  state. 

The  German  analysed  the  case  (ur-theilte),  and  according  to  the  merits  thereof 
in  its  totality  spoke  the  verdict;  the  right  to  be  found  together  with  the  duty- 
rested  in  the  person. 

Such  were  the  fundamental  differences  between  German  right  and  Roman  law, 
sufficiently  heterogeneous  in  themselves  to  create  the  severest  conflicts. 

The  gradations  of  ranks  in  the  German  organism  of  society  had  its  natural  devel- 
opment, so  that  even  the  relations  between  suzerainty  and  fealty  were  based  on  the 
concept  of  personal  rights.  The  land  and  its  inhabitants  belonged  to  the  lord  of  the 
manor,  and  his  relations  to  his  tenants  occasioned  rights  and  duties  conditioned  on 
both  sides,  tho  usage  had  provided  for  special  protective  guaranties  as  to  the  rights  of 
the  weaker  parties,  of  the  freeholders  "own  people,"  which  rights  were  always  very 
circumstantially  specified  and  enumerated  in  order  to  secure  a  humane  treatment  for 
the  laboring  class. 


n.  F.  CH.  IL  §  140.  ADJUDICATIONS  UNDER  SIMPLE  CIRCUMSTANCES.  265 

All  drinks,  for  instance,  and  victuals  to  which  the  serf  is  entitled  by  right  whenever  he  is 
on  duty,  that  is,  performs  his  part  of  the  fealty  upon  the  "Hof"  or  "Hufe'",  were  minutely  stipu- 
lated as  to  quantity  and  time,  not  by  contract  but  by  custom.  Harsh  as  such  serfdom  may 
have  been,  its  inhumaneness  has  certainly  been  exaggerated.  The  right  to  move  somewhere 
else  was  always  granted  to  the  "villains"'  or  retainers. 

If  we  look  at  the  life  in  a  village  or  town,  where  the  craftsmen,  artisans  and  traders  lived  Protection  of  handicraft. 
closer  together,  there  was  the  right  of  the  craft  or  guild  to  be  invested  with  legal  authority 
each  according  to  its  own  rules.  Free  trade,  which  can  only  result  from  a  highly  diversified 
industry  in  larger  factories,  there  was  none.  The  purpose  of  the  craft-usages  was  protection 
against  unqualified  or  illegal  competition.  The  rules  of  the  guilds  as  well  as  the  rights  of  the 
serfs  show  many  traits  of  paternal  care,  intended  for  the  amelioration  of  the  poor  man's  lot 
and  for  the  adjustment  of  conflicting  interests.  Only  think  of  the  "right  of  sanctuary"  or  asy- 
lum, granted  to  monasteries  and  to  "burroughs,"  where  criminals  could  take  refuge  against 
lynch  law.    Think  of  the  obligation  of  paying  custom  or  duty,  which  originally  means  nothing  Q^^red  adh  to 

but  ground  rent  in  the  form  of  natural  products.  The  tenth  (or  Zins)  chicken  is  not  to  be  exact-  humane  usages. 
ed  in  case  of  a  woman  "lying  in,"  since  it  is  understood  that  she  needs  the  strengthening  soup. 
During  the  period  of  her  "peculiar  appetites"  she  may  also  go  fishing,  whatever  the  rights  of 
the  lord  or  the  miller  may  be  with  reference  to  the  use  of  the  river. 

In  all  cases  of  "violation  of  rights  the  "Schulze,"  or  village-mayor  presides— the  "Judices"  of  the  peace. 
justice  of  the  peace.    He  is  appointed  by  either  the  judicatory  of  the  district,  or  of  the  ^      "  ^*  '^ 

count's  domain.    He  instantly  attends  to  any  grievance  of  a  person  wronged.    For  the 
deliberations  of  the  "  Witina  Gemot"  legislative  measures  are  stipulated  and  admin-  "under  den  Linden.»- 
istered.    "Under  den  Linden"  in  the  rear  of  the  alderman's  house  he  holds  open  court 
in  proxi  of  the  "Free  Count",  upon  the  "free  chair",  so  that  the  right  be  decided  free 
from  fear  or  favor.    He  scoops  the  right  in  every  case.    From  his  decision  there  need  ^^^  arisen  between 
no  appeal  be  made,  for  his  decision  is  supposed  to  be,  as  a  matter  of  course,  as  it  be-  ^^  „dicauon*^  modem 
hooves  the  case.    The  rights  of  the  peasantry  everywhere  are  fostered  with  such 
benign  earnestness  and  sacred  respect  for  discipline  and  good  order,  with  such  cor- 
diality and  even  good  humor  at  t  mes,  and  they  are  decided  with  such  common 
sense  and  impartial  justice,  and  generally  with  such  public  approval,  that  on  the 
whole  one  may  be  tempted  to  compare  that  instinctive  judiciousness  with  the  intri- 
cate administration  of  justice  in  our  civilised  society  much  to  the  deterioration  of 
the  latter. 

When  feudalism  had  been  fully  established,  the  upholding  of  good  order  and  gen-  country-nobinty  of 
eral  welfare  on  line  with  general  humaneness  through  methods  so  simple  and  cheap,  in^Fr^nc^ups^te^the  ^ 
was  rendered  impossible.    In  these  "romantic"  times  the  cities  and  municipal  fran-  JüS.'"®*^'''^^"* 
chises  soon  absorbed  the  rights  of  the  country  districts.    None  but  the  Celts  had  the 
Tight  of  conducting  civil  suits  at  law  preserved  for  the  clan:  hence  the  preponderance 
of  country  nobility  in  France.    There  the  landed  knights  or  barons  had  no  city  aris- 
tocracy to  contend  with.    When  some  of  these  barons  agreed  to  take  possession  of  the 
glen  of  an  opposite  clan,  and  to  distribute  ground-rents,  fealties,  and  leases  among  sword-iaw. 
themselves,  there  w^as  no  patrician  either  to  curb  their  designs,  or  to  deprive  the  petty 
tyrants  of  their  usurped  judicatory  of  which  they  had  deprived  the  glen. 

No  further  discussion  in  outlining  the  rudiments  of  German  jurisprudence  is  necessary 
for  the  present.  Not  before  other  circumstances,  leading  to  Christian  monarchism,  have 
been  considered,  can  we  inquire  into  the  modifications  of  judicial  principles  as  affecting  the 
functions  of  the  rulers,  even  those  upon  the  principal  thrones  of  Europe. 

The  traditional  judicatories  of  the  country  districts  were  superseded  by  feudal 
Tights.  The  descendants  of  the  noble  men,  the  athelinge  of  old,  made  it  an  honorable 
feat  to  restore  the  squandered  fortunes  by  picking  quarrels  with  others  in  order  to 
seize  their  possession  by  coup  de  main.    Fighting  for  spoils  was  their  sole  occupation. 

Besides  the  secular  we  have  now  the  "spiritual"  lords.  The  laws  of  matrimony  Ecclesiastic  vassalage. 
and  of  inheritances  especially  were  under  the  control  of  the  hierarchy,  and  they  con- 
trived to  get  as  many  legacies  as  possible  for  their  cloisters  and  abbeys.  The  admin- 
istrators of  ecclesiastical  estates,  comprising  fully  one-third  of  Germany,  for  instance, 
stood  equal  in  rank  with  the  most  powerful  vassal  of  the  king.  Secular  and  spiritual 
lords  coveted  the  possession  of  whole  glens  and  counties,  or  they  outrivaled  each  other 
to  be  entrusted  with  the  management  of  a  larger  or  smaller  province  according  to 
rank,  family  connections,  influence,  or  services  rendered.  The  glens  were  divided, 
subdivided  and  dovetailed  again  in  as  many  enclaves  as  the  king  had  dukes,  counts, 
barons,  abbots,  bishops,  «&c.,  for  his  vassals,  which  were  to  be  rewarded  or  to  be  kept 


•freedom  of  the  city."     "CIVILES/'  DAWN  OF  CIVILISATION.       11.  .F  CH.  U.  §  141. 


Free  peasantry  (the 
middle  class)  disappears. 


Vassals  make  their 
fealties  hereditary. 


Trapsition  to 

modern 

mcrnarchi?»». 


Feudal 
anarchism 

occasior'id  changes  in 
th«  functional 
departments  of  state. 

Subversion  of  the  idea 
(  freedom  and  fealty 
Udelity."/ 


'Freedom  of 
titles". 

lef  uge  against  raids  of 
»astern  invaders,  and  in 
Ihe  feuds  of  the 
"nobles." 


Development  of 
city  life 

and  its  effect  upon  royal 
power.     Abolition  of 
feudalisnf. 


A  new  element  entered 
into  the  social  organism; 

Chartered 
municipalities 

after  the  pattern  of 
Roman  municipalities. 


Abolition  of 
feudalism  dates 
from  the  time  of 
the  Mongolian 
invasions. 
§142,145,150,152, 
153, 163. 

Embarrassed  kings 
grant  immunities. 

"Mass"  i.  e.  right  of 
holding  market, 
privileges  of  cathedrals. 

Principal  features  of 

feudal  sociology, 

and  process  of  the 
change.  ' 


of  personal  attachment 
to  the  "Lord  of  the 
Manor''  into  loyalty  to 
the  king. 


in  good  humor.  The  free  peasantry,  the  middle  class,  almost  entirely  disappeared, 
except  in  Westphalia,  Frisia,  Scandinavia  and  Switzerland,  where  freeholders  had 
been  able  to  maintain  their  original  rights.  The  farmer  became  a  "Hintersasse,"  a 
settler  in  arrear  to  the  "Freiherr,"  if  not  his  subject.  The  lord  aspired  to  become  just 
as  powerful  and  immediate  a  member  of  the  national  diet,  or  as  independent  a  peer 
representing  an  estate  in  the  king's  council,  as  his  duke  or  bishop.  The  duke  on  his 
part  let  no  opportunity  escape  which  might  bring  him  nearer  to  his  goal  of  changing 
his  fealty  into  a  hereditary  principality. 

Dukes,  counts,  palatines,  and  margrafen  forgot  that  they  were  nothing  but  administra- 
tors and  servants  of  the  realm.  Being  vassals  of  the  crown  they  claimed  the  right  of  giving 
away  the  crown  to  the  one  of  their  own  number  whom  they  would  elect.  Ambition,  thirst  of 
dominion,  endeavor  to  fix  an  easy,  rich,  and  permanent  existence  for  posterity— these  were 
the  motives  which  set  society  into  a  turmoil  lasting  through  four  centuries.  Everybody  who 
could  wield  a  sword  and  was  knighted,  was  in  some  league  and  on  the  offensive;  every  city 
which  could  afford  a  moat  and  a  strong  wall,  was  in  an  intrigue  or  on  the  defensive. 

In  the  measure  as  administrative  fealty  changed  into  ruling  sovereignty,  so 
feudal  anarchy  brought  about  changes  in  the  military  organisation  of  vassalage  and 
gradually  into  all  legislative  and  administrative  functions. 

Finally  freedom  remained  the  attribute  only  of  the  noblemen,  the  degraded 
descendants  of  the  old  "athelinge."  But  without  a  fief  such  mere  titular  freedom,  into 
which  the  old  ideal  of  manliness  and  freedom  had  become  subverted,  was  rendered 
valueless  as  regards  real  rank  and  military  occupation.  Volunteered  participation  in 
the  fate  of  the  country  in  council  or  in  the  coat  of  arms  had  become  utterly 
invalidated. 

Independence  from .  the  landlords  was  now  maintained  through  the  common 
"freedom  of  the  cities."  It  would  have  been  impossible  to  save  some  self  conscious 
independence,  some  feeling  of  citizenship,  and  of  personal  security  in  the  everlasting 
embroils  of  the  fighting  knights  but  for  the  opportunity  to  take  refuge  behind  the 
moats  and  walls  of  the  cities,  by  becoming  "burghers."  Thus  the  oldfashioned  rela- 
tion of  dutiful  fidelity  between  "Herren  and  Hoerigen"  (lords  and  retainers),  was 
abolished  along  with  the  old  Germanic  duty  of  all  able  men  to  take  to  arms  and 
to  follow  the  banner  into  the  field  of  action. 

§  141.  We  hinted  at  the  circumstance  of  a  new  element  having  entered  German 
life,  alluding  to  the  formation  of  chartered  municipalities,  which  dates  from  the 
German  measures  against  the  invasion  of  the  Eastern  savages,  and  was  in  Germany 
copied  from  the  Romanised  neighbors. 

Whenever  Franconian  Knights  had  founded  new  states,  cities  were  organised  after  the 
pattern  of  the  old  Roman  municipalities  in  Italy,  thus  enjoying  the  same  right  of  self- 
protection  and  selfgovernment  as  the  castles  of  the  princes  around  them  on  the  hill  tops. 
The  cities  utilised  their  opportunities  by  exacting  grants,  exemptions,  and  immunities  from 
the  crowns,  charters  from  the  empires,  in  recompense  for  services  rendered  to  the  king  when 
he  was  embarrassed  by  the  impudence  of  his  secular  or  ecclesiastical  vassals,  if  not  rebels. 

In  Germany  the  people  were  averse  to  crowding  behind  walls,  preferring  a  life  in  free 
air.  When  Henry  the  "townbuilder"  wanted  to  fortify  the  borders  against  the  Hungarian 
invaders,  and  in  order  to  secure  places  of  safety  for  the  country  people  and  their  horses  and 
herds,  he  had  to  coax  them  into  these  strongholds  by  granting  many  franchises.  Otherwise 
the  towns  grew  up  from  the  clusters  of  dwellings  around  the  castles  and  imperial  palatinates, 
where  the  partisans  and  traders  used  to  form  small  colonies.  In  most  cases  they  nestled 
around  the  cathedral,  the  bishop's  church.  For  there  the  best  immunities  were  to  be  secured, 
as  for  instance  the  right  of  marketing.  The  "masses"  were  originally  what  we  would  call 
church  fairs,  one  of  the  Roman  contrivances  to  lift  cash  revenues  for  the  church's  benefit. 

Originally  the  ground  of  townholders  belonged  either  to  the  crown,  to  some  member  of 
the  nobility,  or  to  the  "dead  hand"  of  the  church,  that  is,  to  the  monastic  order  or  to  the  seat 
of  the  bishop.  The  artisan  or  innkeeper  would  build  his  house  upon  the  lord's  ground  and 
pay  a  cheap  ground-rent,  for  which  the  tenant  enjoyed  the  protection  of  the  owner  and  his 
patronage.  Unless  the  owner  defended  his  ground  he  would  certainly  lose  it,  for  under  some 
pretense  the  victor  would  step  into  possession  and  succession  of  rights  as  if  he  had  been  the 
rightful  owner  by  inheritance.  Or  the  town  itself  would  watch  a  chance  to  obtain  the  control 
of  their  own  judicatories,  and  to  drive  out  the  descendant  of  a  margraf  who  would  still  try  to 
play  lordship  over  the  town. 

Thus  the  old  relation  of  attachment  and  fidelity  was  discarded.  But  content- 
ment and  prosperity  reigned  over  the  peaceful  pursuits  of  city  life,  occasional  riots 
notwithstanding.    The  spirit  of  independence  was  regained  in  these  towns,  and  in 


n  F.  Ch.  n.  §  141.         RULE  OF  RIGHT  AND  REASON.— ROMAN  PANDECTS.  267 

lieu  of  fidelity  to  a  lord,  loyalty  to  the  King  was  now  cultivated.  The  burghers  often 
yea,  generally,  were  the  most  reliable  supporters  of  the  emperors  in  their  bit- 
ter strifes  with  domineering  hierarchs  or  obstreperous  vassals.  Then  the  supreme 
ruler  would  give  his  good  cities  new  immunities  and  privileges  until  at  last  the  cities 
were  free  states,  indeed. 

Their  representatives  ranked  with  the  mighty  princes  in  the  national  diets,  and  they  prestige  of  nobility  and 
combined  their  power  in  forming-  a  "Bund,"  that  is,  a  league  or  a  confederacy,  here  and  awL^'^Jn'thefrce'of*' 
there.    In  proportion  as  the  prestige  of  knighthood  dwindled  away  during  the  period  of  the  city-leagues, 
crusades,  until  their  power  was  completely  broken  by  the  Swiss  peasants,  the  cities  grew  in        . 
wealth  and  importance.  Swiss  peasantry. 

These,  then,  are  the  three  steps  toward  consolidation  among  the  German  nations.  Three  epochs  in 
thanks  to  feudalism,  and  in  spite  of  the  perpetual  dissensions.  First  a  rabble  of  inco-  of  G^^ma^il^civ?" 
hesive  tribes,  of  which  the  Romans  counted  half  a  hundred;  then  their  fusion  into  polity  toward 

uniUcation. 

smaller  units  under  popular  leaders;  until  finally  they  felt  themselves  as  one  German 
nation  under  a  duly  elected  bearer  of  the  crown,  in  which  all  ideal  authority  was 
vested. 

We  see  the  emblems  of  this  ideal  unity  in  the  imperial  banners  floating  over  free  imperial  banner« 
and   strong  cities  with  direct  representation  in  the  "Reichstag",  and  with  loyal,  embi^m^üJot  \de"i '"' 
patriotic,  and  intelligent  burghers.  hidependence. 

During  the  transition  the  Pandects,  the  abridged  code  of  Roman  laws,  was  redis"  Effects  of  tiie  recovery 
covered  in  Italy.    The  thought  was  taken  into  consideration,  whether  it  was  not  °^  ^^^  "^^"'^"'^^■^^^  ^^^^ 
more  rational  to  establish  and  maintain  order  by  way  of  council  instead  of  steel. 

The  first  Hohenstauffen  emperor  held  the  first  Council  of  Peace  upon  the  Ron_  Restitution  of 
calian  fields  in  order  to  agree  upon  a  settlement  with  the  obstinate  Italian  cities,  infh^\™itSÄ 
and  for  the  purpose  of  concluding  a  lasting  peace  and  treaty  upon  the  grounds  of  ''°™^**^"*  interests. 
right  and  reason. 

And  sequent  to  the  study  of  the  original  Roman  law  it  was  found,  that  its  appli-  i.  First  arbitration 
cation  would  also  check,  to  a  great  extent,  the  anomalies  of  the  canonic  law,  which  fieids-"councn  X 
so  far  had  predominated  as  it  had  been  promulgated  by  the  hierarchy.    Roman  legis-  right  and  re^on.'  ° 
lation  used  to  frame,  to  fix,  to  make  the  law;  and  the  ecclesiastical  continuation  fol-  Lom?iSs°cfuädby*fhe 
lowed  this  practice,  with  this  single  aim  to  find  the  right,  the  Schoeppe  still  en-  vaXncV^to  Gem^ 
deavoring  to  do  justice  to  the  person  in  whom  the  right  was  inherent  in  the  particu-  ''^^^' 
lar  case.    To  German  intuition  right  existed  as  something  subjective  and  yet  objec-  Comparison 
tive  at  the  same  time.    Everybody  is  born  into  that  grade  of  rights  and  duties  which  and^Germa^^^ 
belong  to  his  rank.    His  individual  rights  belong  to  the  rank  in  which  a  person  is  principles  of 
born.     The  dignity  and  grade  of  freedom  correspond  with  the  duties  implied.     By  crgnitk.1  of  right  into 
birth  man  is    identified  with  both;   privileges  which    are  rights   constituting  a  7nd\h* correT onmn"~ 
"noblesse  oblige";  and  duties,  which  are  honorable  privileges— to  serve  nobly  I  d»ty=  "Nowesse  owi  e " 

The  right  of  the  Roman  rested  on  command.    It  grew  from  and  with  the  unit  of  the 
"Urbs"  and  itsorb,  of  the  city  with  its  annexations— a  growth  quite  contrary  to  what  we  Sf^.esÄrWs''' *^* 
noticed  among  the  Germans.    The  Roman  law  had  been  elaborated  by  deductive  deliberation^  orbisque.' 
and  by  a  series  of  contracts  between  political  parties,  as  agreed  upon  for  reasons  of  state,  ggrman  mind  not 
This  law  was  compact,  practical,  and  well  constructed.  It  was  objective  to  persons  and  things,  sufficiently  sophisticated 
,  abstract  so  as  to  appear   rational,  authoritative  and  strictly  impartial.    According  to  its  fun-   fundamental  difference! 
damental  principle  only  the  state  had  any  rights,  as  if  man  actually  existed  for  its  sake.  These 
principles  through  the  canonical  laws,  had  gained  the  upper  hand  in  Germany,  and  they  were 
at  fault,  if  the  German  could  neither  see  the  justice  of  these  Roman  laws  nor  understand  them 
at  all.    The  peasants  complained  that  "the  right  was  more  tightly  concealed  to  the  doctors  than 
to  the  laymen,  since  none  of  them  can  find  a  key  to  it,  whilst  the  layman  keeps  the  key  within  unpopular.  *^     • 
himself"'.  "The  learned  are  but  hired  servants  after  all.    They  are  not  hereditary  "Schoeffen" 
of  what  is  right.    Yea,  they  are  stepfathers  and  illegitimate  heirs  of  the  right." 

In  this  forcible  complaint  German  conscientiousness  manifests  itself  against  Roman- 
ism. The  German  Schultze  had  the  confidence  of  the  people  by  right;  him  they  judged  to  be 
the  hereditary  servant  of  God, the  only  Lord  of  Judgment. 

But  Latin  had  become  the  language  of  the  courts  in  Church  and  State,  and  of  the  schools.  Ecclesiastics 
and  the  clerics  had  monopolised  the  art  of  writing.    So  Roman  jurisprudence  had  prevailed  monopolised  the 
wherever  judicial  views  had  to  be  compromised ;  Roman  law  soon  mastered  the  situation  in  of  j^^^ic^****^" 
particular  test-cases  setting  aside  old  opinions.      In  such  test-cases  even  princes  lost  their 
right.    True,  many  of  them  had  perpetrated  abuses  of  their  highest  prerogative  of  being  the 
protectors  of  the  people's  rights.    But  on  the  whole  the  injustice  of  kings  was  scarcely  as  fla-  Princes  lost  their 
grant  as  seen  from  the  aspects  of  that  party  in  a  litigation  who  could  not  carry  his  point,  piotectin^ri^hte.^*  **' 
Henceforth  obedience  was  extolled  and  demanded  as  the  fundamental  virtue  of  a  Christian, 
even  at  the  expense  of  pidelity.    The  national  capitularies,  i.  e.,  contracts,  (nowadays  called 
concordats)  between  princes  and  bishops  or  the  curia ;  the  old  wisdom,  i.  e.,  regulations  for 
20 


German 

jurisprudence 

Komanised. 


Prevalence  of  legal 

cog'nitions 

over  judgment  by 
"sentences"  i.  e. 

sentiments 

and  proverbs. 


Consenratism  of  the 
German  agrarians 
adverse  to  "both  rights." 


Consequences  of 
the  victory  of 
Roman 
jurisprudence 

upon  agrarian  interests. 


The  value  of  a  person 
measured  by  his  taxable 
property. 

Estates  were  "allodials" 
remaining  in  lines  of 
"the  house." 

Roman  law  favored 
their  parcellation. 


Alterations  in  "national 
economies," 

since  "canonics,"  the 

ecclesiastical 
functionaries, 
regulated 
marriages  and 
inheritances. 


Saxon  emperors. 

curb  secular  aspirations 
of  the  hierarchy. 


Henry  1,  unwilling  to 
figure  as  a  "King  of  the 
clericals." 


The  reign  of  Otto,  the 
Great,  resembles  that  of 
Carl  the  Great. 

1 125, 137. 


DISGUST  WITH  DUPLEX  MODE  OF  JUDICIAL  ADMINISTRATION.     11.  F.  CH.  II.  §  142. 

deciding  the  measure  of  retribution ;  the  "reflectors  of  right"  as  the  codes  of  the  different 
nationalities  were  called  (as  for  instance  the  Sachsenspiegel  or  Schwabenspiegel)  which  con- 
tained the  sum  and  substance  of  the  old  upper-courts  and  the  "Malsteetten"  or  glen  proceed- 
ings :— all  were  thrown  aside. 

In  the  eyes  of  new  legislators  these  old  "wisdoms"  were  disdained  as  mere  childish 
attempts  at  justice. 

Upon  Germanic  soil,  "  under  den  Linden "  they  had  spoken  in  metaphors,  and 
rhymed  sentences  full  of  sentiment;  they  had  found  verdicts  against  criminals  accord- 
ing to  proverbs.  From  Rome,  mistress  of  the  world  and  teacher  of  discipline, 
right  came  as  a  cognition.  And  cognition  of  right  as  such  means  a  step  forward  in 
progress,  and  will  be  victorious.  Rude  power  of  might  and  sword  could  not  come  up 
to  it.  The  recognition  of  lawfulness  and  legality  was  a  necessity  in  times  of  feudal- 
ism. But  an  agricultural  people  will  always  be  conservative;  and  a  farmer's  conserv- 
atism generally  concurs  with  the  degree  of  reluctance  with  which  the  ground  he 
tills  yields  its  harvest. 

Most  of  the  German  soil  is  heavy,  causing  its  owners  to  become  a  hard  working  people, 
not  likely  to  give  in  to  smooth-tongued  dialecticians.  They  could  not  understand  the  intrica- 
cies of  the  doctors  of  "both  rights"— as  the  Germans  still  say :  "beider  Rechte  '  instead  of  LL.  D. 
—so  they  tried  their  best  to  abide  them  without  going  to  law  and  suing  at  court. 

The  Germanic  peoples— for  circumstances  essentially  similar  to  those  in  the 
"Roman  Empire  of  the  German  nation"  wrought  equal  changes  in  all  the  other  na- 
tions of  Germanic  origin— had  cause  for  disgust  with  a  duplex  judicial  administra- 
tion of  justice,  since  the  Roman  law  revolutionised  all  matters  pertaining  to  agrarian 
pursuits. 

It  is  the  peculiarity  of  Roman  law,  that  it  destroys  the  cognition  of  personality,  by  sub- 
stituting for  it  only  that  which  merely  accidentally  belongs  to  the  person,  namely,  the  value 
of  his  taxable  private  property.  Real  estate  in  the  large  family  tenures  had  been  protected 
by  the  German  rights.  Individually  a  person  is  not  so  much  recognised  as  the  proprietor,  as 
the  family,  and  ultimately  the  State.  The  distribution  of  the  lands  goes  in  lines  of  allodial 
holdings  and  dowries,  of  which  one  spendthrift  shall  not  deprive  the  "house".  Roman  justice, 
starting  with  the  state  as  a  collective  sum  of  possessors,  does  not  care  whether  the  individuals 
are  impoverished  by  a  continual  diminution  of  the  landed  estates,  which  are  thus  permitted 
finally  to  be  swallowed  up  by  land-monopolists. 

As  in  the  case  of  agrarian  "economy"  (in  the  German  sense  of  the  term  for  hus- 
bandry) so  the  peculiar  principle  of  Roman  jurisprudence  created  also  a  new  political 
economy,  which  altered  the  whole  fabric  of  administrative  functions.  At  the  time  of 
which  we  speak  this  change  lay  in  the  future.  For  the  present  the  trouble  was  that 
most  all  of  the  legal  business  was  managed  by  the  economics  with  whom  the  interests 
of  ecclesiastical  government  were  paramount.  For  we  repeat:  canonical  law  regu- 
lated marriages,  and  questions  of  inheritance,  and  governed  the  schools. 

§  142.  The  manipulators  of  the  ecclesiastical  powers  were  cautious  as  yet  in 
their  advances  on  the  line  of  secular  pretensions.  Henry  I.  was  a  Saxon,  freely 
cliosen,— which  of  course  does  not  exclude  the  powerful  influence  of  a  bishop  or  two— 
by  the  two  largest  peoples  of  the  "Holy  Roman  Empire  of  the  German  Nation."  Not 
anointed  by  a  bishop,  he  nevertheless  called  himself  "King  by  tlie  Grace  of  God."  Tho 
not  irreligious,  he  yet  wore  the  crown  without  asking  the  sanction  of  a  hierarch,  be- 
cause he  did  not  want  to  be— according  to  his  manly  motto  which  Giesebrecht  em- 
phasises:—"a  king  of  the  clericals."  This  antagonism  against  the  hierarchy  in  con- 
nection with  the  fact  that  Henry  was  a  member  of  just  that  Saxon  people  who  bore 
an  old  grudge  against  Rome  ever  since  their  forced  conversion,  is  very  descriptive  of 
the  undercurrent  which  once  will  break  forth  with  effects  more  pregnant  with  con- 
sequences than  all  of  Henry's  noble  deeds  combined. 

In  the  grand  line  of  this  Saxon  house  a  strong  family  tree  grew  up  like  an  oak,  sound  to 
the  core,  so  that  this  stock  of  Thuringians  seemed  singled  out  to  become  the  mainstay  of  the 
western  Aryans.  At  the  court  of  Otto  the  Great,  those  scenes  repeated  themselves  which  we 
witnessed  in  Aachen  and  Paderborn.  Again  there  arrived  the  ambassadors  from  Paris  and 
Byzanz,  from  Rome  and  London,  Burgundian  noblemen,  chiefs  of  the  Danes  and  Hungarians, 
even  petitioners  sent  by  the  caliph  of  Cordova. 

upon  this  first  summit  of  real  Germanic  kingship  we  will  rest  and  take  in  the  view. 

At  first  sight  we  will  be  obliged  to  acknowledge  a  providential  interposition.  It 
was  a  powerful  principle  which  we  found  in  Roman  law  and  in  the  Roman  Church, 
this  thought  of  objectivity  as  contrasted  with  German  subjectivism.    The  nations 


II.  F.  CH.  m.  §  143.  DAWN  OF  EUROPEAN  CIVILISATION.  269 

of  northern  Europe  had,  and  have  to  this  day,  to  clear  and  to  regulate  the  ideality,  Jj,'"^^"^^!  'amate 
abstractness,  and  subjectivism  of  their  thoughts  by  formative  principles  of  practical  German 
Eome.    The  German  mind  is  rather  negligent  as  to  the  form  into  which  thought  is  to  ^ith^Roman^* 
be  embodied;  whilst  it  delights  in  soaring  round  about  the  heights  of  sentiment.  This  ^^^fs^^^^JJ^^^isg  143 
aversion  to  the  practical  representation  of  ideas  in  systematic  shape  and  suitable  or-  '  i46i  ise!  i7i! 

ganisms,  associated  with  an  aversion  to  authority  and  discipline,  involves  the  peril  of  German  sentinentautv. 
distraction,  derangement  and  confusion.  This  danger  to  national  existence  could  be  *^^'  ^^'  ^^*'  "^'  Itk 
avoided  and  checked  only  by  adding  to  the  purely  Germanic  culture  the  preservative 
and  formative  external  institutes  of  right  and  religion  from  without.  The  pressure 
from  outside  which  to  the  Germans  was  always  a  necessity,  to  remind  them  that  the 
condition  of  their  national  existence  lay  in  their  organic  unification,  was  supplied 
in  due  time. 

000 

With  f ullfledged  European  feudalism  we  stand  at  the  ominous  year  1000  A.  D.  In  the  situation  of  Europe  at 
East  the  fragments  of  Scythian  material  are  scattered  about  from  the  Danube  to  the  Gobi,  the^ominous  year  a.  D. 
The  thrones  of  Asiatic  despotism  have  been  mastered  by  eunuchs  and  slaves  of  Turkish 
extraction.  Into  the  western  extensions  of  the  eastern  masses— which  were  ever  on  the  alert 
to  overflow  the  northeastern  plains  of  the  present  Germany — Christianity  is  now  slowly 
advancing.  Into  the  woods  of  the  Lithunians,  between  the  lakes  of  the  Prussians,  across  the 
marshes  and  heaths  of  the  Vistula,  Dniepr  and  Theiss,  Christian  culture  moves  forward  to 
meet  the  missionaries  coming'  from  the  south. 

Still  further  south  the  Fatimides  rule  Africa,  and  blockade  the  waters  of  the  Mediterra- 
nean, their  corsairs  ravishing  the  coasts.  The  Normans,  a  German  tribe,  have  gained  a  foot- 
hold upon  Sicily  and  in  Apulia,  wrestle  with  the  sea-robbers,  get  a  kingdom  ready  for 
themselves,  and  fight  their  way  through,  until  they  swarm  about  the  old  empire  of  the 
Sassanides. 

Thus  the  stage  is  arranged  and  the  roles  are  distributed  for  a  new  epoch.  We  see 
the  Aryans  of  the  Occident  seized  by  the  Asiatic  torpidity  which  threatens  to  put 
them  to  sleep  at  the  end  of  the  world,  which  is  supposed  to  draw  near,  as  they  march 
in  processions  to  the  tombs  of  the  pioneers  of  Christian  culture.    But  we  observe  also 
the  rise  of  personages  to  whom  the  leadership  is  assigned  through  the  period  of  trans- 
ition.   Notwithstanding  the  drowsiness  preceding  the  new  awakening,  it  soon  be- 
comes evident  that  the  portion  of  the  human  race  under  discussion  is  of  healthy  stock, 
well  qualified  naturally,  and  swiftly  advancinsr  spiritually  on  the  way  to  Christian 
civilisation;  except  that  the  way  upon  which  this  advance  proceeds  seems  tobe 
roundabout  way.    The  Saxons  are  building  city  walls  to  provide  strong  shelter  for  oc-  ^^^^^^  ^^^^^^  ^^  ^^^^^ 
cidental  thought  and  against  oriental  barbarism;  whilst  at  the  same  time  they  build  *o'«s. 
domes  in  basilican  style,  and  arrange  marriages  with  Byzantine  princesses,  in  line 
with  the  dreams  of  Karl  about  Constantinople. 

CH.  III.    CHURCH  AND  STATE;  EMPEROR  AND  POPE. 

§  143.  Europe  had  sustained  the  polar  strain  incessantly,  but  it  is  only  now  that 
its  effects  are  rendered  conspicuous  enough  to  become  plainly  perceptible.  The 
counteracting  principles  come  to  their  issues.  The  same  antitheses  which  always  had 
caused  the  tension  between  Orient  and  Occident,  begin  to  assume  new  shapes. 

It  becomes  distinctly  recognisable  that  all  the  struggle  throughout  the  Middle-  Mongolians  fumish  the 
Ages  is  but  the  continuance  of  the  heterogeneity  of  the  eastern  and  western  forms  of  ''^^essure  for 
consciousness.    Before  history  passed  into  the  first  cycle  of  the  new  sera  the  extremes  unifying  the 
met  in  the  Roman  basin,  where  the  effects  of  the  polar  tension  were  neutralised  under  ^!'f2?53r55, 127,  i40, 
high  pressure.    As  the  second  circle  extends  before  us,  the  opposite  forces  appear  still     ^^^^  ^^  i^|'  }^' 
more  intrinsically  interlocked  in  their  array  upon  the  European  arena.    From  the  '     '     '  i7i! 

Roman  basin,  the  old  conflict  arises  in  a  new  form,  in  order  to  become  definitely 
disposed  of  by  the  Aryans  of  the  Occident.  The  thought  of  an  ideal  humanism, 
planted  in  the  midst  of  the  nations  at  the  divide  of  times,  must  now  persevere  in  its 
realisation,  and  maintain  itself  against  the  spirit  of  the  most  antique  cultures  ag- 
glutinated to,  and  peddled  out  by,  Semitism. 

The  history  of  the  Germanic  nations  is  the  result  of  two  currents  of  forces  ever 
governing  its  course  of  events:— the  one,  generated  from  the  powerful  and  instinctive 
inclination  to  preserve  those  peculiar  characteristics  of  the  mind,  which  may  be  sub- 
sumed under  respect  for  personal  selfhood,  sentiment  of  honorable  loyalty,  and  con- 
scientious perseverance  in  accomplishing  the  ethical  task;  the  other,  the  weak  side, 


270  GERMANS  MAINTAIN  EQUIPOISE  BETWEEN  CHURCH  AND  STATE.      11.  F.  Ch.  HI.  §  144. 

Mongolians  of  these  ethnical  excellencies  was:  insufficient  cognizance  of  the  necessity  to  work 

transitfoif  to  a      together,  caused  by  a  proneness  to  envy  and  separatism. 

new  sera,  With  equal  instinct  the  German  peoples  felt,  on  the  other  hand,  a  compulsion  to 

150.  combine  into  a  national  brotherhood.  Thanks  to  occasional  family  friction,  immense 
Tho  barred  out  ^  heat  was  developed  and  their  rough  edges  were  smoothed  off  by  grinding  passions, 
orfentaiism  is  They  felt  that  they  did  not  dare  to  swerve  from  the  process  of  unification;  but  they 
encroach^n  ^^^*  ^^^*  vividly,  at  the  same  time,  that  this  process  had  to  proceed  in  a  way  of  natural 

another.  growth  and  under  internal  adjustments.     It  was  repulsive  to  the  national  spirit 

97,100.103,122,123!  that  artificial  means  should  be  applied,  or  a  compromise  should  be  arranged  upon 

137,'  139,'  142,'  1441  ^^^®^  principles,  and  imposed  upon  them  through  the  diplomacy  of  outside  factors. 

i4ff!  148, 149, 150.  Tho  the  Germans  resisted  every  attempt  to  force  a  union,  they  had  ever  since  the 
ow  t'oiar  teLfon^^  tlmo  of  their  great  leaders,  Alaric  and  Theodoric,  hovering  before  them  that  Roman  or 
thTwes";*^^ *****  *"**  Celtic  image  of  a  state  in  resuscitated  splendor,  which  once  had  been  admired  by 
X^nsfcfnyTnteHocked  jthelr  chlcfs  in  imperial  Rome.  Hence,  the  petty  tribal  prejudices  notwithstanding, 
European  ar^nrthaJ!"^  the  Germaus  wcro  never  disinclined  to  submit  to  unification  as  the  demand  of  his- 
cruÄ  ""  *^*  ^'*"'"'  tory,  and  to  establish  again  such  an  exquisite  state  of  their  own.  Both  of  these  in- 
ornna^hJtoTy  towaT^  citcmeuts  werc  to  effect  the  same  end,  namely  the  organisation  of  a  state  resting  in 
unification  selfcomposufe  Upon  the  basis  of  political  unity  and  personal  liberty.     The  same  impulses 

'"*§  97 "m,  uru2™56,  determine  not  only  the  history  of  Germanic  culture  but  control  the  totality  of  oeai' 
1^*'  dental  progressiven  ess.    To  Germanic  history  the  new  efficients  are  virtually  what 
1.'  Feeling  th^ necessity  the  sprlug  Is  to  a  watch,  the  face  of  which  plainly  indicates  the  stage  of  the  inner 
to  "eh'nquish  per^'sonS     movemeut.    The  same  set  of  motives  revealed  its  significance  in  the  phenomena  of 

selfhood;  and  honorable     ,,,.., 

loyalty;  and  unwilling  the  religious  Sphere. 

ujhiTk  the  assigned  jj^^  ^^j.g  raglug  to  aud  fro  all  over  western  Europe  between  Germany  and  Italy, 

or  anÄtol^^iiie^niof  ^^auce  aud  Euglaud,  between  Spaniards  and  Moors,all  those  wars  of  the  crusades,  and 

l^irection  to1te"T^«ce  "^^tween  Romanised  and  Germanic  nations,  between  Welf  and  Waiblingen,  emperors 

blt^unwinlng  to  swerve  '^iid  popes  I— they  all  Originated  from  ethico-religious  misunderstandings.    And  they 

STunPtt*of  lÄn*^  ^^^  ^^^^  *^®  ^^®*  singular  and  conspicuous  trait  of  the  German  temper,  in  that  the 

under  internal      '  Teutonic  seuse  of  cQUity  could  never  tolerate  the  subjection  of  the  state  under  the  church,  and 

adjustments;  ^  *  ' 

and  unwilling  either  to   never  would  forbear  the  dominion  of  the  state  over  the  church. 

compromise  with  alien 

to"diäomX*hu'posTtion  ^^  ^^^  chlefly  for  their  watchfulness  in  these  respects  that  the  Germans  were 
of  external  uniformity,  drlveu  to  polltlcal  separatlous,  whenever  ecclesiastical  problems  demanded  solution 
disTi^thfed^o  ^^  settlement.  Yet  even  in  this  spiritual  condition  and  counterposition  the  German 
of  Msto?  ^^^^^'^  spirit  remained  true  to  itself.  It  produced  so  much  a  richer  variety  and  riper  fulness 
but  contri'ving  to  of  Cultural  life.  It  is  for  reasons  of  just  that  course  which  history  took  with  the 
state  after  their  Crermaulc  nations,  that  they  obtained  the  wealth  and  delicacy  of  their  cognitions,  and 
own  ideal.  that  by  experimenting  with  them,  they  became  the  best  qualified  mediums  for  rend- 

Ld^a  (fermanic*in'ion   crlug  clvilisatlon  the  commou  property  of  humanity  in  general. 
desirable.  g  ^^^    Nevcr  upou  Celtlc  territory  were  religious  questions  treated  with  such 

eSher  church  or  Sincerity,  and  such  profound  and  common  interestedness,  as  among  the  Germans.  It 
state  under  the     is  in  the  nature  of  our  problem  that  we  examine  the  influence  of  German  religiousness 

§  139, 146, 156, 171.  upou  the  history  of  the  Middle-Ages. 
Persisting  upon  Up  to  the  tlmes  of  the  Merovingian  kings  the  Church  had  been  subordinate  to  the 

causer"*'"  "^^"  state.  The  Goths  in  Spain  were  on  their  guard  against  encroachments  of  hierarchal 
nati^ons'whilh^®  predominance.  In  France  it  was  customary  for  the  kings  to  call  the  councils  or 
were  salutary  in  authorise  their  couvocatlous,  and  to  sanction  their  resolutions.  They  legitimised  the 
p^f"  d  '  election  of  bishops,  and  even  appointed  many  of.  them  themselves,  regardless  of 
in^^rest"taken  in  higher  cccleslastical  authorities.  Lay-delegates  occupy  seats  and  vote  in  the  coun- 
Germanic^  **^^  ^i^^»  ^^^  ^^^^  *^®  eplscopal  office  is  entrusted  to  lay-members, 
nations.  But  Under  Pipin  matters  changed.    The  eastern  Franks  have  always  shown  it 

Srupon°thl*""^"  their  chief  object  to  adopt  foreign  practices,  and  thus  adapted  themselves  to  form  a 
Old  forms^lf  Church-  Toughly  coustructed  bridge  over  which  the  pretentious  Roman  culture  in  the  search 
GothsTrirrranks"^        ^^  power  could  march  from  the  western  Franks  directly  into  the  countries  of  the 

Eastern  Franks  formed      GcrmaUS. 

*ncroachnie*nte  u°  on'*  ^"  ***®  occasion  of  Clodwig's  baptism,  when  that  proud  Sigambrian  bowed  his  strong 

German  soil.  ueck  before  Remigius  and,  as  the  first  German  prince,  conceded  to  Romish  authority  at  the 

Clodwig  («ovis-Louis)  Roman  font,  he  pocketed  a  hierarchal  insult;  and  when,  soon  after,  upon  the  ruins  of  the  old 
baptrsm  pocketed  an  Roman  institutions,  in  which  Christianity  had  housed  itself,  a  Frankonian  empire  grew  up, 
*°*"'*  the  plan  of  history  as  to  the  Franks  grew  clear.    The  subjugation  of  Germany  under  Rome 

was  on  the  same  occasion  and  in  principle  a  decided  fact. 


II  F.  CH.  m.  §  144.  CHRISTMAS,  800  A.  D.  271 

The  Church  on  its  part  took  the  new  national  royalty  under  its  protection,  were 
it  only  to  spite  the  Greeks. 

Upon  a  miniature  copy  of  the  mass-canon  in  the  cathedral  of  Metz,  made  in  the  latter  charies  the  Bald,  as 
part  of  the  ninth  century,  there  is  a  picture.    From  some  representation  of  clouds  a  hand  and^illtha  5*'^*"^*"^ 
stretches  forth,  holding  a  crown  as  if  to  put  it  on  the  head  of  the  Frankonian  prince.    He  memorialises  what 
stands  between  two  bishops,  straight  and  ghastly  looking.    Berengar  and  Luithard,  both  MerTrchy.^''"^  °'^*' **** 
priests,  had  painted  Charles  the  Bald  sitting  upon  the  throne,  while  a  blessing  hand  reaches 
down  from  above  (which  latter  picture  is  now  in  the  state  library  of  Munich,  as  an  illustra- 
tion of  the  golden  code  of  St.  Emmeran  of  Ratisbone). 

Germanism  came  to  its  first  bloom  and  found  its  necessary  complement  of  uni- 
fying concomitants  in  the    coronation  of  the  greatest  Frank  on  Christmas,  A.  D. 
800.    In  this  great  event  at  Rome  the  idea  of  "a  State  of  God  to  which  the  exhausted 
world  betakes  itself  as  for  refuge"  was  brought  to  a  semblance  of  realisation.      State  The  Piato- 
and  Church  are  the  two  sides  of  the  Kingdom  of  Heaven,  being  related  in  a  manner  ^o^^ept  Sfthe 
analogous  to  that  in  which  body  and  soul  stand  to  the  other.     Both  are  considered  as  "State  of  God" 
sacred  and  of  mutual  assistance.    What  Karl  with  powerful  shoulders  had  lifted     §  62^ 6'?!  78, 8i,  87, 
up  from  the  quicksands  of  unsettled  conditions  which  dated  from  the  time  of  the   ^^'125  f^  1^-150' 
migrations,  he  now  laid  down  at  the  feet  of  that  grand  old  idol,  the  one  universal  mo-  contrast  of  ow 
narchy — the  same  old  dream  of  the  Saahedrin,  except  that  the  Sanhedrin  wanted  the  Messiah  Pharisaic  and  new 

......  ...»  chiliastic  ideas. 

to  erect  it  in  order  to  cast  down  Rome.  §  100, 200, 213. 

The  romantic  part  of  the  Middle  Ages  begins  with  an  emperor  and  a  pope,  one 
of  whom  wields  the  protecting  sword  whilst  the  other  represents  the  candlestick  of  th?beginn!ng^^^ 
Christendom.    Romantic  Mediaeval  age  closes  with  their  mutual  denunciations;  pope  and  the  close  of 
and  emperor  exchanging  the  epithet  of  antichrist.  In  proportion  as  the  Karolingians     ^    '     ®    ^^^* 
had  become  too  weak  to  support  the  weight  of  the  crown,  the  popes  had  become 
strong  enough  to  transfer  it.    They  entrusted  the  protectorship  of  the  Church— that  is  weak  to  wear  a 
of  their  own  interests  whenever  endangered  by  the  princes  in  the  neighborhood,— to  strong^Sough 
the  good  swords  of  the  German  kings.  to  transfer  it. 

The  German  kings  made  it  their  highest  point  of  honor  to  protect  crucifix  and  brevier  Emperor  took 
with  their  bodies.    Ludwig  wrote  to  emperor  Basilius:  '"We  call  ourselves  emperors  of  the  his  office  as  a 
Homans  because  the  imperial  dignity  is  derived  from  them,  and  because  we  are  charged  to  religious    ^ 
protect  the  Roman  people,  their  city,  and  their  mother,  the  Church."    This  document  was  the  p^p^  ''run 
forwarded  to  Constantinople  by  Luitbrand.  politics." 

This  plaintive  effusion  clearly  expresses  what  was  said  of  the  high  conception  of 
the  Germans  as  to  privilege  and  duty  combined.    But  the  more  the  representatives  of  service  of  the    ' 
this  German  sentiment  acted  accordingly  in  their  reform  of  civil  service,  the  more  did  pi'own 

"^   "^  'in  protecting  the  church, 

the  embodiment  of  the  Roman  will  equip  itself  for  government.  taken  advantage  of  by 

How  Rome  succeeded  in  fastening  this  idea  deep  into  the  Western  Aryans— so  that  even  rulers, 
modern  statesmen  of  predominantly  Protestant  states  treat  the  representative  of  the  Roman 
Church  as  a  sovereign  ruler— we  can  see  in  Guizot's  "Civilisation  of  Europe",  where  the  emp'hlsL'ed'''^'''^^* 
Church  is  conceived  as  the  apparatus  "of  religious  government."    The  highest  colleges  in 
these  United  States  have  inadvertently  promulgated  this  French  view  for  half  a  century.  ^'iSvlstiw.*'*''* 

The  mixture  of  truth  with  the  Plato- Augustine  misconceptions  resulted  from 
virtually  the  same  expectations  as  the  Pharisees  of  old  had  fostered  with  respect  to 
the  Messianic  kingdom.  The  consequences  were  an  Old  Testament  form  given  to  the 
New  Covenant,  and  a  political  agitation  pushing  toward  the  supremacy  of  the  theo- 
cratic thought.  It  is  notorious  how  the  contention  came  to  a  point  in  the  conflict 
about  the  investiture  into  the  episcopal  office  (renewed  as  late  as  1874  in  Prussia).   It  „  t*       f 

meant  "Church  government"  and  "state  service."    Who  knows  of  these  times  will  "sTcreS^orders" 
remember  that  Rome  just  then  was  very  jealous  in  propagating  "orders"  for  the  trmiS'oFpopery 
purpose  of  having  at  disposal  a  standing  army  of  political  agitators  under  guise  of  for  political 
humane  benefactors.    The  strategic  deploy  of  their  lines  determined  the  victory  in  ^^^  *  ^**"' 
advance. 

Under  Henry  V.  it  was  obvious  that  the  great  reformation  of  the  Cluniacensians  had  independence  from 
been  Hildebrand's  skirmishing  maneuvers.    The  king  soon  was  made  to  feel  the  edge  of  St.  1^°™™"  ti^  Saxon. 
Peter's  sword.    The   fervent   devotion  to  the  Church,  adoring  her  as  the  chaste  and  pure 
bride  of  the  Lord,  and  the  deification  of  the  church-government  at  Rome,  had  become  THE 
power. 

At  St.  Rhemi  four  hundred  prelates,  bishops  and  abbots  adjourned  their  session  and  rose 
from  their  seats  with  burning  candles.    These  were  extinguished  in  the  order  the  names  EmperorSy*'v!'°'* 
of  the  excommunicated  were  read.    The  first  of  these  names  was  that  of  the  emperor  of  Saxon 
extraction,  the  son-in-law  of  the  English  king.    He  was  put  under  bans  for  the  third  time, 
tho  he  had  rebelled  against  his  father  to  please  the  pope. 


272 


THE  TWO  SWORDS  OF  CHRISTENDOM. 


n.  F.  Ch.  III.  §  145. 


Laity  led  by  priests 
against  the  princes. 


Offending  kings  caused 
people  to  side  with  the 
pope.Henry  Plantagenet. 


Weak  emperors  and 
powerful  popes 
alternate. 


Counter-popes  A.  D.  1150* 
Counter-emperors. 


Emperor  to  hold  the 
pope's  stirrups. 

§  45,  49,  122,  144,  145, 
149. 


Imperial  power  to 
enforce  obedience  to 
the  pope. 

"Saxenspiegel.'' 
amended. 


Guelphs  acquiesced  in 
papal  pretensions. 


"Princes  deemed  to  be 
servants  to  the 
"Vice-God."  Hauck. 


Vassals  of  the  Roman 
pontiff  by  application 
of  feudal  rights. 


Simultaneous 
rise  of  popery 
and 

Mohammedanism 
§  124,  127,  133, 

Parallels  of 
oriental  and 
occidental 
development 

during  the  cyclical 
period  up  to  A.  D.  1250 
as  emperors  paid  homage 
to  popes,  so  did  sultans 
to  caliphs. 

Another  cyclical 
coincident 

i  62,  76,  124, 127,  133. 

Scene  at  Bagdad: 

reception  of  Togrul 
Beg.  I  144,  149, 172. 

Collision  of 
oriental  and 
occidental 
aspirations  to 
rule  the  world. 
§81,97,147,149, 
150,  185. 


The  reformation  of  the  monkish  orders  began  in  Romanised  countries  which  no\\ 
had  the  benefit  of  the  victory.  Gathering  around  the  popes,— whose  agents  used  tc 
look  after  properly  matching  princesses  with  princes— the  nations  now  entered  thf 
scene,  led  by  priests  against  the  princes,  whenever  they  refused  to  be  used  as  checked 
board  kings.  Thus  the  popes  had  frequently  had  occasion  to  show  how  forgiving  the> 
were,  for  unfortunately  the  princes  gave  offence  and  chances  to  the  pontiffs  only 
too  often. 

Henry  Plantagenet,  for  instance,  made  his  private  chapel  a  nursery  from  which  he 
transplanted  his  creatures  unto  vacant  dioceses,  with  as  much  impudence  and  unconcern  as 
he  would  secularise  the  property  of  a  rich  abbey.  Such  reckless  conduct  was  not,  however, 
the  rule. 

The  "two  swords  of  Christendom"  were  now  made  tlie  badges  emblematic  of  the 
administration  of  ecclesiastical  and  civil  government  respectively.  The  relation  be- 
tween the  two  powers  alternated  in  such  manner,  that  through  the  period  of  the 
Saxon  emperors,  up  to  the  middle  of  the  Xlth  century  the  imperial  power  maintained 
its  superiority. 

After  the  hierarchy,— in  answer  to  the  inauguration  of  a  series  of  counter-popes  by  the 
father  of  Henry  IV— had  set  up  the  first  counter-emperor,  the  imperial  power  gradually  lost 
so  much  of  its  prestige,  that  about  the  time  of  Philip  of  Suabia,  the  Roman  curia  held  full 
sway  over  Christendom  despite  recreant  or  insubordinate  princes.  "The  swords  are  given  to 
the  authorities  upon  earth  for  the  protection  of  Christendom.  To  the  pope  God  has  given  the 
spiritual  sword,  the  worldly  to  the  emperor.  The  pope,  moreover,  is  privileged  to  ride  upon 
a  white  horse  on  certain  occasions,  when  the  emperor  shall  hold  the  stirrups  for  him  that  the 
saddle  may  not  turn". 

This  denotes  that  all  opposition  to  the  pope  may  be  kept  down  by  the  "worldly"  power 
of  the  emperor,  who  by  "worldly"  (we  would  now  say  civil)  right  is  to  enforce  obedience  to 
the  pope. 

This  was  the  prevailing  idea  indoctrinated  into  the  people  and  legalised  by  an  amendment 
to  the  organic  laws  of  the  Saxons,  the  "Saxenspiegel".  It  was  this  unconditional  surrender 
of  royal  right  for  which  the  hierarchy  had  been  striving  methodically,  until  it  was  secured 
when  the  Guelphs  acquiesced  in  the  pope's  pretensions  to  be  the  ruler  of  the  universe  by 
proxy.  The  spiritual  sword  of  moral  protection  and  defense  was  now  surreptitiously  changed 
into  one  of  military  aggressiveness. 

To  quote  Hauck,  it  was  conceded  to  the  pope  "that  the  princes  were  deemed  the  servants 
of  the  '  Vicar  of  God' ".  They  were  to  be  the  instruments  of  exalting  the  Roman  church.  They 
had  to  execute  the  pontificial  mandates  even  in  purely  political  matters,  liable  to  be  punished 
by  the  popes  if  they  would  demur  against  obedience  or  defy  authority". 

Pretensions  of  such  wide  scope  were  smuggled  into  the  Germanic  conceptions  of 
right,  and  became  effective  as  a  matter  of  course  as  soon  as  feudal  rights  were  ap- 
plied to  the  relations  of  the  emperor  to  the  pope.  For  the  pope  was  acknowledged 
as  the  supreme  suzerain  who  distributed  the  countries  as  fiefs  to  the  princes,  his 
vassals.  Whenever  the  pope  saw  fit  to  withdraw  the  fief,  he  only  needed  to  "dispense", 
— release  the  subjects  from  their  oath  of  allegiance. 

§  145.  In  a  previous  chapter  we  found  the  rise  of  Gregory  I  synchronistic  with 
that  of  Muhamed  to  be  a  significant  coincident.  Again  we  cannot  but  find  it  a  very 
portentous  fact,  that  a  new  stage  in  the  development  of  theocratic  aspirations 
appears  in  the  East  simultaneously  with  those  under  discussion:  Seid jukkian  prince» 
paid  homage  to  the  caliphs  just  as  the  emperors  paid  homage  to  the  popes. 

Togrul  Beg,  ruling  over  the  regions  between  the  Yaxartes  and  Euphrates  with  a  high 
hand,  built  a  mosque  in  every  city,  before  he  would  lay  a  foundation  for  his  own  residence. 
When  he  arrived  at  the  caliph's  seat  of  power  at  Bagdad,  the  latter  sat  behind  black  portieres, 
dressed  in  black.  Togrul  kissed  the  ground-floor  and  was  led  by  a  vizier  into  the  interior  of 
the  palace.  Ushered  into  the  presence  of  the  caliph  he  took  his  seat  on  the  throne  prepared 
for  him  opposite  to  that  of  the  caliph.  The  document  was  read  which  created  him  vicar 
of  the  prophet,  and  then  he  was  invested  with  seven  ornates  of  state-regalia.  Balsam  was 
burned,  as  tho  the  incense  could  sanctify  or  disinfect  his  person;  then  he  was  girded 
with  two  swords  and  crowned  with  two  crowns,  signifying  that  the  power  of  the  Orient  and 
the  Occident  was  conferred  upon  him,  antitypical  of  the  procedures  which  transpired  before 
his  contemporary,  Gregory  VII,  the  vicar  of  Christ. 

The  collision  of  the  Togruls  and  Gregorys  in  the  crusades  was  merely  the  contest  for  the 
dominion  over  the  world.  The  offensive  was  skillfully  taken  by  the  Romans,  and  the  battle 
opened  at  the  expense  of  the  Greek  church.  Boemund  of  Antioch  defeated  the  Byzantine 
fleet,  and  then  sneeringly  sent  a  boat,  freighted  with  noses  and  thumbs,  which  had  been  cut 
off  from  captured  Greeks,  to  the  emperor  in  Constantinople. 


II  F.  Ch.  m.  §  145.  RESULTS  OF  THE  CRUSADES.  273 

Inasmuch  as  the  crusades  were  to  some  extent  successfully  utilised  by  the  Roman 
See  or  papal  curia,  they  must  be  accredited  to  the  popes,  altho  for  the  first  impulse  not  instigated,  but 
given  to  the  movement  they  were  not  responsible.    Noblemen  of  all  countries  had  see'^ 
made  pilgrimages  to  the  holy  sepulchre  prior  to  the  Xlth  century;  and  to  the  Nor-  New  «eids  of  adventure 
mans,  after  they  had  secured  firm  holds  upon  France,  England  and  Italy,  new  adven-  NormTn!*^ 
tures  were  a  necessity.    This  is  the  reason  why  they  extended  their  tournaments  to 
the  foot  of  Mount  Carmel.    Their  more  or  less  organised  mass-expeditions  were  set  in 
motion  by  the  enthusiasm  for  deeds  of  valor,  and  this  enthusiasm  was  sanctioned 
and  utilised  by  the  curia,  and  consecrated  to  her  interests.    Traits  of  intense  piety 
and  grand  ideality  are  ostensible  throughout  the  crusades.    The  numerous  trains  of 
people,  according  to  the  refrain  of  a  crusade  song,  "forsook  the  world's  good  for  the 
sake  of  the  holy  blood." 

History  does  not  deprecate  the  pious  motives  of  a  small  fraction  of  the  crusaders,  seinsh  aims  and 
but  neither  will  she  palliate  the  judgment,  that  the  gross  of  them  consisted  of  a  dis-  adventurers. " 
orderly  element  which  was  attracted  to  engage  in  the  strange  adventures  for  the 
wild  enjoyment  of  licentiousness. 

Fondness  for  combat,  animating  the  impoverished  nobles,  had  been  beset  with 
restrictions  at  home.    Feudalism  declining  in  their  native  countries,  they  hailed  the  crusades, 
opportunity  to  go  into  frays  abroad. 

In  the  first  place  they  made  the  regions  of  Greece  their  easy  prey,  and  founded  petty 
principalities  there.  Embarking'  in  Venice  and  Constantinople,  they  made  the  Acropolis  a 
Frankonian  castle,  whilst  the  Venitian  traders  took  possession  of  the  islands  in  the  Levant. 
A  multitude  of  Romanesque  burgs  with  moats  and  portcullis,  with  ramparts  and  portholes 
dotted  the  classic  country,  and  menaced  its  sparse  occupants.  Hellas  and  Peloponnesus  were 
the  bone  of  contention  of  Franconian  barons  and  Norman  pirates.  Princes  of  Naples,  of 
Burgundy  and  Hainault  threw  their  iron  dices  for  the  possessions  of  the  ^gides  and  Proclites 
of  old— all  under  the  pretense  of  doing  honor  to  the  sepulchre.  hTerarcS  pow^r  than 

The  Roman  curia  can  be  made  responsible  for  such  excesses  no  more  than  for  the  many  had  been  calculated 
other  incidents  which  went  against  the  hierarchical  intentions.  "^"" 

The  palpable  success  of  the  crusades,  according  to  Ranke,  was  the  consciousness  ncL^l^tTofTunity** 
gained  by  the  occidental  nations  that  they  had  to  unite  their  forces  against  the  p^^ertwL%"orS. 
Orient.    But  the  issue  of  the  exploits  was  to  manifest  itself  in  quite  a  different  ^^"• 

manner,  in  order  to  realise  the  value  and  permanent  results  which  history  intended 
for  the  enhancement  of  civilisation.    As  another  direct  result  of  the  crusades  the  New  states 
origin  of  new  states  deserves  mention.    The  remains  of  the  old  ducal  kingdoms,  in  organised, 
which  the  king  was  but  the  foremost  commander  of  the  forces  he  was  to  lead  into 
battle,  furnish  foundations  for  well  organised  and  self  governing  principalities;  most 
all  the  smaller  and  many  larger  fiefs  of  Portugal  and  England  secured  independence;  ^^JJ^^^^'prrportionta 
the  orders  of  Knights  Templars  and  of  the  Teutonic  Knights  founded  their  estates  in  the  kings  losing  theirs. 
Prussia  and  Livonia,  upon  Malta,  Rhodes  and  Cyprus;  Greece  was  filled  with  baron-  Militant  orders, 
ages.  §  168, 

Excepting  some  subsequent  effects,  favorable  to  commerce,  there  was  not  much  Except  the  opportunities 
benefit  to  be  drawn  from  the  gigantic  undertakings,  least  of  all  to  the  hierarchy.  widenTng^olthe  ho^rizon 
That  the  range  of  ideas  and  comparisons  became  widened  was  rather  obnoxious  to  commence, 

fV,  a  «11  ri  Q  little  benefit  was  derived 

liUtJ  LUI  Id.  ffo„,  the  gigantic 

The  direct  gain  for  the  church  consisted  in  the  test  of  her  influence  in  directing  the  undertakings 
pugnacious  tendencies  of  the  times,  and  especially  of  the   Normans,  against  the  Direct^resuits  in 
schismatic  East,  and  the  impetuous  and  piratical  Saracens.    Through  the  agencies  of  ^ciesiasticism. 
the  spiritual  militant  orders  the  popes  gained  new  power  over  large  districts  and  satisfaction  of  having 
over  princes.    These  results  the  church  had  realised;  but  others  ensued  which,  tho  East"^* 
invisible  as  yet,  were  destined  to  become  evident  at  remote  dates;  results  upon  which  o4''rSe'drsÄ*oTer 
the  curia  could  lay  no  hold,  because  they  were  kept  in  reserve,  were  taken  care  of,  [hroug^the  ^""*'"' 
and  in  due  time  disposed  of,  by  a  higher  government.  oFdIÜ*"^^  °**^H^i?3* 

Those  really  benefitted  by  the  eastern  expeditions  were  to  be  neither  secular  nor  other  results  as  ye» 
ecclesiastical  princes,  but  the  nations.    The  generation  of  new  forces,  disengaged  oecuit. 
during  the  long  period  of  the  crusades,  was  destined  to  arouse  Asia  in  order  to  enjoin  orientals  returning  the 

X-,  ii        ■.        ■.         ,  .       •  .  ,..,...  visits  in  due  time. 

upon  Europe  the  leadership  in  universal  civilisation.  §  127, 134,  m,  u2, 150, 

So  far  the  peoples  had  been  lulled  into  the  sleep  of  Roman  generalness;  the  idea 
of  the  "Holy  Roman  Empire  of  the  German  Nation"  had  captivated  almost  every  tribe  . 
of  Europe.    But  10  all  of  them  the  governing  few  meant  "the  state,"  and  saints, 
monks  and  priests  meant  "the  church".     Now  the  enchanted  nations  awoke  to  a 
consciousness  of  their  specific  nationalities. 


274 


DAWN  OF  NATIONAL  CONSCIOUSNESS— FREDEEICK  II.         II  F.  CH.  IV.  §  146. 


ITations 

awakening'  from 
ecclesiastical 
generalness : 

new  forces  generated 
which  brought 

national 
selfconsciousness 


Enchanting  spell  of 
Karolingian  polity 
breaking. 


Frederick  II 
discarded  the 
idea  of  the  '^Holy 
Roman  empire" 

and  oriental 
inonarchism.      §  178,  191. 


Advice  of  the  caliph  of 
Cordova,  to  do  what  the 
Mongolian  monarchs 
did  in  Asia.  §  150. 


Duplex  theocracy 
fell  apart. 


Christian  thought  as 
against  Jewish  church- 
state  and  gent'.le 
state-religion  revived. 


Thought  of 

humanltariantsm  took 
the  field. 


Ideas  to  work 
themselves  through 
difaculties. 

§  123,  127,  1?8. 


From  across  the  Channel  voices  were  heard,  as  that  of  John  of  Salisbury,  saying:  "Who 
made  the  Germans  to  dispose  of  the  nations  by  setting  one  head-leader  over  all  of  them  ?  Who 
gave  these  coarse  people  authority  to  act  thus  according  to  their  own  notions  just  as  it  pleases 
them?" 

The  English  in  arms  had  shown  themselves  equal,  at  least,  to  the  Germans;  the 
French,  perhaps,  superior.  The  nations  had  thus  gained  a  proper  degree  of  national 
seifreliance,  which  accrued  to  the  advantage  of  the  princes  also,  and  most  of  all  to  the 
profit  of  the  German  emperor.  Owing  to  his  diplomatic  negotiations  with  the  Sara- 
cens, never  forgiven  him  by  the  popes,  he  had  become  especially  versatile  in  matters 
of  this  kind. 

This  emperor  was  Frederick  11,  the  heir  of  the  great  Hohenstauffen  Frederick 
Barbarossa.  Universal  monarchy  seems  to  have  appeared  to  him  a  notion  of  doubt- 
ful value.  A  glance  upon  the  neighboring  nations  must  have  cautioned  him  to  be 
reluctant  in  following  the  Karolingian  polity.  For,  the  symptoms  of  national 
consciousness  and  municipal  independence  increasing,  growing  civilisation  rapidly 
spreading  over  the  countries  and  differentiating  the  social  organisms  severally,  made 
it  obvious  to  him  that  the  mirage  of  an  occidental  politico-theocratic  monarchy  must 
of  necessity  wane  away. 

When  he  found  that  there  may  be  such  a  thing  as  a  national  form  of  worship  adapted  to 
the  peculiarities  of  a  people,  as  for  instance  in  the  case  of  the  Arabs,  he  began  to  emphasise 
the  value,  dignity  and  characteristics  of  the  various  nations.  He  had  made  the  acquaintance 
of  Islam ;  and  he  pondered  deeply  over  what  the  caliph  of  Cordova  had  intimated  to  his 
ambassador,  John  von  Gorze:  "With  reference  to  one  item  your  lord  the  emperor  betrays  a 
lack  of  wisdom,  in  that  he  does  not  retain  full  power  in  his  own  hands." 

Frederick's  wisdom  did  not  allow  him  to  become  beguiled  by  the  Asiatic  insinua- 
tion. He  was  abreast  with  his  period  of  cultural  transition  toward  the  dawn  of 
humanistic  studies,  of  enlightenment  which  sublimates  power  in  order  to  disengage 
and  liberate  individual  forces.  In  short,  the  two  tallying  halves  of  church  and  state, 
agglutinated  by  all  means  of  cunning  and  power,  fell  completely  apart.  After  Henry 
IV,  the  Thuringian's  feud  with  Gregory  VII,  the  great  conflict  between  emperor  and 
pope  broke  out  again  in  unprecedented  and  most  acrimonious  animosities.  What  the 
Christian  thought  had  been  (as  to  civic  government  or  state-power  which  once  had 
superseded  the  Jewish  church-state  and  pagan  state-religion)  the  centuries  had  oblit- 
erated. Now  the  insignificance  of  the  progress  of  this  thought  under  the  prevalence 
of  repristinated  orientalism  was  criticised.  The  impediments  of  the  Christian  thought 
were  analysed— and  it  revived. 

Thus  the  idea  of  theocracy  and  religious  uniformity  lost  its  enchantment  when 
the  fervor  for  crusading  subsided.  The  energetic  mind  of  the  Occident  took  its  posi- 
tion against  the  ancient  paganism  and  Semitism  which  had  smuggled  itself  into 
the  Church.  Frederick  II  consciously  took  the  initiative  in  the  direction  of  "en- 
lightenment." The  thought  of  humanitarianism  began  to  take  the  field.  The  emancipat- 
ing vehemency  of  freedom  took  hold  of  the  task  assigned  to  the  Aryans,  and  found 
vent  in  that  controversy  which  capped  the  climax  when  the  pope  called  the  emperor 
Anti-Christ,  and  the  emperor,  not  daunted,  returned  the  new  title.  It  should  be  un- 
derstood that,  since  we  are  compelled  to  outline  the  peculiar  characteristics  of  the 
Roman  theocracy  as  such,  it  is  not  intended  to  deprecate  the  blessings  which  Europe 
up  to  that  time  owes  to  it.  Neither  shall  we  ever  forget  those  venerable  persons  who 
worked  inside  those  palings  with  joyful  selfdenial,  men  and  women  so  rich  in  knowl- 
edge and  so  exalted  by  their  piety. 

CH.IV.    CHURCH-STATE   AND   LAMAISM. 

§  146.  Ideas  are  destined  to  work  themselves  through  antitheses  and  over  the  ob- 
stacles of  opposition.  The  thought  of  humanism,  imparted  at  the  middle  of  the 
limes,  had  to  undergo  the  process.  As  the  theme  of  a  mystical  composition  submerges 
in  the  waves  of  modified  variants,  often  seeming  to  disappear  entirely  under  shrill 
discords,  so  the  theme  under  discussion  seemed  to  have  become  lost  during  the  period  of 
the  crusades. 

Nations  in  their  juvenile  exertions  and  aspirations  have  generally  set  at  naught 
with  a  few  powerful  strokes  the  cool  calculations  of  the  diplomats.    Frequently, 


n.  F.  Ch.  rV^  §  146.         EUROPEAN  VIEWS  OF  LIFE  VITIATED  BY  ORIENTALISM,  275 

however,  superior  statesmanship  will  regain  the  mastery,  and  they  will  succumb  Roman  tactics  superior 
after  all.    We  witnessed  how,  at  the  end  of  the  Pre-Christian  sera  one  nation  after  ^tempte'at"^"* 
another,  save  the  German,  fell  victim  to  Roman  skill  in  politics.    And  the  history  of  ^^\l^^'gP*"°°'"i'^'«'»»« 
Rome  after  the  middle  of  the  times  shows  how  every  attempt  at  national  emancipa- 
tion found  its  master  in  the  spiritual  mistress  of  the  world.    Now,  that  certainty  of  ^^^^^  diplomacy 
success,  that  determination,  which,  with  the  hand  at  the  sword's  hilt,  used  to  toss  peace  pj-altfcing  uTow ' 
and  war  out  of  the  folds  of  the  toga;  that  cool  calculation  which  taught  the  Romans  "divide et  impera.» 
to  await  their  chances  for  dividing  in  order  to  dominate,  and  the  circumspection  of 
experienced  politicians,  was  associated  with  inful  and  mitra. 

Karl  the  Great  had  begun  his  career  as  a  German;  as  a  Roman  ruler  he  closed  it.  Maciiiaveiii  conspiring 
In  equal  manner  did  every  German  "raising  of  shields,"  that  is,  every  attempt  at  na-  Kel^ o? Tnother^ 
tional  emancipation  from  Rome,  end  with  a  more  tightened  inveiglement  in  the  hum'an'itarianism.  %  m 
meshes  of  the  Roman  net  spread  through  Europe.    In  the  Romanised  nations  pro- 
pensities ripened  which  Machiavelli  designated  as  ruinous  to  humanity,  and  which 
finally  obtained  the  victory  in  the  absolutism  of  the  courts  and  of  the  curia.    Under 
such  circumstances  the  strength  of  the  Germans  and  their  kings  rapidly  declined.  co^s^llVewot^^* 
The  sentiments  of  magnanimity,  courage,  freedom,  and  dignity  reigning  in  the  castles,  ^e"updedtorr?eanci 
in  the  cities,  and  on  the  farms  were  made  pliable  to  be  subdued  under  Roman  prin-  ^^^^erRome^^"^^^^^'^ 
ciples.  Had  it  not  been  for  the  incessant  moral  coercion  to  agree  to  the  establishment     ^  ^^^'  ^^^'  ^*2.  i«,  ise, 
of  a  consistent  view  of  life  and  a  uniform  world,  this  subordination  of  the  German 
mind  to  Rome  would  not  have  been  possible. 

Let  us  see  how  German  strongmindness  and  world-consciousness  were  remodeled: 

"It  needs  be  represented  to  us  in  full  view,"  says  Waitz,  "that  the  12th  and  13th 
centuries  are  marked  by  the  intermingling  of  legendary  elements  into  history.    Even  Legendary 
*pious  fraud'  pushed  into  historiography."    What  caused  this  phenomenon  just  then?  to^chHstian"^^"^ 

In  times  long  before  the  crusades  we  find  elements  of  oriental  world-conscious-  theology 

"  «  •  corrupted  even 

ness  in  Europe  in  the  form  of  fairy-tales.    They  are  an  heirloom  of  the  Aryans,  historiography,   waitz. 
brought  along  from  the  common  home,  and  held  in  veneration  among  the  Germans  Aryan  folk-lore 
not  less  than  among  the  Hindoos.    A  very  peculiar  form  of  folk-lore  lay  concealed  in  oHenSf  views  of 
their  minds  like  indestructible  seed  deep  in  the  soil  of  the  woods.  life.  §  iso. 

The  queen  of  snakes  with  her  golden  crownlet  speaks  the  same  sentiments  on  the  Rhine  ,n„   ^  ^f 

as  on  the  Ganges.    And  new  legends  were  added.    Indian  stories  and  fables,  carried  through  snakes)  _ 

the  Mongolian  world  eastward  to  Tibet  and  China,  were  spread  just  as  much  through  Persia,  ^-^  ^^^  of  Persia, 
from  whence  the  Arabs  and  Islam   communicated   them  to   Europe.    "With  reference  to  Bknfkt! 

Europe,"  says  Benfey,  "the  Byzantine  empire,  Italy  and  Spain  served  as  ganglion  centers  for 
the  transmission  of  these  conceptions  of  the  world."  He  substantiates  this  import  of  legend- 
ary contributions  by  quotations  from  the  Panshatrantra. 

Other  channels  of  these  influences  opened  through  the  crusades,  in  which  the  marveling,  ,_.         t  h  "i 

juvenile  nations  drew  back  the  curtains  so  as  to  admire  oriental  life,  the  mysteries  of  which  §  125! 

had  ever  hovered  before  their  inquisitive  minds.  The  occidentals  had  been  charmed  by  the 
half  opened  view  ever  since  the  reports  about  the  "Prester  John"  had  traveled  west,  the  v,  ir  h  d 

memory  of  whose  throne  had  attracted  the  first  exploring  expedition  to  the  East,  "deep  into  with  idea  of 

yonder  regions  where  the  barren  tree  stands  before  the  temple  in  Tatary."  jorv' Hildesmm." 

"That  prince  who  succeeds  in  pushing  through  the  lines  of  sentinels  and  through  the 
armies  which  guard  that  distant  temple  of  Prester  John,  so  as  to  hang  up  his  shield  on  the  (Paradise). 

barren  tree,  will  become  lord  over  the  entire  country  of  the  rising  sun." 

So  Johannes  of  Hildesheim  once  put  the  legend  on  record.  "   °     imorg.. 

For  a  long  period  after  the  crusades  it  was  the  belief  in  the  Occident  that  paradise  (Phoenix). 

existed  in  those  regions,  enclosed,  as  people  imagined,  by  a  fiery  wall. 

A  world  of  mysteries  and  of  the  miraculous  opened  itself.  <The  griffin). 

The  bird  of  Simorg  has  its  nest  in  the  northern  part  of  Bactria,  the  land  of  wonders, 
where,  according  to  Ktesias,  Herodot,  and  Strabo  all  the  wondrous  beasts,  the  dragons  and  Eivas). 

the  gold-producing  ants  have  their  home.    Besides  the  bird  Simorg  there  exists  the  bird  .„.  ^     ,, 

Phoenix  in  this  mysterious  Orient,  and  the  pelican,  the  griffin  and  the  sun  bird. 

There,  the  Wigalois  relate,  the  cave  exists  which  glows  from  an  eternal  fire ;  and  in  this  (Wish-bone). 

fire  the  salamanders  weave  that  costly  texture  full  of  lustre,  the  atlas,  the  incombustible 
phellel.    From  thence  come  silk,  satin,  and  damask,  and  the  heavy  brocades,  the  acme  of  lux-  and  made  the  Orient 
ury  in  wearing  apparel.    People  thought  of  the  Orient  as  of  a  magic  castle,  filled  with  treas-  occidentals ;  during  and 
ures  of  every  description.    The  snake  guarding  hidden  treasures,  the  virgins  of  the  swan,  the  ***^L  .        ^ 
sprites  of  the  fogs  in  the  thickets  of  the  mountainous  woods ;  the  goblins  and  the  elves  who 
come  to  help  in  the  cellar  and  in  the  kitchen,  have  their  homes  in  yonder  land ;  Cinderella,  the 
wish-bone,  and  the  wish-tree,  these  are  all  objects  whose  memory  is  revived  by  new  arrivals  countrfes^^of  the Yettin*g 
from  India.  s'^- 


270 


EXTREMES  MEET:  BENARES-ROME. 


n  F.  Ch.  IV.  §  147. 


Buddha  canonised  as" 

St.  Je.iosuaphat. 
Rudolph  uf  Ems.        S  59. 


Phantastic  imagery 
supplants  views  of  real 
life. 


Metamorphoses, 
(a  basis  for 
ecclesiastical  alleged 
miracles). 


Map  of  the  world 
refracts  the  picture  as 
reflected  in  the  monkish 
brains  of  the  13th 
century. 


Chasm  between 
real  life  and 
human  destiny 
reappears. 

§  63, 123, 139, 158. 


Practically  a 
relapse  into 
Hindooism. 


Perhorrescence  of 
mundane  conditions. 


Compacts  with  Satan. 


Indulging  Romantic 
sensualities  in  Platonic 
reality. 

Appropriation  of 
scientific  knowledge 
6ondemned. 


Monastic  life  the  only 
refuge  from  the  perils 
of  worldliness. 


Mischievous 
interpretation  of  Old 
Testament  calls  forth 
not  only 

flight  from  the 
world,  but  also 
flght  with  the 
State. 


It  bears  a  certain  historical  interest  to  investigate  the  importation  and  trace  the  route 
of  Buch  tales  as  those  alluded  to ;  and  to  watch  the  approach  of  a  moonshiny  night  drawing 
near  f rc>m  yonder  eastern  skies. 

Reading  the  legend  of  Alexander  in  occidental  dress,  reading  the  poem  of  Anno,  one  can 
get  a  glimpse  of  the  mystical  sheen  which  illumines  the  magic  night  now  covering  the  coun- 
tries of  the  setting  sun.  Even  Buddha  immigrates,  Rudolph  von  Ems  has  made  him  a  Christ- 
ian Saint  in  his  "Balaam  and  Jehoshaphat".  That  is  to  say:  the  flight  from  real  life  into  a 
world  of  dreams  in  pursuance  of  oriental  ideas  reached  a  terminus  of  extension  unthought 
of  before,  when  it  appeared  in  full  dress  of  occidental  style. 

In  a  dreamy  twilight  of  this  sort  man  does  no  longer  maintain  his  fitness  for  life 
as  it  is.  The  real  world  is  conceived  as  a  poor  abstract,  existing  apart  from  human 
life,  as  if  moving  according  to  different  laws  of  its  own.  In  the  actual  world,  owing 
to  the  nominalistic  and  realistic  controversies,  men  lose  all  their  interest,  and  be- 
come unconcerned  as  to  its  continuity.  Behind  that  phantom  creation  of  the  imagi- 
nation, which  is  believed  to  be  the  real  world  of  wonders  and  metamorphoses,  our 
world  of  actual  ^reality  disappears,  whilst  phantastic  apperceptions  throw  their  dis- 
tracted images  upon  all  relations  of  life  in  every  particular.  Christian  doctrine  of 
those  times  pictures  this  dream-world  as  Heaven,  or— its  opposite.  And  that  fairy- 
land with  the  Christian  name  overshadows  the  views  of  life  so  that  strange  figures 
and  forces  and  miracles  are  imagined  as  playing  into  all  human  affairs  and  taking 
the  place  of  the  present  prosaic  form  of  existence. 

A  map  of  the  world,  painted  by  the  monks  of  Ebsdorf  in  the  beginning  of  the  13th  cen- 
tury, but  recently  discovered,  affords  a  significant  view  into  the  dreamy  mode  of  thinking  to 
which  the  occidentals  had  become  inured  in  that  peculiar  period. 

§  147.  Again,  then,  we  meet  with  the  world-consciousness  of  transcendentalism; 
for  this  is  what  we  have  before  us  in  Romanticism.  It  is  the  reappearance  of  the 
deep  chasm  between  real  life  and  human  destiny,  which  the  Greeks  had  endeavored 
to  bridge.  It  is  the  same  hiatus  between  the  spirit  and  np.ture,  which  defied  the  spec- 
ulation of  the  Hindoos  with  all  their  renunciation  of  the  things  of  this  world,  and 
all  their  shirking  of  the  ethical  task  required  for  living  in  it.  Practically  it  is  the 
eccentric  asceticism  caused  by  the  desire  to  soar  above  the  existence  of  probation, 
which  renders  it  virtuous  to  condemn  nature  instead  of  redeeming  its  depressed  life 
and  transforming  it  into  true  relationship  with  personal  life,  and  leading  it  up  to 
the  common  glorious  destiny.  In  order  to  justify  this  avoidance  of  the  ethical  dutiesr 
the  world  is  denunciated  as  the  abode  of  seducing  powers  exclusively. 

It  is  then  imagined  as  a  spacious  gloomy  castle  with  secret,  subterranean  gangways, 
trap-doors  and  dungeons,  where  countless  uncanny  perils  are  lurking.  Everywhere  snares 
are  concealed  in  which  the  erring  foot  is  caught ;  everywhere  decoying  voices  are  heard  or 
unearthly  shrieks  call  for  redemption  and  delivery  from  the  powers  of  darkness.  The  enjoy- 
ment of  earthly  existence  is  denounced  as  a  compact  with  the  evil  one.  The  impatience  for 
enjoying  heavenly  bliss  preposterously  reaches  out  after  artificial  gratifications  of  Romantic 
sensualities  in  Platonic  reality.  Whatever  decorates  earthly  existence  is  decried  as  Satanic; 
especially  the  appropriation  of  physical  knowledge  and  critical  science,  and  the  aspiration  to 
prosperity  are  condemned,  because  all  of  this  makes  people  too  incredulous  and  independent 
to  suit  the  miracle-mongers.  * 

The  Indo-Romanised  form  of  consciousness  despairs  of  and  denies  the  permea- 
tion of  the  world  with  heavenly  influences;  according  to  Romanticism  the  ideal  of 
humanism  cannot  be  realised  but  by  mystifying  if  not  virtually  annihilating  the 
reality  of  mundane  conditions.  The  true  ideal  of  humanity  remains  transcendental 
and  the  dogma  of  transcendentalism  prescribes  contempt  and  renunciation  of  the 
world,  selftorture  and  mortification  of  the  flesh,  the  terms  world  and  flesh  taken  in  a 
materialistic  instead  of  their  biblical  sense.  This  fleeing  from  the  world  corresponded 
with  seeking  refuge  in  the  church,  under  equal  misapplication  of  the  term: 
Church.  The  monastery  was  the  asylum  paramount.  The  flight  out  of  the  world  by 
vows  of  external  renunciation  was  held  forth  by  the  church  as  the  ideal  of  virtue, 
as  perfect  and  even  superabundant  holiness;  and  a  celestial  world  of  saints  made 
that  degree  of  virtue  glimmer  down  into  earthly  life.  This  sort  of  separation  of  the 
Church  from  the  world  is  strictly  in  accord  with  the  Pharisaeical  interpretation  of  the 
Old  Testament  in  which  the  difference  of  sacred  from  secular  objects  was  of  inten- 
tional necessity,  whilst  now  it  could  get  no  further  than  to  its  last  resort  of  a  deadly 
conflict  with  the  "world",  that  is,  to  an  unmitigated  fight  with  the  state.  This  mode 
of  separation  could  only  run  into  that  antagonism    which  ever  renewed  the 


n  F.  CH.  rV.  §  148.  PLATONIC  COMMUNISM.— JEWISH  LEGALISM.  277  . 

ecclesiastical  attempts  to  dominate  over  the  state,  whereby  the  church  was  rendered  S'a"  woridf/"^  ^"""^ 
worse  than  worldly  indeed.    In  the  demand  of  mortifying  the  bodies  according  to  the  ^^^^^4,^^.  Thestate 
schematised  rules  or  spiritual  "councils",  or  advices  how  to  die  unto  the  "world",  «houid  abandon  iteeu 

*^  ,  to  the  Vicar  of  God. 

the  command  was  included  or  deduced  that  the  state  should  abandon  itself  to  the 
"Vicar  of  God." 

The  faithful  were  instructed  to  seek  the  true  contents  of  life  in  the  "church"  alone.  Now, 
inasmuch  as  by  the  inversion  of  doctrine  the  people  found  their  religious  wants  and  the  regu- 
lations as  to  conduct  with  their  environments  provided  by  the  church,  and  as  the  church- 
meaning  always  the  hierarchy  in  mediaeval  sense— frequently  afforded  protection  to  the  weak 
and  refuge  from  the  tyrannical  arbitrariness  of  the  strong,  there  ensued  a  veritable  emigra-  rjijui-cii  usurped 
tion  from  the  state  into  the  church.    As  the  church  was  then  constituted,  a  state  within  the  all  things 
state,  the  people  found  satisfaction  to  a  certain  degree  in  ecclesiastical  orders  and  ofiBces  and  *J^*^|]^"?'?^^®  *** 
prescriptions;  and    such    allegiance  to  the  institution  being  identified  with   attachment  to  g^onef        ^^ 
Christ,  the  power  of  the  church  became  constantly  extended  and  augmented.    And  in  propor- 
tion to  such  church-extension  the  flight  from  the  world  became  a  fixed  program  of  domineer- 
ing over  the  world.    Church  government  was  esteemed  as  more  authoritative  than  "worldly" 
government,  i.  e.,  the  state.    The  state  was  doomed  to  humiliation,  and  degraded  to  the  class 
of  those  things  to  which  Christians  must  deaden  themselves.    The  state  with  its  ruler  was  tol- 
erated only  so  far  as  it  would  subordinate  its  means  of  execution  to  the  aims  and  interests  of 
the  hierarchical  supremacy. 

In  accord  with  hierarchical  views  not  only  was  matrimony  desecrated,  but  the  Matrimony  degraded. 
whole  order  of  life,  public  and  private,  in  family  and  society,  was  perforated  in  the  The  whole  order  of  nte 
interest  of  priestly  rule,  just  as  the  order  of  nature  was  dissolved  for  the  sake  of  p«^*«'^**«'^ 
ecclesiastical  miracles.  Possession  of  earthly  goods  was  frowned  at  and  decried  as  de-  J^FrSfe^^*  °'  «mitated 
grading  the  possessor  to  a  second  class  Christianity,  if  the  right  of  possession  was  g^^i,.^^gntofthe 
not  waived  in  the  interest  of  the  church.     The  pious  sons  and  daughters  of  the  "mortmain".    , 
church  were  expected  to  donate  at  least  parts  of  their  inheritances  to  the  "mort-main"  piatonism  as 
the  dead  hand  of  the  church:  and  the  orders  proclaimed  the  meritoriousness  of  communis-  gu^dhtsm^™ 
tic  in  preference  to  private  possession.    This  was  nothing  new,  even  in  the  Occident;   ^'^hfh^'lm'ill' 
for  we  have  seen  that  Piatonism  had  introduced  and  promulgated  a  view  of  life  '     '     '  185I 

alien  to  Hellenic  world-consciousness. 

It  was  essentially  from  this  oriental  view  that  the  European  idea  of  communism 
originated.  In  fact  the  whole  fabric  of  the  mediaeval  hierarchal  state  is  directly  re- 
ducible to,  and  in  line  with,  the  Plato-Augustinian  theory. 

The  hierarchy  virtually  contrives  at  indirectly  rendering  the  state  a  Buddhistic-Platonic,  fully  developed  as  to 

1  -.,         .         .  r.,,  .  .    .,  ,  .  .  .        ,  ,  .       ,    views  of  the  world  and 

as  much  as  a  Mosaic,  theocracy.    The  entire  visible  universe  is  conceived  as  a  psedagogical  order  of  life,  in 
institute  in  which  the  head  and  master  has  authority  over  the  pupils  and  minors  in  his  charge  ^"piomat'ic^schemes. 
and  under  his  discipline.    The  philosophers  must  be  without  family  cares  and  worldly  con- 
nection, without  possession.    Such  exactly  is  the  "Church"  with  her  priestcraft  and  monastic  pi^^^id™as*'*' 
caste.    That  view  of  the  world  under  the  aspect  of  formalism,  and  asceticism,  whether  in  §  68. 124, 160. 

Benares  or  in  Rome,  will  produce  the  same  effects:  flight  from  the  "world";  absorption  of 
personality,  of  responsibility,  rights,  and  duties,  and  contempt  of  nature,  the  realm  of  the 
relative  good. 

§148.     Ancient  Hindoo  world-con&ciousness ,  however,  could  not  have  shapecj  Semiticiegaiism 
such  a  cast  of  hierarchical  malformation  in  the  Christian  Occident  without  the  other  contempt^of  ^"*^ 
ingredient  of  Semitic  legalism.    Had  it  not  been  for  this  addition  of  pharisaeical  self-  natural  life, 
conceit  and  statutory  regulation  of  ritualistic  observances,  it  would  not  have  been  wvine  grace 

transformed  into 

possible  to  subvert  the  truth  of  Divine  Grace,  which  moves  and  transforms  life  from  compulsion  by  law. 
within  each  person,  into  a  force  of  law,  which  works  compulsorily  from  the  outside. 

Gregory  of  Nazianz  already  had  preached  to  the  statesmen  of  his  time:    "The  law   of  v,-  tto 

Christ  subordinates  you  to  our  power  and  to  our  jurisdiction.    For  we  also  lord  over  things,  be  rlnke^  sec^d'to 
and  our  diminion  exceeds  yours.    Or  do  you  think  that  the  spirit  should  give  way  to  the  flesh,  ^*''"  qbJoob^of  naziamz. 
and  that  the  heavenly  things  should  rank  behind  the  earthly  ?"    That  early,  then,  an  aspect  of 
Christianity  had  cropped  out  with  the  demand  of  political  subjection,  forgetful  of  the  apos- 
tolic admonition  to  submit  to  the  government  even  of  a  Nero. 

The  biblical  passage :  "compel  them  to  come  in",  was  made  a  criterion  of  the  claim  of  the 
church  upon  the  rights  to  apply  the  compulsory  power  of  the  state.    Augustine  already  had  in"  made  the  criterion 
designated  tolerance  as  cruelty,  a  maxim  enabling  him  to  condemn  the  entire  history  of  the  °^  Jccord^w^th"^'^**** 
Roman  state  as  the  pool  of  sin  and  Satan  and  as  the  house  of  Sardanapal,  in  order  to  put  up  Augustine's  "State  of 
his  own  THEOCRATIC  church-state  in  its  place.  f°'^''  ^^^^^^  ,. 

Upon  the  ruins  of  the  worldly  state,  once  founded  upon  Roman  lawfulness,  Augus-     "  ^'*°°*    auguskne. 
tine  built  up  the  "State  of  God"  filled  with  Mosaic  legclism,  high  above  this  miserable 
world.    Thus  Semitic  fanaticism  had  taken  possession  of  the  church  in  theory.    Not 
much  more  than  what  the  rigid  thought  of  the  church-father  had  projected  was  sub- 
sequently fashioned  into  the  concrete. 


278 

Semitic 
theocracy 
displaces  Roman 
state-machinery. 

Semitic  fanaticism 
introduced. 
"Kingdom''  above  the 
state  rendered  complete. 
On  policy  of  George  VII. 

GlESKBBECUT. 

Development  of 

Augustine's 

"compel  them"  to,  etc. 

Gregory's 

motto : 

'Cursed  be  etc." 

Fault  of  meagre 
success  of 
Christianity 
lodged  with  the 
State. 


state  has  no  authority 
but  that  which  the  pope 
grants  to  it;  is  a 
necessary  evil. 
Thom  .  A<juiNAs  §175, 


Thom.  Aquina  not 
against 

slavery 

which  was 

tolerated  along 
with  the  state 

as  means  of  divine 
punishment. 

Fbohschammkb. 


Revival  of 
monasticism. 


The  importance  of 

Montecasino. 

§  124, 145, 163. 

Pramontre. 

Orders  take  charge  of 
the  management  of 
politics. 

Crushes  against 
heretics. 

Merits  of  the 
Medieeval  church. 


Revived  Semitism 


furnished  the  form 


Hindooism  the  contents 
of  Roman 
eculeslaRticism 
I  78,  81,  97,  146-150,  185. 


STATE  DESIGNED  AS  "WORLD"  TO  BE  FOUGHT— M0NASTEEIE3.        11  F.  CH.  iV.  §  148. 

In  the  Gregorian  period,  the  latter  half  of  the  Xlth  century,  the  legalistic-theocratic 
ideas  are  firmly  put  together  into  a  working  mechanism ;  the  massive  building  of  the  kingdom 
above  the  "world"  is  rendered  complete.  Hildebrandt,  the  Benedictine  monk,  made  the 
entire  church  one  vast  cloister  of  which  he  was  the  absolute  abbot  and  universal  sole  ruler. 
Giesebrecht  has  tersely  expressed  his  observation  of  Gregory's  (VII)  activity :  "He  united 
religious  devoutness  with  worldly  circumspection  and  industrious  management ;  monkish 
contempt  of  the  world  and  an  idealistic  soaring  up  to  spiritual  life  were  associated  with  an  air 
of  imperious  authority  and  with  a  very  practical  application  of  a  tenacious,  wary  statecraft." 

Descriptive  of  Gregory's  character  is  his  frequent  repetition  of  Samuel's  threat:  "Rebel- 
lion (meaning  disobedience)  is  equal  to  iniquity  and  idolatry".  Not  less  frequently  he  used  to 
quote  Jeremiah :    "Cursed  be  he  that  keepeth  back  his  sword  from  blood." 

Thus  the  Old  Testament  theocracy  was  taken  up  for  continuance.  Disobedience  to  Rome 
is  idolatry  and  must  be  punished  as  such.  It  must  be  punished  without  mercy,  for  cursed  is  he 
who  restrains  the  sword  from  blood! 

This  abuse  of  the  sword  of  St.  Peter  may  realise  something  like  the  compulsory 
conformance  to  external  precepts  which  satisfies  Islam,— conversion  never.  The 
world  remains  world  under  Rome  as  much  as  under  Islam.  Since  then,  under  such 
methods,  the  success  of  Christianising  the  world  was  meagre  enough,  an  excuse  had 
to  be  constructed  for  the  failure.  The  easiest  way  in  that  direction  was  to  blame  the 
world  with  being  at  fault.  It  was  not  explicitly  stated  that  the  state  was  Satan's 
dominion,but  the  state  was  harshly  reprimanded  throughout  the  Karlovingian  method 
for  its  carelessness  in  not  extending  the  territory  of  the  church. 

Thomas  Aquinas  taught  that  the  state  was  nothing  but  a  natural  compact.  If  based  upon 
a  sort  of  "contract  social"  the  state  was  of  necessity  deprived  of  all  authority  but  that  con- 
ceded to  it  by  the  popes.  Without  this  concession  its  foundation  must  be  considered  profane, 
to  say  the  least. 

From  this  premise  a  doctrine  of  the  state  was  deduced  which  renders  it  a  social- 
istic organism  without  any  objective  right  to  claim  for  itself  the  character  of  an 
institution  under  orders  from  God.  The  State  of  God  allowed  the  secular  state  no  other 
prerogative  than  the  right  to  make  treaties,  since  in  the  eyes  of  the  hierarchy  the 
"worldly"  state  was  nothing  but  a  necessary  evil. 

"It  was  for  this  reason,"  says  Frohschammer  "that  Thomas  Aquina  could  in  princi- 
ple not  be  against  slavery.  Being  doomed  to  slavery  was,  according  to  God's  decree,  the 
condition  of  a  race  in  the  way  of  punishment".  This  view  seems  to  underlie  the  papal 
method  of  repeated  abandonment  of  people  to  slavery,  when  under  the  ban  of  the 
church.  The  Venetians,  for  instance,  under  papal  permit  were  to  be  made  slaves  by 
any  one  who  had  the  power  to  do  so.  It  was  but  the  consistency  of  pontifical  logic 
when  it  was  held  that  natural  man  deserves  no  better  treatment  if  he  remains  out- 
side the  supernatural  sphere;  and  this  supernatural  sphere  is  under  the  exclusive 
administration  of  the  functionaries  and  orders  of  the  church. 

Montecasino  has  been  called  the  Athens  of  the  Media-val  times.  This  monastery  was 
built  upon  the  spot  where  the  old  temple  of  Apollo  once  stood.  Its  heavy  portals,  cast  by 
order  of  Desiderius  in  Constantinople,  were  opened  to  solemnise  the  entrance  of  Thomas 
Aquinas.  Of  all  the  messengers  and  legates  which  from  thence  were  sent  out  on  diplomatic 
errands  to  negotiate  with  the  worldly  powers,  Thomas  has  become  the  most  renowned.  His 
scholasticism  became,  with  many  innovations,  the  theology  of  Rome.  Asceticism  increased  in 
rigidity  on  the  ascending  scale  from  Montecasino  to  Premontre.  The  polity  of  the  monastic 
hierarchism  advanced  in  its  crusades  against  the  Albingensians  and  Stedingians  under  the 
stimulus  of,  and  on  a  parallel  line  with,  the  inflammatory  fanaticism  of  monkish  fervency, 
utilised  in  completing  the  pontifical  machinery.  In  times  past  the  firm  construction  of  eccle- 
siasticism  was  an  European  necessity,  when  rude  masses  were  to  be  trained  in  discipline,  or 
the  weak  had  to  be  protected  against  the  oppression  of  crowned  persecutors.  Without  the 
hierarchal  bulwarks  it  could  not  have  been  accomplished,  that  the  culture  achieved  by  the  old 
world  was  rescued  to  become  the  natural  vehicle  for  a  new  civilisation.  Again  the  arts  were 
cultivated  and  applied  in  creating  works  of  incomparable  beauty.  But  notwithstanding  these 
merits,  the  hierarchal  structure,  with  its  pinnacles  in  the  city  upon  the  seven  hills  in  form  and 
methods,  is  to  be  designated  as  the  veritable  outgrowth  of  revived  Semitism. 

The  oriental  principles  of  state-theocracy  furnished  the  material  for  the  exter- 
nal unity  and  conformity  (we  may  as  well  term  it  uniformity),  whilst  the  growth  of 
spirituality,  the  religious  contents,  the  edification  of  the  Romantic  structure  was  en- 
tirely under  the  influence  of  the  other  forms  of  oriental  world-consciousness,  under 
transcendentalism  with  its  contempt  of  natural  life.  Thus  Mediaeval  Catholicism  was 
made  up  of  pharisaeical  formalism,  Israelitic  legalism,  and  Ishmaelitic  fanaticism;  of  old  Roman 
energy  animating  a  determined  clergy;  and  of  oriental  apathy  stupefying  the  laity. 


n  F.  CH.  IV.  §  149.   PARALLEL  BETWEEN  POPES  OF  ASIA  AND  EUROPE.  279 

§  149.    Hindoo  world-consciousness  culminated  in  Buddhism.    In  spite  of,  or  Causes  and 
rather  because  of.  teaching  to  disdain  earthly  existence,  this  orientalism  created  an  und?r  thlpope^ 
hierarchal  state  in  Europe  equal  to  that  in  Asia.  as  under  the 

Dalai-Lama: 
Of  the  latter  Prschewalsky  recently  wrote :  "The  influence  of  the  Lama  is  unlimited.    It       (See  §  45,  49, 133, 
is  considered  the  highest  privilege  to  adore  the  priest  and  obtain  his  beuedictioa,  or  at  least  1^«  1^0, 

to  touch  the  hem  of  his  g'arment." 

The  same  deification  of  the  representatives  of  the  religious  institution  by  the 
Mongolian  highlanders  thus  described  was  utilised  among  the  occidental  nations  in 
the  accumulation  of  much  wealth  in  the  "mort-main",  the  "dead  hand". 

The  same  formative  idea  governs  the  Romanised,  the  Slavonian,  and  German  Rominandliongoiian 
nations  of  Europe  and  America,  and  takes  the  same  advantages.      By  promulgating  hierarchism.  §  133,  ii&. 
transcendentalism  and  world-sorrow  the  priests,  in  both  instances  alike,  obtain  their 
predominance,  and  know  how  to  turn  their  prestige  to  account  in  enriching  their  or- 
ganisation and  the  growth  of  its  power. 

The  Buddhism  of  Tibet  with  its  celibacy  and  torture,  with  its  bells  and  incense,  with  scene  in  modern  Tibet 
holy  water  and  rosaries,  confessionals  and  legacies,  amulets  and  pictures,  and  with  its  hun-  ou^pares  well  with 

modern  Home. 

dreds  of  thousands  of  monks  and  nuns,  understands  very  well  how  to  keep  its  adherents  in  the         %  54,  55, 142, 144, 145, 
dull  and  dazed  mood  of  semi-consciousness.    In  the  gloomy  temple,  rendered  more  dusky  by  "^• 

clouds  of  incense,  the  bald-headed  priests  in  abundance  and  in  luxurious  vestments  glide 
noiselessly  over  the  costly  carpets  around  the  altar  upon  which  is  raised  the  shrine  of  the 
goddess.  They  light  the  sacred  candles  upon  the  precious,  high  candlestick  under  the  mur- 
muring of  prayers  and  the  tinkling  of  bells  hanging  around  everywhere.  So  little  does 
Buddhism  differ  from  Romanism  that  even  the  relic- worship  of  Europe  equals  that  of  India,  similitude  does  not  rest 
The  similitude  originates  not  alone  from  Nestorianism  as  referred  to.  Both  Buddhism  and  "?<>»  Nestorianism 
Romanism  result  from  the  same  principles  of  simulated  contempt  of  natural  life  in  order  *  "'^*'  ' 

to  dominate  over  the  world,  that  is,  the  State. 

The  footprint  of  Buddha  upon  Adam's  Peak  in  Ceylon,  and  his   alleged' tooth,  envel- 
oped in  rich  wrappings,  draw  countless  numbers  of  pilgrims.    We  notice  in  Europe  that  the 
saving  power  of  miraculous  places  and  pictures  attracts  the  masses  just  as  much  as  in  India.  S*'?^*J''^™  ^'^*. 
Whenever  in  either  case  the  pilgrimages  increase,  it  is  a  sure  sign  that  extraordinary  meas-  same  principles: 
ures  must  be  resorted  to  in  behalf  of  ecclesiastical  diplomacy.    This  contrivance  at  times  is  affected 
deemed  indispensable.      The  hierarchy  then  generally  succeeds  and  the  Buddhist  especially  naturTl^soher^ 
never  fails.     Arranging  pilgrimages  for  political  ends  are  the  only  means  of  perpetuating,  as  in  order  to 
by  revivals,  the  philosophy  of  despondency  and  suggestion.    The  streams  of  pilgrims  continu-  Ä^'^^'^^t  j  <^.v®^ 
ally  emptying  at  Hlassa  and  Urga  afford  as  many  opportunities  for  the  increase  of  priestly  ^j^g  ^ate  '  **  ^' 
power  in  Asia,  as  the  Catholic  demonstrations  at  Polish  graves,  or  at  the  shrine  of  the  holy       §  78,  81,  87,  95, 97, 
coat  in  Treves,  or  at  the  well-spring  in  Lourdes.  123,  139,  144,  147, 

The  large  cloister  at  Potala  with  its  many  annexes  terminates  in  the  gilt-decked  palace  of  '       ' 

the  Dalai-Lama.    Occasionally  he  appears  upon  the  high  terrace  and  lifts  up  his  arms  to  bless  Ecclesiastical 
the  masses  of  people  who  gather  from  the  passes  and  crevices  of  the  Himalayas  and  the  Kuen-  political "eVect!  °' 
lun.      In  reverential  awe  they  have  been  waiting  for  this  greatest  moment  of  their  lives  in  ,.       (pilgrimages,  etc.) 

,     ,.      .        ,  «  _         .  the  same  in  Potala, 

order  to  go  home  and  die  in  the  assurance  of  perfection.  Thibet  as  in  Poland, 

The  Palatine  hill  where  once  the  rulers  of  the  world  resided,  was  now  a  field  of  ruins-  ^'^®^**'  ^«»»rdes. 
Between  the  huge,  massive  walls  covered  with  ivy,  sickly  olives  tried  to  prevail  in  the  thickets 
of  the  wild  shrubs.  A  few  inner  walls  still  show  elegant  frescoing,  and  blooming  creepers 
have  taken  charge  of  the  outside  portals  and  pillars  for  their  permanent  decoration.  In  the 
quietude  of  this  abandoned  quarter  pasturing  sheep  gave  melancholy  answer  to  each 
other  until,after  sun-set,the  plaintive  sounds  of  the  cicade  would  give  signs  of  life  from  among 
the  sparse,  dry  bunches  of  grass.  The  splendor  of  the  imperial  city  was  gone  forever.  Prom 
among  the  cluster  of  broken  marble  palaces  in  Pallara  the  bell  of  the  small  chapel  of  St. 
Andrew  sent  its  peals  across  the  wilderness  as  over  a  large  grave. 

But  from  this  grave  of  old  Rome  a  new  mistress  of  the  world  arose ;  and  now  the  new  Scene  in  modern  Rome. 
pontifex  maximus  draws  down  upon  their  knees  the  swarms  of  pilgrims  before  him,  when  he  *  ^^' 

raises  his  hands  to  the  nations  of  the  west,  "urbemorbemque." 

We  have  reached  the  summit  upon  which  both  in  the  Orient  and  in  the  Occident 
that  view  of  the  world  tapers  out,  which  we  found  petrified  among  the  Hindoos  and 
the  Mongolians  more  than  a  thousand  years  ago,  and  which  we  find  again  as  arrested 
or  depressed  life  in  the  Middle  Ages.  By  way  of  closing  the  retrospect  of  this  period 
we  add  but  one  more  remark. 

The  thought  of  true  humanity  had  withdrawn  into  sacred  recesses,  away  from  the         .  . 
crowds  of  contending  nations,  away  from  the  turmoil  of  feudalism,  crusades,  confed-  redeeming*  ^ 
eracies,  and  emancipation.    Here  and  there  this  thought  protrudes  again  when  called  Medllevai^chifrch 
forth  by  such  philanthropists  as  the  Saxon  Meister  Eckhart  and,  reappearing,  sub-         meister  eckharm! 
stantiates  itself  in  its  holy  beauty.    It  shines  out  of  the  features  of  Mysticism,  from 
the  works  of  the  profound  thinkers  and  great  masters  of  Corvey  and  Canterbury,  of 
Paris  and  Ratisbon. 


MONGOLIAN  MOVEMENT  FURTHERING  EUROPEAN  PROGRESS.     IL  G.  SYLLABUS. 


Art  frees  itself  from 
Byzantinism.  §  125. 

Cologne  masters . 

Schoengauer 


We  observe  now  in  the  works  of  representative  art  this  thought  to  be  Germanised 
and  the  rigor  of  Byzantinism  overcome  and  abolished. 

In  the  painting's  of  Schcengauer  and  Meister  Stephen  of  Cologne  ,  the  faces  of  praying 
men  and  adoring  angels  appear  in  childlike  naturalness  and  touching  beauty. 

Like  the  flowers  in  the  fore-ground  of  their  pictures  the  painters  of  the  age  of 
transition  themselves  stand  out  like  modest  buds  on  the  banks  of  the  historic  rivu- 
let, full  of  promises  of  a  new  spring  season.  Our  allegorical  rivulet  is  the  thought  of 
true  humanism;  taking  rise  in  the  secluded  and  peaceful  valley  of  Mysticism,  and 
running  through  the  wild  underbrush  of  the  church-polity  in  the  dark  ages. 


G.   SEVENTH  DIVISION.— THE  FIRST  AND  LARGEST 
CIRCLE  OF  NATIONS. 

TURANO-MONGOLIANS. 


Syllabus. 

History  of  civilisation 
needs  the  disquisition 
as  tu 


Mpn^olian 
bearings  upon 
European  » 
progress, 

Mongolian  invasions 
made 


instramental  in  the 

establishment  of 
trans-oceanic  relations 
and  international 
Jnter course,  (as  formerly 
of  city-life  under 
Henry  I.)  and  showing 
the  Germans  necessity 
for  uniting, 
i  140,  141,  142,  143,  145, 
146.  156,  171. 

Turano-Mongolians 
and  Semites 
transmit  Buddhistic 
views,  to  become  an 
ingredient  of  European 
culture. 
174,87,97,181,142,146. 
147,  150,  185. 


SYLLABUS :  THE  AGE  OF  MISSIONS. 

Re-entering  this  widest  sphere  stretching  abroad  along  the  periphery  of  human- 
ity an  explanation  is  required  for  maintaining  our  former  designation  of  the  Mongo- 
lian world  as  the  first  circle  of  nations.  For  it  might  be  objected  that  this  caption 
is  ill  adapted  to  the  topic  under  which  the  history  of  Europe  is  included  and  dis- 
cussed. We  rejoin  that  even  after  the  revival  of  sciences  the  old  background  shines 
distinctly  th^-ough  to  the  extent  of  adumbrating  that  very  world  of  nations  which 
now  stands  in  the  foreground. 

The  period  attracting  attention  virtually  begins  with  the  irritation  of  the 
West  by  the  Mongolian  invasions.  As  soon  as  the  European  nations  come  into  con- 
tact with  Mongolian  elements  after  the  discovery  of  new  continents  and  the  establish- 
ing of  transmarine  routes  for  international  trafiic,  issues  are  joined  and  take  definite 
contour.  When  this  period  closes,  the  prospect  opens  that  those  old  Mongolian  states 
will  be  permanently  drawn  into  the  progressive  movements  which  tend  to  civilise  the 
whole  world. 

Focusing  this  cultural  advance  our  observations  are  directed  to  that  extended 
domain  under  Mongolian  dynasties  which  resembles  vast  fields  of  compact  ice. 

This  domain,  which,  after  the  crusades,  became  affected  by  the  progressive  ten- 
dency, consists  not  of  the  East  alone;  for  the  Occident  is  only  a  large  peninsula  of 
the  Orient. 

Too  much  have  those  relations  been  overlooked  which  secretly  played  between  the  two 
parts  of  the  globe  and  connected  Europe  so  intimately  with  Asia  as  its  mainland.  It  seemed 
as  tho  the  Aryan  culture  of  Europe  should  unawares  be  absorbed  again  by  the  old  culture  of 
the  countries  from  which  the  young  nations  had  detached  themselves.  Buddhism  not  only 
continued  to  be  a  mental  power  but  also  a  compact  organism,  and  an  attractive  center  of 
gravity  exerting  paralysing  influences.  It  was  Buddhism  through  which  a  copiousness  of 
legends  and  fairy-tales  had  been  transmitted  to  the  Chinese.  Turano-Mongolians  in  turn 
sent  these  reflexes  of  an  imaginary  world  to  Europe,  where  they  became  reunited  with  simi- 
lar forms  of  consciousness  at  the  time  the  power  of  Islam  reached  out  over  Byzantine  and 
Cordova  in  order  to  grasp  Europe. 

In  addition  to  these  facts,  which  demand  a  more  comprehensive  retrospect  than 
former  cursory  references,  because  of  which  the  influence  of  Mongolian  culture  was 
undervalued,  we  wish  to  remind  the  reader  that  not  our  disposition  of  the  material, 
but  history  itself  thus  drifts  toward  the  periphery. 

In  this  division  we  endeavor  to  demonstrate  that  the  affairs  of  our  race  cease  to 
be  governed  by  the  narrow  circle  of  the  Mediterranean,  since  the  oceans  are  made  the 
means  of  international  communication.  History  again  draws  into  its  movements 
the  great  Pacific  upon  which  the  ends  of  the  most  pristine  culture  meet  those  of 
modern  civilisation  in  order  to  render  it  universaL 


11  (1.  CH.  I.  §  150.  MEDIUMS  OF  ORIENTAL  INFLUENCES.  281 

CH.  I.    TÜRANO-MONÖOLIAN  BEARINGS  UPON  EUROPEAN  CIVILISATION. 

Passing  from 

§  150.    The  political  construction  of  Europe  dates  from  the  decomposition  of  its  Mediterranean 
southern  part.     Provinces  are  rounding  off  into  independent  states,  whilst  other  dimeStiinsof 
states  crystalise  under  the  formative  principle  .of  nationality.    We  have  observed  the  communication, 
mental  strains  regulating  the  formation  of  the  social  organisms.    We  witnessed  how  Me'dl^'T^'reccies'asticigin 
a  newKoman  dominion,  then  necessary  and  salutary,  bound  the  nations  together  and  i"<'"'*t»i?  national 

'  *  •'  '  ®  units  of  Europe  together 

tutored  their  cultivation.    We  exhibited  the  mediaeval  world-theory  as  the  bond  of 
unification. 

The  first  opportunity  for  an  emancipation  from  this  bondage  was,  at  the  proper  pagan  elements 
time,  occasioned  from  without.    The  Christian  thought  with  its  cardinal  principle  organ? ofttTe'""*"^ 
of  genuine  humanitarianism  had  been  lying  sick  in  bed,  as  it  were,  most  of  the  time,  "'"'^^^'^^"'^^  organism. 
in  the  bed  of  Rome  old  and  new,  weakened  and  dormant,  from  its  contact  and  con- 
test with  the  spirit  of  antiquity.    It  now  arose  to  its  gradual  recovery.    Pagan  ele- 
ments had  encysted  the  systems  of  circulation  and  secretion  in  the  ecclesiastical  body 
which  was  to  be  the  organism  of  the  Christian  spirit.    Whatever  the  encrusting  ele- 
ments were,  either  oriental-Semitic  or  occidental-Roman,  they  were  heathenish. 
Upon  such  grounds  and  into  these  directions  Christendom  had  outwardly  grown.  Graeco-Roman 
Never  had  the  soil  been  properly  prepared,  and  the  plant  had  assumed  much  of  the  structural—  ^ 
nature  of  the  sub-soil  and  of  the  building  rubbish  strewn  over  the  fields  of  ruins.  Buddhistic  the 
The  Roman  element  predominated  in  the  structural  part,  whilst  in  the  functional,—  functional  part 
in  the  movement  of  the  vital  sap  and  the  work  of  assimilation,  that  is,  in  theology  organism 
and  philosophy  always   controlling  historic  progress— the    effects  of  Hellenistic  dlSÄe^newtrl*!* 
thought  remained  ineradicable.    Above  all  stood  Platonism  in  high  esteem,  and  we  Mediums  of 
have  noticed  how  strongly  it  was  infected  with  the  pagan  transcendentalism  of  the  transmitting 
Orient,  until  the  realistic  and  rather  materialistic  scepticism  of  Aristotle  was  inter-  the  Occident, 
mediated  and  inoculated  into  Christian  scholasticism  through  learned  Jews  and   ^^i26aU,'i3i,'i43', 
Arabs.    They  introduced  another  method  of  thinking,  and  contributed  their  pantheis-      ^^'  i^''  i*^'  J^o, 
tic-emanatic  and  fatalistic  modes  of  oriental  thought  toward  the  arrangement  of 
Christian  concepts.    These  ideas  agreed  so  well  with  the  Roman  inclinations  as  to  be 
utilised  in  an  intellectualistic  representation  of  the  "faith",  as  doctrine  was  now 
called. 

The  manner  in  which  the  alien  elements  were  mixed  into  our  religion  is  plainly  Asceticism,  rpiato). 
observable,  for  instance,  in  the  introduction  to  the  writings  of  the  pseudo-Areopagite,  *  ^^*'  ^*^'  ^*^' 

especially  in  his  "Earthly  and  Heavenly  Hierarchy."  Equally  evident  is  the  influ-  and  woridiy  dominion 
ence  which  Alkendi  at  Basora  had  in  this  direction  upon  his  contemporary,  Scotus  ^"^^eg^sT  97**^^2  "^ 
Erigena,  at  the  court  of  Charles  the  Bald.    Most  notorious  is  the  influence  of  Maimo-  i**'.  1*7,  ui  m. 

nides,  the  Jew,  as  exerted  upon  Paris  and  Cologne;  and  not  less  obvious  are  the  bear- 

^         '  Scepticism  and 

ings  of  Salomo  ben  Gabirol,  and  of  Avicebron  with  his  new  Platonism,  upon  the  lit-  inteiiectuaiism,  ^^_  ^ 
erary  circles  of  the  West.   In  short,  we  see  how  from  many  sources  pantheistical     through  Aristotle 
gnosticism  and  oriental  knowledge  of  nature— especially  astrology,   with  which 
Jewish  and  Arabian  disciples  of  Aristotle  always  loved  to  deal— were  transmitted  to,  ^*"*^"'*"'  ^''*' labb^ia. 
and  imbibed  by,  the  Scholasticism  and  Mysticism  of  the  Occident. 

As  in  the  patristic  times  the  ear  of  the  church  had  given  a  hearing  to  Plato,  so  the  JXTe^'^^*'  °*  ai  kendi, 
teachers  of  the  mediaeval  church  adopted  Aristotle  by  way  of  Spanish  Semitism.  ^"T  m! 

To  be  sure,  the  universities  and  the  theologians  in  the  monastic  seminaries  alone  Albertus  Magnus.  §  129. 
engaged  in  the  theories  of  the  antique.    Of  the  mental  activity  of  the  schools  the  p^oi^^biiism 
people  could  not  become  aware ;  it  was  deemed  rather  dangerous  that  the  "laos"  should    §  ^3, 129, 132, 133,  m, 
be  made  acquainted  therewith.    The  laity  was  treated  on  the  mental  diet  of  fairy 

J     _  ,  ,  ,       ,         ,  ,  Greek  humanlstics. 

tales,  legends  and  ghost  stories.  §  127, 137,  u2.  us. 

Man  in  mediaeval  times  was  practically  kept  under  the  norcotic  influence  of  Esoteric  scholarship, 
orientalism.    In  the  first  place  people  were  hypnotised,  figuratively  speaking,  into  the  sorcery.  §  130. 

dream  life  of  Asiatic  asceticism,  which  had  come  in  across  the  Egyptian  desert.  immaculate  conception. 

Then  came  the  revival  of  legendary  tradition  which  disclosed  a  world  of  phan-  8 131, 

tastic  and  dreamy  revery,  whereby  the  belief  in  ecclesiastical  miracles  was  fostered,  phantastic legends, 
the  adoration  of  pictures  and  the  trade  in  relics  stimulated,  and  social  and  family-  ^  '*^ 

life  perforated.  '''^V48;i2ri25.'^27, 150. 


Few  are  the  redeeming  traits  of  mediaeval  piety  as  evinced  in  the  heroism  ani-  isi»  »52. 

;ing  the  chivalrous  orders,  and  in 
childlike  pensiveness  as  express^ 
the  prayers  of  Bernard  of  Clairveaux. 


mating  the  chivalrous  orders,  and  in  the  venerable  features  of  Christian  meditation  into  the  scholasticism  of 

J      t   .,,,.,  .  ,.,,.«    -^.  ,,    ^    ,  •        the  Mediaeval  church. 

and  childlike  pensiveness  as  expressed  in  the  art  of  Fiesole  and  Schoengauer,  or  m 


Two  sets  of 
ethics 

for  two  grades  of 
Romanised  humanity. 

§72. 


ersecution  of  heretics. 

Aggressiveness  of  thie 
Turano-Mongolians 
indirect  cause  of 
brealcing  up  the 
confounded^iews  of 
life 


Fall  of  Athens 

bewailed  by 

Michael  Akomikato 


Foreboding  the 

Fall  of 

Constantinople. 
§137. 


Turcomani  In  sight. 


Early  communications 
with  Mongolia. 

§  52,  53,  65- 


French  monks  at  the 
Mongolian  court. 


Poetical  legends  revive 
the  old  dread  of 
Mongolian  invasions. 
Battmer.  §44,55,60. 


CONDITION  OF  HUMANITY  1400  A.  D.  SIMILAR  TO  400  B.  C.      11.  G.  CH.  I.  §  150. 

The  redeeming  features  of  the  Church  of  those  times  are  scholasticism  and  mys- 
ticism, notwithstanding  their  splitting  the  world  into  a  supernatural  part  of  clerical 
and  monastic  ranks  with  ethics  of  their  own,  and  a  natural  part  of  the  "worldly,"  with 
a  code  of  conduct  deemed  fit  for  the  laity,  made  easy  enough  so  as  to  secure  their  per- 
manent subordination  to  the  ecclesiastical  authorities.  Through  such  differentiation, 
with  the  tribunals  against  heretics,  and  with  the  crusades  against  Katharians  or 
Khazares,  Waldensians  and  Stedingians,  as  the  products  of  the  double  set  of  ethics, 
the  cardinal  principle  of  humanism  had  become  entirely  subverted  and  made  irrecog- 
nisable. 

Then  that  occurrence  happened  to  which  the  onslaught  of  Turano-Mongolians 
had  given  the  first  impulse,  and  which  thus  indirectly  caused  the  breaking  up  of  those 
confounded  views  of  human  life  in  the  castle,  in  the  city,  and  in  the  country  at  large. 

As  bishop  Hildebert  of  Tours  had  once  sat  upon  the  ruins  of  imperial  Rome,  so 
archbishop  Michael  bewailed  the  ultimate  fall  of  Athens  about  the  year  1200  A.  D. 
Among  the  rubbish— all  that  was  left  of  the  Stoa  Poikile— goats  clambered  around 
after  a  morsel  of  verdure  or  a  bunch  of  grass.  Michael  Akominatos  had  concealed  his 
fine  collection  of  classic  literature  in  the  innermost  sanctuary  of  the  Parthenon 
church.  He  could  scarcely  find  words  to  express  his  sorrow  over  the  devastation  of 
the  city  as  compared  with  the  splendor  of  yore:  "The  walls  lying  prostrate,  the  houses 
falling  to  pieces;  across  the  places  where  once  comfort  dwelt  now  the  plow  is  drawn.** 

Then  came  the  turn  for  Byzanz  to  become  devastated  and  enslaved. 

Look  at  the  situation  of  the  once  powerful  dominion  of  old  and  new  (that  is,  of 
Latin  and  Greek)  Rome.  Upon  the  line  Euphrates-Guadalquivir  the  remnant  of  the 
last  of  the  ancient  world-monarchies  arose  like  a  gigantic  mountain  with  two  cones. 
The  contours  of  the  solitary  summits  appear  as  if  blended  with  heaven,while  from  their 
frozen  slopes  glaciers  slide  down;  and  as  the  icy  region  recedes  it  leaves  bare  yonder 
morains  and  fields  of  erratic  boulders  and  fractured  rocks  of  "the  substratum." 

What  once  had  been  West-Roman  territory  is  now  parcelled  out  to  a  medley  of 
Frankonian,  Gothic  and  Norman  principalities  and  bishoprics.  Now  the  East  from 
the  Halys  to  the  Orontes  is  only  enlivened  by  the  masses  of  Scythian  rudeness  strewn 
in  among  the  remnants  of  Greek  culture.  Palaces,  propylsea,  temples,  cupolas  stand 
amidst  wildernesses  of  rubbish,  serving  as  barracks  or  camping  grounds  for  the  nom- 
ades  of  the  steppes.  Upon  the  terraces  of  destroyed  castles,  in  which  kings  had  kept 
house,  stand  now  the  black  felt  tents  of  the  Turcomans.  In  this  condition  we  find  the 
new  world  at  the  dawn  of  enlightenment. 

The  new  world  in  this  condition  reminds  us  of  the  old  relations  once  existing 
between  Orient  and  Occident. 

Ptolemy  and  Ammian  knew  of  the  road  which  led  from  the  Yaxartes  across  the  Musdag 
on  the  Altai  mountains  into  Sera— that  is,northern  China— from  whence  Rome  derived  its  silk. 
A  sparse  communication  between  the  farthest  ends  of  the  historic  world  had  been  opened,tho  a 
regular  commercial  connection  was  impossible  on  account  of  the  desert  regions  of  the  Gobi 
and  the  high  and  sterile  terraces  of  Iran.  St.  Louis  once  more  sent  a  Franciscan  monk  to 
the  court  of  the  Mongolian  emperor,  who  took  his  route  north  around  the  Caspian  Sea  and 
found  the  court  in  camp  in  the  Dsungary.  Subsequently  communications  between  the  nations 
of  uttermost  antiquity  were  again  interrupted  for  centuries. 

In  the  meantime  the  dread  of  the  storms  from  the  East,  especially  among  the  Greeks,had 
been  poetically  embellished  in  the  Occident.  Raumer  directed  our  attention  to  these  symp- 
toms of  the  ethnical  instinct.  Alexander  the  Great  had  exiled  a  tribe  of  the  Jews  into  the 
mountains  of  Mongolia.  Upon  these  heights,  it  was  said,  he  had  fastened  large  trumpets« 
Whenever  the  wind  was  caught  by,  and  went  through,them  they  gave  loud  sounds,  making  the 
captive  Jews  believe  that  the  hosts  of  the  enemy  as  yet  surrounded  them.  But  after  a  while 
owls  built  their  nests  in  the  trumpets  and  the  signals  ceased  to  sound  forth.  Hence  the  cap- 
tives, concluding  that  the  king's  armies  had  been  withdrawn,  made  a  break  for  freedom 
and  stormed  down  upon  Europe.  They  were  the  Mongolians.  Against  the  terrible  invasion 
none  but  the  armies  of  Alexander  could  protect  the  countries  of  the  setting  sun.  This  was 
believed  in  Europe  for  many  centuries.  Now  the  great  Alexander  was  gone,  and  the  Mongo- 
lians came  actually  storming  alpng  through  Tatary. 

For  the  southern  Asiatics  these  Tatars  became  what  the  Germans  had  been  for 
the  south  of  Europe.  In  either  case  the  raids  affected  the  civilised  southerners  in 
such  manner  as  to  alarm  and  stir  them  up,  a  result  rather  beneficial  than  damaging 
to  the  molested  nations.  At  the  period  under  discussion  the  northern  semi-barbarians 
had  to  play  this  role  once  more. 


n.  G.  CH.  I.  §  150.  MONGOLIAN  ATTEMPTS  AT  THE  WORLD'S  EMPIRE.  283 

First  they  inundated  Hindoostan  and  Iran.     By  swift  movements  they  pushed  their  DgengU-Kahn  andBatu- 
swarms  across  Western  Europe.    When  Bokhara  had  been  taken,  the  Dgengis-Khan  entered  ^**?p'"  Southern  Asia 
the  grand  mosque  and  exclaimed  from  the  pulpit:  "The  field  is  mown,  feed  your  horses!"  urope. 

The  Korans  were  thrown  under  the  horses'  hoofs,  and  the  sacred  vessels  of  Islam  were  made  J"«*'«  time. 
their  mangers.    The  city  was  plunged  into  blood.    So  was  Persia  tramped  down  by  the  million  '     '      ''     '  m, 

of  Mongolian  cavalry.  Then  Moscow  fell  like  Bokhara,  into  the  hands  of  Batu-Khan.  Burning 
and  killing,  the  train  of  the  conqueror,  which  covered  thousands  of  square  miles,  came  wal- 
lowing along  through  Poland  up  to  Liegnitz  in  Silesia.  In  this  eastern  part  of  Germany  they 
arrived  at  the  very  instant  that  the  pope  caused  the  heretics  to  be  slain  in  the  countries  of 
the  Saxons  and  in  the  Provence. 

Is  it  not  remarkable  that  the  season  of  blood  for  the  hierarchy  under  Innocent  m  Papal  power  in 
exactly  coincides  with  that  of  the  Mongolian  power?    In  the  person  of  the  Dalai  simuTtemeous 
Lama  the  Grand  Khan  gave  his  countries  a  spiritual  head  whereby  the  immense  investiture  of  the 
empire  came  to  have  its  religious  backbone.    This  Dalai  Lama  in  Hlassa  is  tanta-  Asiatic  pope,  the 
mount  to  what  the  pope  and  Rome  are  for  Europe— representing  the  same  principles     ^  ^*§  133^145, 149. 
under  the  same  forms,  however  largely  the  contents  may  be  at  variance.    For  it  is  to 
be  remembered  that  these  Mongolians  were  no  longer  merely  cruel  conquerors. 

The  "golden  tent"  at  Kiptshak  had  been  stretched,  figuratively  speaking,  over  the  coun-  Empire  of  Dgengis, 
tries  of  the  Hoangho  and  the  Ganges  and  as  far  as  the  Euphrates  and  the  Volga;  hence  the  B'**'^' »»^d Timur.    §  190. 
appellation  of  "the  golden  hord."    In  the  chancelry  at  Karakorum  or  Bokhara  the  imperial  Culture  at  Karakorum, 
edicts  were  given  in  the  seven  chief  languages  of  the  realm,   namely :    Mongolian,  Tibetian,  g^  ^  > 
Tungutian,  Uighurian,  Arabian,  Persian  and  Chinese.    Soon    afterwards   the  missionaries, 
rather  emissaries  of  the  pope  as  well  as  of  the  caliph  of  Bagdad,  and  the  ambassadors  of  Boi^hara, 
Russia,  Persia,  Armenia,  and  France  crowded  the  courts  of  the  Khan,  the  son  of  Batu  at  and  Samarkand. 
Karakorum.    In  Bokhara  the  sciences  received  due  attention,  so  that  thousands  of  students 
sat  at  the  feet  of  great  teachers  at  the  national  academy.    Thither  the  soldiers  were  attracted 
no  less  than  those  of  the  contemporaneous  Thomas  Aquinas  at  Paris.  ^ 

But  this  rapid    advance  of  Mongolian  culture,  notwithstanding  forty  virgins,  richly  Byzantine 
adorned  with  precious  jewels,  were  dispatched  to  the  grave  of  Dgengis  Khan.  During  the  time  of  emperor  sends 
his  death  and  funeral  everybody  was  forbidden  to  shear  sheep;  the  standards  of  the  army  g'lded  daimaticas  and— 
were  thrown  down ;  for  the  dirge  the  drum  was  beaten.    And  to  these  Mongolian  and  Tatar  Samarkand  as 
hordes,  rude  in  spite  of  their  schools  in   Samarkand,  the  Byzantine  emperors  sent  gold-  tribute  to  Timur. 
glittering  dalmaticae  and— their  daughters. 

Forty  camel  loads  of  Byzantine  earth  had  been  demanded  by  Timur,  and  Byzantium 
had  delivered  this  tribute  at  Samarkand.  Nevertheless,  the  mighty  Timur  knocked  hard  at 
the  "high  portals"  of  Byzantium  and  Trapezunt.  At  Ispahan  he  caused  towers  to  be  built 
from  seventy  thousand  human  skulls. 

Finally  the  Mongolians  drove  before  them  a  fugitive  tribe  of  rebellious  Turks,  suiaiman,  leading  a 
Sulaiman  was  persecuted  from  Khorassan  into  Armenia,and  the  grandson  of  Suiaiman  ^  ww  *"^**"'*  '^'"^' 
now   sent   the   Byzantine  warriors  behind  their  walls.    His  great  successor  com- 
pleted the  conquest.    Constantinople  fell. 

With  the  overthrow  of  this  East-Roman  empire  the  formation  of  Europe  and  the  Constantinople 
condition  of  the  whole  world  underwent  a  decisive  change.    We  may  ponder  a  little  surrenders, 
over  the  import  of  this  catastrophe.  S^ienteilsmÄari' 

To  Constantinople  has  been  attributed  the  significance  of  being  the  museum  and  Ä,  n"ow^th"brMgeof 
bridge  of  Hellenic  culture.  We  remember  how  Byzantium  since  Karl  and  the  Othons  fuilfp'^jaYn  toe. 
had  actually  served  as  the  main  conductor  of  Orientalism  into  Europe.  ^  '^"  '^^'  ^^^'  '*^'  ^^* 

At  first  Greek  thoughts  had  been  carried  from  the  libraries  of  Constantinople  to 
Bagdad,  from  whence  the  Semites  transmitted  the  translations  of  newly  discovered 
writings  to  the  Occident  by  way  of  Saracenic  Spain.  Byzantium  possessed  the  advan- 
tage of  being  guardian  and  custodian  of  classic  culture  of  which  a  mere  shadow  only  fn^rmiduted  formerly 
reached  the  West  in  round  about  way  to  amuse  and  enthuse  the  people  with  the  legend-  cordovathrough*^  ""^ 
ary  stories  of  the  Trojan  war,  and  those  of  Alexander  as  given  by  Callisthenes.    The  ^^™'*^'' 
monumental  remnants  of  Hellenism  had  found  refuge  inside  the  city  walls,  and  the  liter- 
ary fragments  had  been  collected  in  the  church  archives  and  schools.  It  occurred  now 
that  these  old,  unappreciated  treasures  were  directly  transferred  to  Italy  in  order  to  ^^^  directly  brought 
stimulate  the  Orient  for  its  task  of  opening  a  new  sera— by  the  fugitives  of  1453.  ^^\^^i "y  **»« fugitives 

It  had  been  the  task  of  Byzantium  to  lead  the  Scythian  and  Slavonian  parts  of 
Europe  into  the  by-ways  of  some  sort  of  Christian  culture;  Byzantium  alone  was  able 
to  urge  on  the  Bulgarians  and  Serbians  to  form  states;  and  only  through  Byzantium 
were  the  Norman  Waraegians,  and  subsequently  the  people  of  the  Russian  empire, 
enabled  to  partake  of  the  rudimentaries  of  culture. 

21 


284 


ST.  ANDREW'S  HEAD— FROM  BYZANZ  TO  ROME. 


II  G.  CH.  L  §  151. 


The  task  of 
Byzantium 
transferred  to 
Russia.    §138,1 


Cesaro-papal  power  in 
the  East. 

Papa-cesarism  in  the 
West. 

Political  problem  : 

"Eastern 

question." 


Idiotic  sycophancy. 

§  71,  125,  120, 127. 


The  funeral-eulogy  of 
Byzantinisni. 


The  alleged  head  of 
St.  Andrew  delivered  to 
the  successor  of  his 
brother. 

GSEOOROVIUS 


Relic-worship, 

§  35,  54,  55, 124,  125, 
127,  150,  252. 


Italy  prepared  to 
receive  the  more 
valuable  bequest,  the 
humanistic  thoughts  of 
classic  Hellas. 


Cities  had  cultivated  a 
spirit  of  resistance, 
selfreliance, 
»elf  government. 


Citizens  took  interest  in 
politics, 


in  th« 

arrival  of 
fugitives,  and 
"revival  of 
letters." 

The  Florentine  Cosimo 
Medici  patron  of 
Oeorgius  Gemisthos  hihI 
of  the  study  of 

"Humanistics.' 


When  Byzantium  had  achieved  the  fulfillment  of  these  appointments,  this  Eastern 
imitation  of  Rome  had  to  sustain  the  fate  of  its  original.  The  hand  from  on  high 
disposed  of  the  residue  of  Hellenism  by  striking  down  East-Rome  at  the  proper 
moment. 

In  that  Christianised  continuation  of  Hellas,  the  Greek  state-church,  worldy  power 
had  been  rendered  hieratic  and  theological,  if  we  do  not  want  to  say  that  it  had  become 
a  spiritual  power;  whilst  in  West-Rome  the  spiritual  power  had  usurped  the  civil  govern- 
ment. Then  the  Greek  part  of  Christendom  went  to  the  cloister,  the  asylum  for 
enervated  nations. 

The  eastern  church,  always  nourished  by  the  controversies  of  court  theologians,  had 
engaged  the  thought  and  whim  of  the  nation  with  the  national  dogma  of  the  sending  of  the 
Holy  Ghost  by  the  Father  alone.  This  dogma  was  made  the  political  problem,  beside  which 
the  usurpations  of  the  throne  and  the  palace-revolutions  seemed  insignificant.  The  fate  of 
the  dominion,  diminishing  to  a  mere  district,  was  given  into  the  hands  of  the  monks.  The 
patriarchal  dioceses  of  Antioch,  Jerusalem,  and  Alexandria  had  been  abolished  long  since 
and  had  been  turned  into  a  sinecure  for  the  court-confessor  in  the  imperial  metropolis ;  there 
those  emperors  sat  enthroned  who  on  account  of  the  prestige  of  their  orthodoxy  posed  in 
unparalleled  idiotic  superciliousness,  withal  their  political  insignificance. 

When  Luitbrand  was  German  ambassador  in  Constantinople,  he  saw  emperor 
Nicephorus  enter  St.  Sophia.  Instantly  the  choir  intonated  the  anthem :  "Behold  the  morning 
star  is  risen.  He  comes  to  darken  the  sun  by  his  splendor ;  the  deadly  terror  of  the  Saracens 
appears:  Nicephorus,  the  ruler !  " 

§  151.    Byzantium  had  become  Turkish. 

One  of  the  princes  of  the  dethroned  dynasty,  Thomas,  the  brother  of  the  last  Con- 
stantine,  escaped  from  Morea  over  Corfu  into  Italy.  He  brought  with  him  a  precious 
relic  which  he  had  rescued—the  head  of  the  Apostle  Andrew. 

In  solemn  procession  the  pope  went  out  to  meet  the  relic  and  to  take  charge  of  it. 
These  are  the  words  in  which  the  head  was  addressed:  "Thus  you  arrive  at  last, 
0,  most  holy  and  sweet  flavoring  apostolic  head.  Driven  from  your  abode  by  Turkish 
rage,  you  come  to  your  brother;  as  an  exile  you  take  refuge  with  the  prince  of  the 
apostles"! 

This  alleged  head  of  Andrew,  transferred  to  his  brother  Peter  in  Rome,  Gregoro- 
vius  took  as  the  symbol  of  the  empire  of  Constantino  and  Justinian,  except  that  the 
defunct  empire  left  a  still  more  valuable  bequest  to  Italy  and  the  Occident. 

To  receive  and  to  utilise  this  inheritance,  which  Incited  the  students  to  study — 
the  "humanistics",  Italy  was  prepared  best  of  all  the  western  countries,  on  account  of 
the  high  development  of  its  municipal  communities  and  its  city  life.  During  the 
conflict  between  Hohenstauffen  emperors  and  popes,  the  citizens  had  attained  to  a 
liigh  degree  of  freedom  and  selfreliance. 

Owing  to  the  Normans,  moreover,  a  variety  of  new  political  formations  had  taken  shape. 
Novel  organisations  in  society  were  the  natural  results  of  the  resistance  which  the  cities  had 
to  offer,  now  to  the  emperor,  now  to  the  pope,  and  then  again  to  the  Saracens.  The  authority 
of  a  form  of  government  similar  to  that  of  the  tyrannies  of  Greece,  was  obliged  to  rely  upon 
not  only  a  money,  but  also  a  genuine  aristocracy  of  intelligence  and  virtue.  With  that  the 
vacancy  caused  by  the  disappearance  of  customary  or  feudal  legitimacy  was  more  than 
retrieved. 

It  is  but  accessary  to  a  process  of  supplanting  abolished  authorities,  that  now  and  then  a 
despotism  of  military  leaders  will  ensue.  Here  and  there  an  autocrat  would  make  himself 
prince  by  a  single  coup  de  main,  as  Bernabo  Viscont  did,  who  made  the  subjected  people  feed 
his  five  thousand  hounds.    Such  despotism  knows  no  other  means  to  rule,  but  fear  and  force. 

Abuse  of  power  as  well  as  the  power  of  "constructive"  rule  taught  people  to  apply 
free  criticism  in  the  first  place.  For  despotism  creates  a  vivid  personal  interest  in 
politics  and  calls  forth  general  discussion  of  state  affairs.  Much  was  thus  gained  for 
the  cause  of  human  personality  and  freedom.  "Constructive"  princes  gave  positions 
to  learned  men,  took  poets  into  their  houses,  paid  them  salaries  and  created  centers 
of  enlightenment,  education,  and  civilisation. 

Venice  and  Perrara  had  opened  correspondence  with  learned  Greeks  long  before  the  fall 
of  Constantinople.  Georgius  Gemisthos  had  then  already  come  over  from  Byzantium  and 
settled  in  Florence,  Nobody  could  resist  the  amicable  manner  of  that  young  and  fervent 
rhetorician,  who  cared  more  for  Plato  than  for  dogmatics;  least  of  all  could  Cosimo  Medici, 
who  founded  for  him  the  Platonic  Academy.  The  old  Aristotelian  scholastics,  led  by  George 
of  Trapezunt,  did  not  give  up  the  field  without  a  struggle,  but  Gemisthos  and  Platonism  came 
out  triumphant. 


n  G.  Ch.  I.  §  152.  STUDY  OF  HUMANISTICS.     "BENAISSANCE".  285 

Petrarca   himself,   inspired   by  the  products  of  Greek  and  Latin  poets,  had  Petrarca, 
previously  insisted  upon  the  fresh  and  free  activity  of  poetic  circles;  for  the  great  "Renaissance." 
catastrophe  had  cast  its  shadows  long  before  its  occurrence,  and  had  occasioned  a  ^ämfa"ised  by 
revival  of  search  and  thought  before  the  exiles  came  over  from  Byzantium.    After  its  libertinism, 
fall  a  multitude  of  Greek  scholars  took  refuge  in  Italy  and  brought  many  literary 
treasures  and  works  of  art  with  them,  more  than  had  been  seen  before.    A  craze  for 
the  classic  antique  was  awakened;  never  had  the  meaning  of  ancient  wisdom  and  art 
been  better  understood  and  appreciated.    A  great  number  of  connoiseurs  of  art,  and 
collectors  of  antiquities  sprang  up,  who  by  their  praises  in  verse  and  prose  stimu- 
lated the  studies  of  the  "humanistics."    Poets  with  idealistic  ambition  stepped  forth 
in  search  of  notoriety  and  preeminence. 

It  is  to  be  expected  that  the  majority  of  poets  were  but  poor  plagiarists,  who  sang:  the 
glory  of  those  paying  them  for  their  verses,  such  terms  as  esteem,  glory,  immortal  fame,  etc., 
play  a  conspicuous  and  very  questionable  role  in  these  imitations  of  the  classics.  Even  at  the 
papal  court  Poggio  and  Cenci  had  organised  a  society  in  the  merry  meetings  of  which  satirical 
epigrams  were  composed,  sparing  nobody. 

Most  detestable  is  the  role  assigned  to  a  good  kitchen  in  that  utilitarian  poetry,  in  imita-  p  i  i  *      uted  b 

tion  of  Horace,  and  the  mockery  of  all  that  is  sacred,  in  imitation  of  Aristophanes.    Pulci,  the  '  Gbupf. 

humanist,  proclaimed:  "I  believe  in  capons,  in  things  cooked  and  roasted;  sometimes  in  butter 
and  beer.  If  I  have  no  beer  I  take  even  hard  cider;  but  of  good  wine  I  am  exceedingly  fond! 
I  believe  in  cake  and  pastry,  of  which  I  esteem  the  one  as  the  mother,  the  other  as  the  son, 
whilst  real  pater  noster  is  baked  liver.  Certain  people  expect  snipe  in  the  next  world,  fine 
wines  and  good  beds,  and  in  expectation  of  that  they  allow  themselves  to  be  stultified  into 
obedience  to  the  monks.  We  on  our  part  prefer  to  enter  the  black  valley  where  we  do  hear 
of  Hallelujah-singing  no  more."    This,  according  to  Grupp's  translation,  was  the  new  "faith." 

Utterances  of  this  sort  are  certainly  characteristic  of  the  manner  in  which 
humanistic  studies  were  scandalised  from  Rome  to  Erfurt,  by  the  kitchen-Latin  of 
such  sycophants,  who,  in  search  of  the  patronage  of  petty  princes,  popularised  the 
Epicurean  fashions. 

As  far  as  Italy  is  concerned  the  veil  was  drawn  away  which  had  been  spread  dur- 
ing the  Middle-Ages.  From  the  Italian  cities  the  personality  of  man  stepped  forth  to 
take  possession  of  its  birth-right.  People  of  sej-ious  mind  took  it  as  their  highest 
prerogative  to  obtain  the  most  liberal  education  possible.  Individually,  one  would 
without  scruple  sever  his  relations  with  state  or  church  as  it  suited  his  case,  and  The  new  discovery  at 
pose  as  a  cosmopolitan.  "In  Florence"— said  Burkhardt— "one  was  able  to  exist  as  an  *'^°"'>'=*=  ^^BüSimi* 
avowed  infidel." 

This  is  something  entirely  new  in  history,  and  equal  in  importance  to  the  discover- 
ies made  just  at  that  particular  period.  In  fact  it  amounted  to  the  greatest  discovery, 
that  man  was  discovered  in  his  rights  as  a  human  being,  in  his  value  as  to  responsi-  Truths  to  be  recognised 
bility,  and  in  his  freedom  to  choose  the  means  for  his  emancipation  and  cultivation,  inthehumanistics. 
It  is  the  man  of  modern  times  who  thus  makes  his  first  appearance.  It  is  no  longer 
the  man  of  barbarian  times  who  prides  himself^with  the  honor  of  the  rank  into  which 
he  was  born,  but  the  man  who  asserts  his  selfrespect  in  the  consciousness  of  his  own 
dignity  and  freedom  as  a  member  of  the  human  family. 

§  152.    The  progressive  movement  of  the  "revival  of  letters",  also  known  as  the  French  court  (Pranci» 
period  of  the  "renaissance",  was  not  long  confined  to  Italy  alone.    Soon  the  French    '  *"     *  renaissance. 
court  ratified  the  revolution  in  costumes  and  fashions. 

Francis  I.  would  have  it,  that  twelve  silver  statues  of  gods  and  goddesses  should  stand  as 
candlesticks  around  the  royal  board;  and  Benvenuto  was  ordered  to  chisel  them  out.    France  Rosso  ^Titian, 
was  filling  up  with  Italian  artists.    Rosso  bought  up  one  hundred  and  twenty  five  antique 
statues  for  the  king  and  hauled  them  over  from  Italy.    Titian  painted  Francis'  portrait. 

The  marvelous  change  of  the  times  was  demonstrated  by  those  circles  of  humanists  who 
gathered  around  Rabelais  when  he  was  either  with  the  bishop  or  upon  his  parish  at  Meudon.  ,  ., 

In  every  possible  form  of  persiflage  he  scoffed  at  "Romanticism"  and  then  depicted  his  ideal  of  burkfque  on  * 
the  future  in  his  "Gargantua."  Eomanticism.  Rabeia» 

It  is  really  astonishing  how  the  old  Hellenic  thought  of  freedom,  of  which  the  compromise  of 
renaissance  talked  so  much,  was  made  to  agree  so  nicely  with  that  despotism  then  liberty  with 

, .,  ,     .     Tx   ,  J  T-.      1       J  11         •     T^  absolutism. 

perceptible  in  Italy  and  England  as  well  as  in  France. 

A  little  different  we  find  the  situation  in  Germany,  where  at  the  smaller  and  less 
luxurious  courts  the  "humanists"  were  not  pampered  quite  so  much.    Hütten  was  a  "«1^'!°''  "''^•^**' 
free  scholar;  he  rang  out:  "The  spirits  awaken;  the  studies  are  in  bloom.    It  is  a 


280  IMPROVEMENT  OF  SOCIAL  RELATIONS.— WOMANHOOD.  IE.  G.  CH.  I.  §  152 

pleasure  to  live  I"  The  trouble  was  that  he  who  led  this  free  life  was  like  many 
others  of  those  heroic  talkers  about  humanistics,  a  doubtful  and  rather  objectionable 
representative  of  the  new  tendency. 

Concerning  German  "humanistics"  the  names  only  need  to  be  mentioned  of  such  as 
ome*»"a  of  humanities  Peurbach,  Regiomontanus,  Rudolph  Agricola,  Euridius  Cordus,  Crotus,  Eobanus  Hessus, 
less  obnoxious  in  which  recall  to  memory  their  hilarious  and  literary  societies  at  Nuernberg,  Heidelberg  and 

Erfurt.  In  illustration  the  remembrance  also  of  the  agile  and  illustrious  Tritenheim  may  be 
freshened  up.  In  his  museum  at  Spanheim  abbey  stood  Celtes'  picture  among  rather  heath- 
enish surroundings,  consisting  of  mottoes  and  books.  The  pity,  however,  was  that  the  good 
natured  monks  were  not  in  the  least  appreciative  of  Conrad  Celtes'  excellent  Greek  Grammar ; 
nor  did  they  feel  the  least  inclination  to  adapt  themselves  to  the  classic  tastes  of  their  abbot. 
Eccentric  "^^^  ^^^  ^^^  °^  humanistic  studies  caused  an  enchantment  under  which  many  an  eager 

Tbitenhkim.  student  lost  his  balance.     The  humanistic  zeal  of  Agricola  and  Celtes  became  so  highly 
.      •     1     r"  I*  wrought,  that  these  enthusiasts  meant  to  render  Germany  more  beautiful  and  more  Latin 

'  '     than    Latium  itself.     A   certain   Frischling  desired  that  every  mountain  on  German  soil 

might  be  changed  into  a  Parnassus  or  a  Helicon,  and  every  spring  should  become  a  Hippo- 
krene.  Mistress  Venus  had  been  banished  into  the  Hoerselberg;  now  she  was  liberated, 
triumphantly  raised  upon  the  shield,  and  celebrated  with  loud  dithyrambics  in  all  poetical 
meters  of  the  resurrected  antique. 

New  formations  in  Thc  "regeneration"    of  the    Roman,    under  resuscitation  of   Greek  world- 

sociaiiife.  consciousness— as    which    the    "renaissance"   is    to   be   understood— transformed 

thoughts,  and  customs,  and  tastes,  in  short  the  entire  range  of  the  modes  of  life  in 
every  respect.    Monkish  theology  considered  women,  for  instance,  as  tools  of  Satan. 
Cause  of  Theoretically  womanhood  was  completely  ignored.    It  is  true  that  chivalrous  knight- 

womiinhood  hood  in  a  romantic  manner  rescued  ladyship,  but  only  to  be  rendered  so  abstract 

than  by  chivalry,  ^s  to  be  restricted  to  the  "kemnate"  of  the  castle,  there  to  become  a  "Frauen- 
zimmer," or  to  be  idolised  in  "notre  dame."  A  cult  of  womanhood  thus  escorted  the 
woman  herself  into  seclusion  and  away  into  unapproachable  transcendentalism. 
The  renaissance  reinstated  woman  into  her  ethical  position  in  society.  Whatever 
the  economical  progress  of  the  modern  world  owes  to  statistics  was  initiated  at 
Economic  theories         Florcuce:  there   for  the  first  time  social  theories   were  based  upon  facts   thus 

founded  upon  statistics  j.     •        j 

of  facts.  ascertained. 

The  Villani  utilised  statistical  material  even  for  historiography.  They  began  to  paint 
real  pictures  of  the  time  when  they  wrote  history,  touching  not  only  the  political  and  admin- 
istrative problems  of  the  day,  but  taking  the  history  of  art,  science  and  habits  of  life  into 
their  scope. 

It  is  but  natural  that  such  a  new  life  continued  to  grow  in  interest,  and  that  its 
effects  were  spreading;  that  in  contrast  to  the  monastic  flight  from  the  world  and  con- 
tempt of  earthly  conditions,  the  value  of  real  existence,  love  for  the  soil  and  its  culti- 
vation, and  the  duty  of  improving  social  relations  and  conditions  all  came  to  be 
recognised. 
Architecture  and  Couceming  archltccture  Schnaase  admits,  that  the  Gothic  style  is  chiefly  adapted 

renaissance,  schhaas«.  ^q  bullding  churchcs.  Wherever  man  feels  himself  as  such  and  wants  to  feel  at 
home,  where  the  conveniences  of  light,  pure  air,  and  comfort  become  necessities  in 
the  dwellings  of  a  free  citizen,  there  the  Gothic  style  (to  say  nothing  of  the  Moorish), 
will  gradually  recede. 

That  bourgeoisie  of  a  well  situated  middle  class  in  the  cities  existed  already  when  the 

renaissance  set  in.    The  new  modes  of  life  required  new  forms  for  the  reconstruction  of 

society  as  well  as  new  designs  for  the  structure  of  edifices.    The  style  of  the  antique  was 

borrowed.     Doric    and     Corinthian     columns,     wreaths     of     flowers,    and    genii    playing 

among  them  with  amorettes,  beside  all  the  gods  and  goddesses  of  Greece,  had  to  decorate  the 

portals  and  window-casings  up  to  the  gable-ends  of  urban  residences,  as  well  as  of  princely 

palaces.    The  houses  of  the  renaissance  looked  odd  among  the  mediaeval  gables  fronting 

the  narrow  streets  in  the  gloomy  cities  of  old.    But  they  had  come  to  stay  and  announced  the 

Middle-Ages  only  to  be      dawn  of  a  new  aera.  Now  the  world  arose  from  sleep  and  rubbed  its  eyes.  It  was  only  through 

cont^r^^it'h  the'**  ^^^  Contrast  demonstrated  by  such  object  lessons  that  people  could  become  conscious  of  the 

antique,  in  the  study  of    meaning  of  their  time.    "The  study  of  the  antique  alone  enables  us  to  understand  the  Middle- 

this  t-««ito>gy^P->od^^^    Ages"  we  may  say  with  Burckhardt. 

Classic  literature,  taken  as  a  standard  in  measuring  the  contrast  of  the  two  oppo- 
site modes  of  thought,  enables  the  observer  now  as  then,  to  distinguish  their  nature 
and  the  effects  caused  by  the  strain  between  them.  The  result  of  such  comparison  is 
similar  to  that  understanding  which  one  may  gain  of  his  own  country  and  the  char- 
acter of  his  own  nation  by  viewing  it  from  the  outside.  One  living  in  a  foreign 
country  and  looking  back  with  fond  regard  upon  the  scenes  of  his  native  home,  is 


II  G.  Ch.  II.  §  153.  REALITY  AND  DESTINY  CONCILIATED.  287 

better  enabled  to  compare  and  to  appreciate  the  excellencies  of  both,  his  native  land  oniy  from  the  position 
and  the  country  of  his  adoption,  than  the  other  who  cannot  transfer  his  mind  by  the  woHdTheory  of 
memory  of  his  own  experiences  into  different  sceneries  and  situations.  aJ^ lu?**^^®^ 

Educated  people  of  the  Occident  were  now  in  the  position  to  apply  the  criterion  ^^Goffei^^f *^^ 
by  which  since  that  period  the  world  has  become  conscious  of  the  failings  of  the  nature,"        §64. 
classic  period  as  well  as  of  those  of  the  Middle-Ages.    The  gospel  of  the  secondary  good^lServlbiet"^ 
good,  gleaming  out  of  classic  lore  and  art,  assisted  those  who  were  able  to  compare  it  *^?4^'^,J*^^f  ^«"^ 
with  the  true  Gospel  of  the  Absolute  Good,  to  understand  the  latter,  and  to  appreciate  distinguishing  the  chief 

■^  .  ,  ^  i:m:  opposite  modes  of 

it  the  better,  since  they  obtained  an  insight  into  two  seras.    People  had  been  sur-  thought  and  for  judging 

'  •'  °  ^  the  effects  of  the  strain 

rounded  by  symbolism  and  forms  of  Christianity  which  were  fully  intelligible  to  a  between  them. 
very  few  only.    Now  the  old  antitheses  of  the  Aryan  world-consciousness  began  to  vie  ^^^X^^htZv^^e 
with  each  other,  whereby  man  was  set  free  to  examine  and  to  criticise.     As  the  theTtSfs^of  t*he^*^ 
church  had  promulgated  the  idea  of  the  transcendental,  and  had  connived  at  the  same  thellue  Go^sper"*""' 
time,  at  the  classic  conception  of  a  world  filled  with  aflärmations  of  divine  immanency,  Se'^^inffree*^**"** 
so  man  found  out  that  he  might  choose  between  them,  or— find  the  mode  of  mediation  legausmf'^"'*"""'  *"* 
necessary  to  reconcile  the  truths  contained  in  either  cognition.  and  enabled 

The  most  immediate  effect,  then,  of  the  irritations  caused  by  the  Turano-Mongo-  conciuation  Tf  the 
lian  movements,  was  the  infusion  of  Hellenistic  ideas  causing  the  revival  of  the  "hu-  transce*i?dentansm\nd 
manistics",  which  in  turn  resulted  in  the  regeneration  of  the  Aryan  world-conscious-  in'fuXrof  human^^thi 
ness.    For  henceforth  a  new  and  consistent  world-theory,  respecting  humanity  and  IfeofThl  T'uranT* 
the  conciliation  of  real  existence  with  human  destiny,  was  sought,  substantiated,  and  prac-  '""'»eoiian  commot^ons^ 
tically  inaugurated.  This  caused  the      ^^ 

We  begin  to  see  the  purport  and  significance  of  the  new  phenomenon  originating  of  the^Scidentai 
In,  or  reducible  to,  Central-Asia.  Ton^sctousness : 

The  spirit  of  humanity,  the  humanism  which  upon  its  natural  basis  had  been   §127, 134,  ] 38, 142. 
brought  to  its  highest  possible  development  in  the  Occident,  which,  however,  had  been  the  conciliation  of  reai ' 
adulterated  and  depressed  by  the  intermixture  of  Semitic  legalism,  this  spirit  be-  "e'stS^ ^"'"'''' 
came  now  released  from  its  despondency  and  hierarchal  enchainment;  it  was  gradu-   §63,92,123,139,147,158. 

^  ''  »  o  Occidental  world- 

ally  purified  and  restored  to  its  full  Christian  meaning.  consciousnes  as  to 

°  divine  immanency 

CH.  n.    WIDENING  OF  THE  HORIZON  IN  THE  >ERA  OF  DIS  COVERIES.  ^gansLrand  Buddh^t" 

§  153.    The  mental  excitement  which  had  agitated  the  minds  of  the  western  nar    ^'"'*"'  «^^'^te'^p* 
tions  since  the  fall  of  Constantinople  caused  an  almost  radical  change  in  the  exter-  the^wh'ofe^iinTof^^he'' 
nal  forms  and  conditions  of  life  throughout  the  world,  in  keeping  with  the  spiritual  of  Me'di«"varEu*^ope!'*'°' 
advance  now  ensuing.    On  the  whole,  the  world  of  antiquity  had  been  entombed» 
like  Herculanum  and  Pompeii,  and  forgotten.   We  witnessed  its  resurrection.   Scho- 
lasticism and  Romanism  were  critically  tried  and  sentenced.     More   or  less  con- 
scious of  the  circumstances,  public  life  was  drawn  into  the  movement,  and  with  more 
or  less  determination  society  underwent  its  alternation  according  to  the  verdict. 

In  every  direction  the  recovering  mind  apprehended  a  view  of  the  world  as  it 
really  is,  different  from  all  former  views. 

There  is  a  mysterious  law  which  prompts  nations,  rising  after  a  long  period  of 
rest,  to  extend  their  relations.  To  such  an  impulse  Europe  now  responded  with  a 
vehemency,  as  if  something  was  to  be  made  good  that  had  been  neglected  for  centu- 
ries. The  entire  organism  of  the  European  nations  was  set  in  motion  at  once.  It  had 
dreamt  that  the  world  revolved  upon  the  Mediterranean  Sea,— or  the  other  "See'*,  Man  having: 
rather,  near-by.  As  soon  as  the  spell  of  this  enchantment  was  broken,  Europe  arose  hlmseinn  the 
with  recuperated  strength  and  undertook  exploits  into  the  wide  world.  m^'de  njfw  foV  the 

Man  had  been  discovered;  in  the  thought  of  humanity  he  came  to  himself;  and  he  discovery  of  his 
now  went  to  discover  the  world,  too.  ^**^   * 

We  will  take  one  more  retrospective  glance  over  the  history  of  the  Mediterranean  before  „  , 

I  -J.  .      •.  .  1  ......  r,  .       ■,  ■,   •  Retrospect  upon  the 

we  leave  it  to  its  present  historic  insignificance,  comparatively  speaking.  history  of  the  Mediter- 

The  Mediterranean  had  become  the  domain  of  the  Phenecians  after  they  had  pushed  ^^"^^^"^  ^^»'i- 
aside  the  trade  of  the  Hittites  and  the  J^gyptians.    Even  the  Greeks  were  beaten  by  Carthage. 
But  when  the  Numidian  cavalry  covered  with  the  skins  of  leopards  and  lions,  descended  from 
the  Alps  to  invade  Italy,— on  bare  horseback,  with  bridles  made  of  rush-grass,  and  wav-  represent  hfiayJrs  of 
Ing  shields  made  of  elephants'  ears— then  the  iron  legions  of  Rome  kept  the  field,  and  the  cultural  remnants  the 

1         •     •  ^-i        j^      .  ■,       .  ■>.,,.«  -     ,         .  .       .      -       ^        .  „,,        history  of  the  cultured 

<lominion  over  the  Occident  was  decided  in  favor  of  the  Aryans  against  the  Semites.    The  nations.  Cesnoia. 

Mediterranean  became  the  world's  highway  under  the  control  of  Roman  boatswains.  Most 
explicitly  is  the  history  of  the  Mediterranean  shown  in  the  alternate  layers  of  cultural  resi- 
due upon  Cyprus. 


Commercial  relations 
established  sequent  to 
pilgrimages  and 
crusades. 


Genesis  of 

modern 

international 

commerce  and 

trans-oceanic 

intercourse 

as  connected  with 
Turano-Mongolian 
movements. 


Moors  blockade  the 
Venetian  line  of 
commerce. 

Columbus  1492. 

Tur.-Mon. 
corsairs  the 
direct  cause  of 
new  maritime 
enterprises, 

as  formerly  of  building 
of  cities.  §  140. 


and  study  of 
humanistics. 


§62. 


Columbus  commissioned 
by  Ferdinand  at 
Alhambra  on  the  day 
that  Turkish  rule  was 
driven  frooi  Spain. 

Mongolian  visits 
returned  by  new  routes. 


Commnnicatlon 
extended  by  water 
despite  the  corsairs. 

Vasco  de  Gama 
doubles  Cape  of  Good 
Hope.  §  76. 

Christians  draw  anchor 
at  Calicut  A.  D.  U98. 


For  the  first  time 
earth  was  taken 
in  full  possession, 

Albuquerque  trades  with 
the  Chinese. 

1517.  Andrad  in  the 
South  Sea. 


1517.  Turano-Mongolian 
circle  disclosed  at 
Yucatan. 

1519.  Cortez  lands  at 
Vera  Cruz. 


Conquest  of  Mexico 
preliminary  to  the 
storming  of  Peking. 

§  54,  194. 

Toltecian  culture  in 
Peru.        A.  v.  Hümbouw. 


AGE  OF  DISCOVERIES  IN  THE  SKIES  AND  ON  THE  WATERS.        11.  G.  CH.  II.  §  154. 

Deep  below  the  other  drif  tings  iEgy  ptian  and  Phenecian  remnants  of  sculpture  are  found ; 
then  some  cuneiform  inscriptions  of  the  Persians,  for  the  most  powerful  of  the  Darii  had  been 
in  possession  of  the  island.  Then  come  the  deposits  of  Greek  and  Roman  culture,  followed  by 
Byzantine  and  Arabian  remnants,  which  in  turn  are  superseded  by  objects  bearing  decided 
marks  of  Genoese,  Venetian,  and  Turkish  improvements.  According  to  Cesnola  this  island 
resembles  a  collective  lens  of  all  the  vicissitudes  experienced  in  the  Roman  basin. 

Equal  observations  may  be  made  around  Syracuse,  the  other  stapleplace  of  the  Mediter- 
ranean, for  the  possession  of  which  many  a  battle  had  been  fought.  Phenicians,  Hellenes, 
Punians  and  Romans,  Goths  and  Normans,  Moors  and  French  had  spilled  their  blood  upon  this 
focus  of  covetous  mariners.  The  searching  archaeologist  may  in  one  day  travel  from  the 
Greek  temple  and  Roman  amphitheatre  to  the  porphyry  sarcophagi  of  the  Hohenstauflfen 
emperors. 

During  the  Mediaeval  ages  parts  of  the  Roman  basin,  formerly  of  great  importance,  sank 
into  oblivion.  Other  markets  had  not  only  compensated  for  the  losses,  but  even  extended  the 
scenes  of  activity.  Christian  and  Arabian  civilisation  combined,  wrought  peculiar  industrial 
and  commercial  relations,  through  which  goods  were  transported  from  the  Baltic  through 
the  regions  of  the  Oder  and  the  Danube  toward  Constantinople  and  Asia.  Fur  from  the  Obi 
and  ivory  from  the  Senegal  passed  each  other  on  the  gulf  of  the  three  continents.  Christian, 
Arabian,  Buddhistic,  and  Mongolian  caravans,  pilgrimages,  crusades  and  other  martial 
exploits  brought  the  nations  into  various  forms  of  contact,  which  finally  continued  in  the 
peaceable  pursuits  of  commercial  transactions.  China  exchanged  its  goods  with  the  Vene- 
tians upon  Malacca,  where  also  the  islands  of  the  Indian  archipelago  brought  their  spices  to 
market. 

But  Venice  commanded  only  an  insecure  overland  route,  so  that  whenever  the  Moors 
would  block  it  up,  its  commerce  would  be  captured.  When  this  happened  it  caused  Columbus 
to  fit  out  his  caravels  at  Palos.  The  coasts  of  Africa  and  Asia  being  completely  at  the  mercy 
of  Moorish  corsairs,  new  roads  had  to  be  explored  for  navigation ;  the  Rialto  of  Venice  was 
deserted ;  the  oriental  lines  held  by  the  merchant  princes  suspended  their  traffic. 

It  is  of  great  importance  to  take  all  this  into  consideration,  in  order  to  see  in 
what  very  real  manner  the  eastern  incumbrance  pushed  the  West  into  new  chan- 
nels of  enterprise.  On  the  very  day  that  Ferdinand  had  driven  the  last  vestige  of 
Moorish  rule  from  Spain  and  made  his  entrance  into  the  Alhambra,  Columbus  re- 
ceived his  commission  from  the  king  to  go  to  Nipon  in  a  western  direction. 

When  the  new  world  was  discovered,  the  old  chain  by  which  the  "orbit"  had  been 
fettered  to  the  "See"  around  the  Mediterranean  sank  piecemeal  to  the  bottom  of  the 
Atlantic  Ocean.  And  at  the  time  that  the  western  exit  was  opened  for  Europe,  the 
western  gates  of  the  Asiatics  were  also  forced  for  Aryan  culture  to  enter  into  the 
Turano-Mongolian  countries  by  the  eastern  route. 

Modern  world-traffic  was  then  in  its  genesis.  The  two  hemispheres  began  recog- 
nising each  other  and  entered  into  reciprocal  interaction.  No  sooner  had  the  Atlan- 
tic Ocean  been  crossed,  than  the  Pacific,  too,  was  taken  into  embrace  by  the  ships  of 
the  Aryans;  in  fact  it  was  only  then  that  ship-building  commenced. 

§  154.  In  the  quick  succession  of  a  few  decades  marine  activity  completely  al- 
tered the  condition  of  Europe. 

When  on  the  28th  of  May  A.  D.  1498  the  Christians  for  the  first  time  drew  anchor 
before  Calicut,  and  with  loud  praises  gave  thanks  to  God  for  safe  guidance  around  the 
Cape  of  Good  Hope  the  greatest  revolution  in  the  history  of  culture  had  been  accomplished. 
For  the  first  time  man  had  taken  full  possession  of  the  earth.  The  Mediterranean  was 
reduced  to  an  inland  lake.  Only  now  had  the  East  been  made  accessible,  and  the 
notion  of  Columbus  realised. 

That  brigantine  which  noble  d'  Albuquerque  had  sent  from  Malacca  to  China  returned 
with  a  full  freight  of  silk;  and  in  1517  Andrad  drew  anchor  upon  the  Southern  coast  of  China. 
The  world's  commerce  was  inaugurated ;  the  Augustinian  and  Franciscan  monks  were  im- 
mediately following.  In  the  same  year,  1517,  Hermandezde  Cordoba  disclosed  the  other  side  of 
the  Turano-Mongolian  circle  of  nations  when  he  landed  upon  the  strand  of  Yucatan.  Buried 
since  many  centuries  by  the  old  forests  the  architectural  works  of  the  Maja  were  again  beheld 
by  the  eyes  of  civilised  man.  The  roads  to  Uxal,  Copan,  and  Palenque  with  their  gates  of 
uncalculable  age,  and  with  their  sculptured  pictures  were  reopened. 

Two  years  later  Cortez  landed  at  Vera  Cruz.  The  graded  towers  and  temple-pyramids 
of  the  Aztecs  were  seen  swarming  with  worshipers  in  full  action.  The  conquest  of  Mexico 
was  only  preliminary  to  the  reduction  of  Peking,  three  centuries  later.  Then  the  empire  of 
the  Incas  was  laid  open  to  the  view  of  Europe.  Toltecian  life  appeared  in  that  shape  in  which 
it  had  taken  a  final  rest  from  its  wanderings  from  the  North  and  along  the  Cordilleras  to  Peru. 
Transatlantic  Mongolo-Malayan  culture  appeared  at  its  acme,  at  its  close.  Agriculture  had 
been  remarkably  developed.  Streets  had  been  built ;  and  artificial  constructions  of  high  tech- 
nique, up  to  heights  of  12,440  feet,  (according  to  Humboldt)  covered  the  slopes  of  the  mountains 
up  to  their  crests. 


n  G.  CH.  n.  §  155.  EARTH  TAKEN  IN  POSSESSION— COLUMBUS.  288 

The  Incas  worshiped  the  sun,  a  cult- adopted  from  the  Aymara,  who  most  probably  were 
Toltecs  from  the  regions  of  Lake  Titicaca.  Upon  one  of  its  islands  the  ruins  of  an  old  palace 
of  the  Incas  can  be  seen  up  to  this  day.  Their  daughters,  the  "sun-virgins",  educated  in  fnca-c'uiture^Md*" 
strict  seclusion,  and  also  their  ancestor-cult  remind  one  of  China.  To  the  Inca-Indians  Cuzco  that  of  China. 
was  the  navel  of  the  world,  just  as  the  Chinese  considered  their  "Empire  of  the  Middle"  to 
be.  The  golden  tiles  of  the  Inca-palace  near  Cuzco  glittered  into  the  far  distance.  In  the 
sun-temple  of  this  metropolis,  the  mummies  of  the  rulers  were  seated  upon  golden  chairs, 
and  these  rulers  used  to  handle  the  plough  once  a  year,  just  as  it  ever  has  been  the  custom  in 
China. 

The  conquest  and  devastation  of  Peru  will  remain  a  stain  upon  the  pages  of  the  history 
of  the  Spaniards  who  so  horribly  abused  their  power  during  the  century  it  took  them  to 
extirpate  the  Incas.  By  Spanish  vandalism  the  voices  were  silenced  which  most  likely  would 
have  testified  to  the  fact  that  the  pagan  Incas  were  no  worse  barbarians  than  the  Bomauised 
Celts  and  Goths  of  the  Iberian  peninsula. 

This  world  of  Turano-and  Malayo-Mongolian  culture  in  the  new  Occident  ap-  News  of  Turano- 
peared  to  the  astonished  view  of  Europe  for  the  first  time.      The  marvel  heightened  frSSom^theVest 
when  simultaneously  with  evidence  of  West-India's  wealth  specimens  of  an  old,  queer  sTmuH^n^usiy,  take 
culture  arrived  from  the  extreme  ends  of  the  Orient.     The  Pacific  with  its  two  coasts  ^""''"  "^  '"**"'^- 
was  a  surprise  to  the  old  nations  around  the  Mediterranean,  reminding  them  of  the 
separation  between  Iran  and  Turan  which  had  lasted  5000  years  at  the  least.    The 
transfer  of  a  few  sets  of  polar  tension  to  the  Atlantic  Ocean  in  the  first  place  brought 
to  view  the  peculiar  contrasts  between  ancient  and  modern  history,  which  demarcate 
the  old  and  new  horizon  in  point  of  natural  science  and  of  world-consciousness. 

How  limited  had  that  horizon  been  previous  to  the  renaissance. 

The  Iliad  knew  nothing  of  the  world  outside  the  Balkan  peninsula  and  its  archipelago; 
it  scarcely  alluded  to  some  hordes  of  southern  Scythia.   The  knowledge  of  the  world  ends  with  Comparison  of 
Paphlagonia  toward  the  East,  and  with  Thebes  toward  the  South ;  this  limited  geography  is  *^.^^^IJ  horizon 
enwrapped  in  nebulous  mythical  legends.  vYews^aboutThe' 

Then  came  the  church  whose  teachers  adhered  to  a  world-theory  which  comprised  the  Y**^^*^  *"  *^® 
Roman  world-orbit.  "On  their  map  they  located  paradise  and  the  center  of  the  world  at  ^^  ages. 
Jerusalem."  We  only  need  to  glance  over  the  old  Catalonian  chart  of  the  world  drawn  A.  D. 
1375.  A  very  slight  attempt  was  made  thereby  to  lift  the  world  out  of  the  fogs  of  the  old 
legends.  "Thepictureor  figure  referred  to  is  as  round  as  a  ball  the  boys  play  with,  only  more 
like  an  egg ;  it  is  divided  into  four  parts,  representing  the  elements.  For,  as  an  egg  is  enclosed 
in  the  shell,  and  as  the  white  of  the  egg  again  surrounds  the  yolk,  so  this  world  is  on  all  sides 
surrounded  by  Heaven,  corresponding  to  the  shell  of  the  egg.  Heaven  surrounds  the  pure  air ; 
the  pure  air  surrounds  the  nebulous,  as  the  white  of  the  egg  surrounds  the  yolk."  On  the 
uttermost  end  of  the  eastern  side  the  locality  is  outlined  where  the  anti-Christ  dwells:  "There 
is  the  figure  of  the  great  Prince  of  Gog  and  Magog,  who  at  the  advent  of  the  anti-Christ  will 
arrive  with  a  large  host."  We  also  see  the  country  of  the  cranes  and  the  dwarfs.  "And  now 
that  these  small  people  marry  when  they  are  only  twelve  years  old,  they  defend  themselves 
ably  against  the  cranes,  and  take  and  eat  them.  Here  ended  the  realm  of  the  lord  of  China." 
In  the  monastery  atEbsdorf  a  map  was  discovered  recently  with  date  of  1260  A.  D.,  which  shows 
"the  shining  birds  of  the  Hercynian  woods  and  the  miraculous  fountain  wherein  bathing  men 
are  changed  into  women."  Such  is  the  derivation  of  our  story  of  the  storks  fetching  the 
babes  from  the  land  of  wonders  and  fairies. 

What  geography  owes  to  the  embassies  which  came  to  the  papal  court,  is  not  to  be  ig-  papal  court  and 
nored.  There  was  some  correspondence  with  Armenia.  ^Ethiopian  emissaries  came  to  Rome  of  geography. 
whom  Poggio  made  inquiry  as  to  the  rise  of  the  Nile.  This  evinces  the  truth  that  since  the  age  inquiry  as  to  the  Nile's 
of  Indicopleustes  some  advance  had  indeed  been  made  in  the  knowledge  of  our  earth.    Yet  sources.  Poögi». 

how  deficient  was  that  knowledge,  and  how  narrow  the  horizon  in  point  of  science  when  the  Progress  since  indico- 
sera  of  discoveries  began  to  overthrow  such  childish  perceptions,  at  the  approach  of  the  great-  Pie'^ste«- 
est  epoch  since  the  Middle  of  the  times. 

^  155.    Modern  geography  dates  from  A.  D.  1500,  the  year  in  which  Brazil  wasdis-  changes  wrought  by  the 
covered.    From  this  year  we  may  amply  date  also  the  present  knowledge  of  the  skies ;  ^^^^^  J['   ^^  erbe^jn, 
for  just  then  Copernicus  was  made  professor  of  mathematics  in  Rome.      Humanity  g^^^}*'®  discovery  of 
began  to  explore  earth  and  heaven  at  the  same  instant. 

Copernicus,  professor  at 

Through  fourteen  centuries  Ptolemy's  astronomy  had  held  its  sway.     So  long  the  ^^""^ 
earth  had  been  imagined  as  the  innermost  core  of  a  large  onion,  the  diverse  layers  or 
skins  of  which  were  the  planetary  spheres.    The  church  had  fashioned  her  dogmas  in  Humanity  at  the 
conformity  with  such  apperceptions;  for  somewhere  between  these  spheroids  the  |x™ior?ng"the 
abodes  of  the  blessed  and  the  condemned  were  located,  and  above  them  all,  far  away,  heavens  and  the 
dogmatics  had  placed  the  ecclesiastical  Heavens.  It  was  not  always  an  easy  matter 
to  figure  out  imaginary  distances  between  spiritual  objects. 


S9Q 


Difficult  to  perceive  that 
earthly  measurements  of 

space  and  time 

are  not  applicable  to  the 
spiritual  sphere. 


Its  approximate 
comprehension  would 
have  spared  us  the 
controveisy  about  the 
"Ubiquity"  in  the 
doctrine  of  the  Lord's 
Supper  long  ago. 


Copernicus' 
observations  at 
Frauenburg. 


His  reference  to  the 
observations  of 
Herakleitos  and 
Ekphantes,  the 
Pythagorsean  mentioned 
by  Plutarch : 


Luther's  remarks  on  the 
discovery. 


Roman  incapability  to 
judge  what  was  going 
on  in  Germany. 

JoH.  OF  Kämpen, 

Liberating  effects  of 
scientific  discoveries. 


Back  to  the  spiritual 
center. 


Standard  of 
superiority  not 
physical  quantity 
but  moral 
Quality. 


New  conceptions  of  the 
spiritual  world. 


Both  forms  of  existence 
are  congruent  entities 
in  living  interrelations 
without  eliminating  the 
aseity  of  either  the 
divine  or  the  created 
substantiality. 


COPERNICUS— HEAVENS  EXPLORED.  11  G.  Ch.  II.  §  155. 

At  last  it  was  acknowledged  an  impossibility;  but  just  as  impossible  did  it  seem  to 
purge  the  mind  of  the  notion  of  mathematical  measurements  being  applicable  to  the 
spiritual  sphere.  Unless  the  idea  of  space  is  subjected  to  philosophical  treatment, 
an  at  least  approximate  cognition  is  ou^  of  the  question,  whilst  at  the  same  time  the 
necessity  is  felt  to  form  some  adequate  comprehension  of  these  entities,  the  frame- 
work of  all  other  realities. 

When  the  scholastics  argued  about  the  number  of  angals  which  might  find  room  on  the 
point  of  a  needle,  they  thought  that  the  problem  had  been  shifted  upon  the  proper  track;  and 
it  was  with  difficulty  that  the  grave  errors  ensuing  from  such  clumsy  conceptions— as  for 
instance  agitating  the  doctrine  of  ubiquity  of  the  Lord's  body  in  the  Lord's  supper— could  be 
overwhelmed. 

The  matter  of  locating  spiritual  objects,  that  is,  forming  the  definition  of  the 
cognition  of  space,  had  been  made  plausible  by  some  sort  of  an  interpretation  with 
which  theologians  and  the  laity  had  contented  themselves.  Then  the  shock  came  by 
which  all  these  baseless  tenets  were  overthrown. 

In  his  tower  of  the  Frauenburg  cathedral,  with  the  view  over  the  roofs  of  the 
Ermelandish  town  toward  the  white  dunes  of  the  "haff"  and  the  waters  of  the  Baltic 
—Copernicus  made  his  observations  of  the  sky  many  a  night.  He  took  up  the  calcu- 
lations of  the  ancients.  He  wrote  to  Pope  Paul  HI  that  "for  a  long  time  he  had 
pondered  in  his  thoughts  the  uncertainty  of  every  assertion  made  by  astronomers  con- 
cerning the  several  motions  of  the  Heavenly  spheres."  After  profound  meditations 
upon  the  subject  he  found  in  Plutarch's  writings  that  Heracleitos  and  Ekphantos, 
the  Pythagoraean,  had  believed  in  the  motion  of  the  earth  as  a  matter  of  course.  This 
remark  had  fascinated  Copernicus  and  stimulated  his  conjectures;  it  took  him  no 
great  length  of  time  to  make  an  end  of  the  uncertainties. 

When  Luther,  sitting  at  dinner  with  some  of  his  friends  as  usual,  was  apprised  of  the 
first  rumors  of  this  great  scientific  reform,  he  said  to  them :  "This  fool  talks  astho  he  wanted 
to  upturn  the  entire  art  of  astronomy." 

The  Roman  curia  lacked  the  capacity  to  take  cognizance  of  what  was  going  on  in  Ger- 
many concerning  the  new  views  of  Heaven  and  earth,  so,  at  least,  John  of  Kampen,  wrote  from 
Rome  to  Bishop  Dantiscus.  The  progressive  movement  of  the  German  spirit  was  thus  ignored, 
and  the  process  of  emancipating  the  intellect  went  on  without  Rome,  and— against  it.  Coper- 
nicus dedicated  his  book  to  the  pope ;  but  the  Lutheran  Andreas  Oslander,  then  at  Nuernberg, 
superintended  the  printing  and  wrote  the  preface. 

The  new  theory  was  an  audacious  contradiction  of  sense-perception.  With  one 
stroke  the  earth  was  displaced  from  the  dignity  erroneously  assigned  to  her,  of  occupy- 
ing the  spatial  center  of  the  universe.  Scientifically  the  earth  was  relegated  to  a 
rather  insignificant  corner  from  the  dominating  position  which  had  been  assigned  her 
by  the  shallow  minds  who  had  an  interest  to  maintain;  for  since  they  had  considered 
themselves  centers  of  the  universe,  they  dreamt  of  nothing  but  to  rule  upon  this  earth. 
Henceforth  the  Church,  taken  as  the  "government  of  religion",  had  to  enure  herself 
to  the  abrogation  of  her  earthly  and  materialistic  ambitions  and  allow  herself  to  be 
led  back  to  the  figure  of  her  Master,  so  insignificant  in  an  earthly  sense;  to  be  led  back 
to  the  invisible  center  and  source  of  spiritual  strength  and  dominion.  Henceforth 
man  was  to  learn  that  his  concerns  do  not  depend  upon  physical  quantities  and 
material  forces,  and  political  prerogatives,  but  that  the  standard  of  value  is  moral 
superiority  and  spiritual  quality. 

Since  the  earth  ceased  to  be  the  spatial  center  and  was  no  longer  preponderating  in 
weight,  another  measure  was  necessarily  to  be  applied  to  earthly  relations  in  general. 
The  standard  was  difficult  to  be  computed,  since  the  search  and  the  finding  must, 
from  necessity,  involve  a  break  with  scholastic  dogmatism;  and  since  the  application 
of  the  new  norm  must,  from  equal  necessity,  unsettle  the  whole  social  fabric.  The 
discovery  was  made,  however,  and  the  inevitable  consequences  ensued. 

Heaven  as  the  habitation  of  nature  divine  and  of  the  personal  God  needed  to  be 
conceived  in  a  different  relation  to  the  earth.  Heaven,  in  its  true,  that  is,  in  the  religi- 
ous sense,  was  to  be  conceived  as  something  else  than  the  material  sky;  probably  as  a 
spiritual  form  of  space,  coexisting  and  coextensive  with,  and  pervading  and  per- 
meating the  material  form  of  our  existence;  at  any  rate  as  a  spiritual  sphere  which 
in  regard  to  space  is  not  only  not  far  from  man,  but  even  within  him.  The  poor  con- 
cept of  Heaven  and  earth,  of  time  and  eternity— being  imagined  as  realities  beside 
each  other,  as  concomitants  intersected  by  distances— must  of  necessity  be  thoroughly 
modified  if  not  entirely  reconstructed. 


n  G.  CH.  III.  §  156.     POLARITY  BETWEEN  ROMANISM  AND  GERMANISM  AND  ITS  EQUIPOISE.  291 

Now  intelligence  became  enabled  to  elaborate  the  truth,  that  both  forms  of  exis- 
tence are  congruencies  in  a  living,  organic  interrelation  and  immanency,  without 
eliminating  the  aseity  of  either  the  divine,  or  the  created,  substantiality.  The  apper- 
ception of  a  local  up  or  down,  depending  upon  mathematical  distances  between  spirit- 
ual and  material  concretes,  could  now  be  overcome  by  the  insight  into  hyperphysi- 
cal,  but  none  tlie  less  real,  correlation  and  coextension  of  things  above  and  below. 

As  soon  as  such  cognitions  became  successfully  formulated  and  intelligible 
many  superstitious  ideas  were  set  aside.  The  fears,  for  instance,  of  controlling  influ-  LTannfluences"*** 
ences  from  astral  worlds,  were  abandoned,  and  with  them  sank  the  fetters  by  which  abandoned. 
the  human  mind  had  been  bound  down  and  subjected  to  the  visible  "spiritual"  gov- 
ernment. Shackle  after  shackle  was  broken,  and  man  with  his  inner  value  was  put 
into  the  position  originally  designed  for  him.  It  was  the  thought  of  humanity  which 
loomed  up  with  the  discoveries  upon  earth  and  in  the  heavens. 

CH.  III.  THE  GERMANIC  NORTH  AND  THE  REFORMS. 

§156.    The  new  thought  of  humanism,  which  Italy  had  procured  aesthetically,  Advance  necessarily  to 
and  which  was  rendered  practical  by  France  in  matters  of  politics,  was  applied  to  te^netT*^  ""*  rehgious 
philological  research  in  Germany.    Unless  the  ideal  of  man  in  his  value  and  dignity      ub'.mfm^h'l'm', 
could  be  founded  upon,  and  secured  by,  the  immanency  of  the  Divine  Being  in  ... 

reality,  nothing  would  have  been  gained  by  the  renaissance,  by  a  "regeneration"  of 
society  originating  in  the  revival  of  the  classics.  For,  short  of  the  form  of  God-con- 
sciousness alluded  to,  in  its  bearings  upon  the  cardinal  principles  of  humanism, 
nothing  will  avail  as  a  basis  upon  which  the  life  of  a  nation  and  its  advance  toward 
perfection  may  be  perpetuated.  Nothing  but  Evangelical  God-consciousness  will  evince 
itself  as  the  soil  upon  which  true  humanitarianism,  that  is,  civilisation  proper,  can 
prosper. 

In  the  general  development  of  the  Occident  two  periods  are  patent  in  precise  Two  periods  of 
keeping  with  the  ecclesiastical  contingencies.    The  first  manifests  the  tendency  to  ecclesiastical 
externally  fortify  and   preserve  the  efficacy  of  the  civilising  factors;   whilst  in 
the  second  period  the  energies  are  concentrated  upon  the  work  of  internal  edifica-  The  church  to  be 
tion.    Northern  piety  strives  for  the  purification  of  the  religious  constituents  and  for  ^^'^"^"''"^  fortified. 
the  harmonious  improvement  of  the  psychico-spiritual  person  in  every  respect.    Thus  '°i«™*"y  ««^'fi«*. 
Christianity  appears  first  under  the  aspect  of  its  objectivity  and  power,  then  of  its 
subjectiveness  and  freedom.    So  far  we  have  observed  the  activity  of  the  first  period. 

Without  difficulty  the  Romanised  nations  were  trained  to  the  idea  of  a  govern- 
mental unit  and  to  the  practices  of  concentrated  power.  They  were  servile  and  docile  objectivity  and  power.- 
enough  to  cooperate  in  the  efforts  put  forth  to  establish  a  universal  monarchy.      The  ^^]'J^^^^''™  """^ 
polarity  between  the  German  and  the  Roman  inclinations  to  flee  and  at  the  same 
time  to  seek  each  other  as  mutual  complements,  made  the  Germans  to  coincide  at 
last  with  the  tendencies  of  the  times.    Only  externally,  however,  and  for  the  sake  of 
expediency  did  they  allow  themselves  to  be  hitched  to  the  Roman  contrivances.     To  Polarity  between 
the  hierarchal  schemes  of  domineering  supremacy  the  German  peoples  did  inwardly  Rol^n"  "" 
and  voluntarily  never  acquiesce.    There  existed  no  means  on  earth  to  enforce  the  fl^e'^"nd^yet^s*eek 
demands  of  their  mental  submission  except  the  innumerable  forms  of  some  "con-  each  other. 

ft  1 Q7     "I  QQ     1 AO     1  jJQ 

cordat"  aiming  at  their  final  captivation;  but  even  those  maneuvres  could  not  prevail  '     '  146,'  171! 

tho  they  were  resorted  to  almost  to  the  point  of  exhaustion.    No  sooner  had  the  curia  Germans  never  fuiiy 
thought  to  have  found  a  modus  vivendi  than  the  Germans  made  it  an  occasion  to  «u^ri^nacy.*"  ^°°""' 
assert  their  idea  of  personal  rights  and  to  emancipate  themselves  from  the  oppressive 
mediaeval  forms  of  social  life. 

For  a  long  time  a  few  thinkers  and  princes  only  gave  occasional  signs  of  that  op-  g^  ,^^  ^^^j^  ^^.^^^^^  ^^^ 
position  in  which  the  mind  ceased  to  reduce  everything  to  a  spiritual  relation  or  to  Jpjfosuionr"*"^*^"^ 
that  invisible  world  which  ecclesiastical  rule  pretended  to  represent.  Such  minds 
addicted  themselves  rather  to  the  idea  of  conquering  the  material  world  for  them- 
selves, than  of  going  to  put  their  lives  at  stake  in  fighting  for  the  increase  of  papal 
power.  The  few  of  these  summits— reaching  out  of  the  sea  of  humanity,  upon  which 
the  ship  of  the  fishers  of  men  sailed— were  by  the  men  on  board  ever  suspected  as 
dangerous  breakers. 


FORERUNNERS  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


11.  Ü.  CH.  lU.  §  157. 


storms  brewing  for  the 
crew  in  the  ship  of  the 
church. 


Spirit  of  opposition  to. 
priestly  arrogancy  and 
illiteracy  is  spreading— 


popularised  by  men  like 
Walther  v.  d,  Vogelweide, 


Wicleff, 
Nicolaus  V.  d. 


Flue, 


by  Lollhards  and 
■'Friends  of  God," 
Moravians,  Waldensians. 
§  130,  135,  139,  139. 


Not  in  political  defiance 
like  the  revolution 
attempted  by  Arnold  of 
Brescia, 


German  opposition 
directed  against  pagan 
principles  and 
conformity  to  the  world. 


Attempted  reforms  as 
those  of  Clugny  could 
not  succeed  tho  the 
period  of  Henry  II  had 
offered  most  propituous 
opportunities.        Ranks. 


the  proper  time  not  as 
yet  reached. 


Political  situation 
preparatory  to  the 

Keformation. 


How  was  the  time  for 
necessary  reforms. 

Anton  Guenthbk. 

§  127,  134,  138, 142,  145, 

150.  156, 


Those  excellent  and  independent  men  indicate  the  increase  of  the  conviction 
which  they  foreshadow,  that  hierarchal  preponderance  is  contrary  to  the  nature  of 
things  in  general,  and  grows  to  become  intolerable.  In  short,  the  signs  are  that  a 
storm  is  brewing,  accelerating  the  discharges  of  natural  forces  upon  materialistic 
arrogancy  under  the  garb  of  spiritual  leadership.  A  great  revolution  is  preparing 
which  under  self  sacrifice  will  transform  the  modes  of  thinking  and  the  social  forms 
of  occident^il  life. 

Gradually  the  people  in  general  became  conscious  of  the  trend  of  affairs.  The 
inhabitants  of  the  cities,  especially  those  nearest  to  Rome,  showed  resistance  to  relig- 
ious formalism  and  legalism,  and  became  refractory  against  the  political  manipu- 
lators under  the  mitra  or  with  the  rosary.  Everywhere  voices  were  heard  echoing  the 
ominous  sentences  of  Walther  von  der  Vogelweide,  who  taught  the  Germans  to  sing 
songs  in  praise  of  the  fidelity  of  old  and  songs  of  freedom.  Then  the  opposition  began 
to  consolidate,  the  malcontents  gathering  themselves  into  retired  sects  so  as  to  be 
more  secure  against  secret  persecutions  and  summary  dealings. 

Wycliff  had  taken  the  part  of  the  Lollards ;  Nicolaus  von  der  Flue  inspired  the  Swiss 
folks,  and  on  the  lower  Rhine  the  "Friends  of  God"  drew  nearer  the  Savior,  to  the  detriment 
of  priestly  intercession.  The  opposition  of  the  Waldensians  and  Moravians  kept  in  respectful 
distance  from  ecclesiastical  and  civil  power.  They  were  all,  by  means  of  many  aggressive  tho 
unimpeachable  methods,  advocating  the  claim,  that  man's  right  of  selfdetermination  is  to  be 
respected.  This  claim,  as  embodied  in  writings  of  secret  associations,  badly  disfigured  in 
many  cases,  worked  progressively  in  many  ways.  This  opposition  rarely  broke  out  in  open 
defiance  of  the  worldly  regime  of  the  priesthood,  as  in  the  case  of  Arnold  from  Brescia.  The 
parties  of  the  opposition  went  to  the  root  of  the  anomalies  in  protesting  against  the  pagan 
principles  by  withdrawing  from  the  heathenish  exercises,  which  had  been  made  requisites  for 
testing  obedience  and  orthodoxy,  and  had  been  invented  to  further  the  secular  aims  of  the 
hierarchy.  But  the  essence  of  Christianity  had  not  as  yet  been  distinguished  from  church  and 
hierarchy,  from  faith  and  formalism,  which  all  were  considered  identical.  None  as  yet  had 
dared  publicly  to  apply  the  isolator  which  alone  can  effectuate  the  reduction  of  the  Boman 
composition. 

The  church,  once  exceedingly  venerable,  great  as  the  teacher,  and  trustworthy 
as  the  guardian,  of  the  nations  of  Europe,  had  grown  senile  and  pedantic  in  her  cere- 
monials, and  artificial  in  her  sanctimoniousness,  to  say  the  least.  She  was  no  longer 
able  to  discipline  the  stretching  of  the  young  life  in  this  world  of  ours  with  its  cycles 
of  nascency. 

There  had  been  a  time  when  a  reformation  of  the  church,  as  to  her  "head"  and  members, 
might  have  been  accomplished  in  peace  and  unity.  This  was  when  Olaf  and  Boleslaw  planted 
the  cross  in  Scandinavia  and  in  Poland.  The  attempts  at  reform,  initiated  in  Clugny,  were 
just  then  gaining  ground.  But  the  reform  was  referred  to  the  orders  and  the  clergy,  who 
thereby,  instead  of  abandoning  worldliness,  were  made  the  more  efficient  instruments  of 
secularising  the  church,  and  became  the  standing  army  of  papal  autonomy.  At  that  time 
Henry  II  (the  Holy)  went  hand  in  hand  with  the  pope.  It  seemed  as  tho  the  resolutions  of 
the  synod  at  Seligenstadt  would  create  a  national  church  in  Germany  (Ranke  directs  our 
attention  to  this  promising  feature  in  the  reign  of  that  emperor)  equal  to  that  which  the 
French  have  enjoyed  ever  since  Hinkmar  of  Rheims  and  Charles  the  Bald.  The  opportunity 
was  allowed  to  pass  by  without  being  utilised,  like  so  many  other  neglected  opportunities  of 
reform.  But  the  fact  is,  after  all,  that  they  could  not  be  utilised,  simply  because  the  proper 
point  of  time  had  not  as  yet  been  reached. 

§  157.  Now,  however,  the  Germanic  North  was  thoroughly  prepared  for  the  ref- 
ormation. The  leagues  of  the  cities,  like  that  of  the  treaty-towns  of  the  Hansa,  had 
trained  the  citizens  to  a  consciousness  of  independence,  and  had  nourished  the  spirit 
of  political  freedom.  The  country-nobility,  even  more  determined  than  the  aristo- 
crats in  the  cities,  arose  against  overbearing,  illiterate  clericals.  The  lords  of  the 
Scottish  clans,  the  barons  of  the  German  Gaue,  the  magnates  with  the  mind  of  the 
old  Vikings  in  the  northern  countries,  were  first  in  refusing  further  obedience  to 
Rome.  "Now  was  the  time"— as  Anton  Guenther,  the  Catholic  historian  and  philoso- 
pher used  to  emphasise—" when  the  process  could  begin,  which  was  a  necessity  for  the 
advance  of  occidental  Christianity:  the  process  of  disquisition  and  liquidation".  On 
many  historical  grounds  an  ecclesiastical  renovation  was  a  crying  necessity,  indeed. 
Whenever  this  evolutionary  advance  turned  into  a  deplorable  revolution  the  fault  is, 
in  a  great  measure,  to  be  assigned  to  a  well-intended  but  overstrained  "zeal  not 
according  to  knowledge".    With  the  excited  masses,  bare  of  judgment,  the  friends  of 


extreme 
corruption. 


Romanism  in  its  moral 
Laueentius  Valla. 


II  G.  CH.  III.  §  157.  BIBLE  RESTORED  TO  THE  NATIONS.  293' 

progress  could  not  argue.    Neither  was  it  of  any  avail  to  deliberate  with  conserva-  Religious 
tism,  unless  an  honest  basis  for  a  compromise  could  possibly   be  found.      The  pref,Jd^ed  by 
conservatives  could  not  understand  the  necessity  of  recognising  the  just  demands  of  revolutionary 
the  times.  Thus  the  revolutionary  renovation  became  a  problem  so  gravely  entangled 
as  to  be  solved  by  no  other  than  the  radical  means  of  force. 

The  stumbling  block  was  lying  beyond  the  Alps ;  it  was  "ultra-montane".  In  Rome  the  Roman  politics  in  their 
corruption  had  reached  its  highest  degree,  politically,  about  the  year  1500.  The  Venetian 
ambassador  wrote  home  under  date  of  Rome:  "Every  night  four  or  five  are  murdered' 
namely  bishops,  prelates  and  others,  so  that  the  whole  city  trembles  for  fear  of  being  dis-  ^*?,*"^  °i  ^^'L  y 
patched  by  the  Cesar".  In  the  citadel  of  St.  Angelo  the  pope  had  always  700,000  ducats  lying 
in  reserve ;  but  to  maintain  a  force  of  police  for  public  safety  he  does  not  seem  to  have  deemed 
necessary.  Still  deeper,  however,  those  nuisances  were  lying  w^hich  provoked  the  Germanic 
subjects  of  the  "church". 

Mysticism  had  uttered  loud  protestations  in  which  the  beating  conscience  of  the  Mysticism  had  protested 
northerners  knocked  at  the  door  of  the  Vatican— in  vain.    The  humanists  with  their  conscience. 
criticism,  however,  roused  the  sleepers.    Only  think  of  that  dialogue  on  "the  profes- 
sion of  the  religionists".    Altho  monk  and  layman  stand  on  equal  footing,  morally, 
yet  the  monk  has  certain  higher  privileges  by  virtue  of  his— prof  ession  (in  the  sense 
of  business  occupation).    This  was  the  point  which  Laurentius  Valla  attacked.    It  Humanism  attacks 
was  owing  to  the  comparisons  which  now  the  world  began  to  draw  and  to  circulate  decay 
in  print,  that  the  depth  and  esswice  of  Christianity  broke  forth  in  its  seriousness  from 
the  rotten  shells  and  hulls. 

More  than  that.    The  abuse  of  German  conscientiousness  had  caused  them  to  Printing 
engage  in  philological  research  and  in        re-opening     the  "Book  of  the  Nations",  as  ief  orinf  ^^^^^  ° 
Goethe  calls  it.    It  now  as  never  before  became  evident  that  the  literature  contained  iigo^j^  ^^  ^i^^ 
in  this  book  had  not  only  been  impregnated  into  the  theocracy  as  an  institution,  but  nations". 
by  way  of  inspiration  it  had  been  given  to  the  prophets  and  apostles  in  the  same  *""  ' 

manner,  as  the  mother  of  the  chosen  people  had  by  faith  miraculously  conceived  life  world"^^  ^°^  **** 
and  seed,  tho  "past  her  age".    This  word,  spoken  by  God  into  humanity,  resumes  its 
authoritative  position,  and  vindicates  itself  in  substantiating  its  primitive  virtue. 
The  Book  of  the  Nations,  so  long  withheld  from  them,  is  again  given  to  the  world. 

Upon  this  Book,  and  especially  upon  the  exposition  of  its  leading  topic  as  eluci- 
dated by  the  great  Apostle  of  the  gentiles  in  the  Epistle  to  the  Romans,  the  loud  pro- 
test, alluded  to,  is  founded. 

It  here  becomes  necessary  to  reach  back  into  the  past  in  order  to  fetch  up  a  few  connect- 
ing thoughts  concerning  biblical  and  anti-biblical  formations  of  Christianity.     When  the 
primitive  church  had  triumphantly  become  the  church  of  the  empire,  we  deemed  it  suflBcient 
to  refer  to  Chrysostomos  with  a  quotation  descriptive  of  the  beginning  of  aberrations.    One  incipient  deformations 
somewhat  acquainted  with  those  church  fathers— who,  like  Chrysostomos,   had  received  a  examined^^'^HRYsosroM. 
Greek  education— will  know  that  there  exist  good  reasons  for  speaking  of  the  "Platonism  of  i  124, 125, 137,  iso- 

the  Fathers."    He  will  know  how  powerfully  this  Platonism  assisted  in  the  introduction  of 
the  monkish  asceticism  of  Buddhistic  origin. 

The  sister  of  Basilius  of  Caesarea  and  of  Gregory  of  Nyssa  was  the  chief  director  of  the 
nunneries  upon  the  mountains  of  Cappadocia.  It  was  a  circumstance  of  still  greater  signifi- 
cance, which  did  not  go  unpunished,  that  the  teachers  of  the  church  imitated  the  bombastic 
rhetoric  of  paganism  in  the  pulpit.  Unobserved  "the  church  had  to  a  large  extent  molded 
her  concept  of  Christian  life  and  Christian  graces  after  the  ideals  of  the  better  heathenish  piatonism. 
circles;  she  had  unawares  built  up  her  theology  with  material  from  Platonic  philosophy,  and 
she  had  in  some  degree  conformed  her  cult  even  to  the  rites  of  the  pagan  mysteries." 

Worst  of  all,  the  church  had  allowed  a  heathenish  construction  of  the  sacrifice  to  be 
smuggled  into  the  commemorative  and  communicative  celebration  of  the  Lord's  Supper.    A 
eucharist  had  been  made  out  of  it,  an  "unbloody  offering"   (such  was  that  of  Cain),  a  good  J^^**l        . 
work  by  which  the  worshiper  seeks  to  receive  something  in  return. 

We  quote  the  expression  of  a  modern  observer,  that  in  the  sacrificial  rites  the  sincerity 
of  religion  reveals  itself.  And  the  sacrifice  through  which  the  Mediator  really  became  our 
Savior,  was  now  misrepresented  to  the  extent  of  an  adulteration.  By  the  addition  of  heath- 
enish embellishments  the  interpretation  of  the  church  had  become  so  corrupted  as  to  form 
the  basis  for  priestly  intercession  or  Talmudistic  mediatorship  and  corresponding  arrogancy. 
What  had  been  accomplished  by  Christ  for  the  sake  of  humanity  in  the  giving  of  His  body  and 
the  shedding  of  His  blood  in  atonement,  had  essentially  been  withheld.  The  negative  merit  of 
the  great  sacrifice  is  the  liberation  from  the  "dead  works"  of  legalism. 

Through  the  erroneous  Roman  emphasising  of  the  law,  the  Mosaic  rituals  remained  in 
force,  or  rather  regained  it  on  the  score  of  hierarchal  commands.  Positively,  the  fruit  of  the 
atonement  was  the  oflPer  of  free  grace ;  but  the  repristinated  law  barred  the  communicants 
from  the  assurance  of  pardon.     For,  what  the  Savior  had  merited  to  be  appropriated  as  a  gift 


294 


ORDER  OF  NATURE  AND  OF  SALVATION. 


n  G.  CH.  III.  §  158. 


(Unbloody  offering  of 
the  hostia). 

Sincerity  in  matters  of 
religion  reveals  itself  in 
the  sacrificial  rites. 
WUTTKE.  §  108 

Misapprehension  of  the 
facts  of  salvation  and  of 
the  means  of 
appropriating  "Free 
Orace".  S  148. 

Meritorious  works 
required. 

Spirit  of  bondage 
cultivated. 

Intercession  of  the 
"church"  displacing 
the  Savior.         §  U7,  148 

Fundamental 

significance  of 
the  sacraments 

reestablished  by  German 
profundity. 

A  world-theory, 

a  view  of  human  life  in 
general,  is 

implied  in 

tlie  ordinance  of 

the  Lord's 
Supper. 

Not  scientific  advance, 
but,  the  "word  of  the 
cross''  the  fulcrum  of 
the  Reformation. 

Tho  the  coincident  facts 
were  not  accidental. 


The  sacrament  is  the 
touch-stone  A  sound 
theology— and  the 

Keystone  of  the 
ecclesiastical 
organisation,  and 
of  religious 
edification,  upon 
which  the 
welfare  of 
humanity  hinges. 
§  76,  90,  221. 


Theology  did  not  utilise 
the  Copernican 
discovery.  §  155. 

«s  to  the  cognitions 

*'space  and  time." 

Cause  of  the 
discrepancies  between 
Luther  and  Zwinoli. 

Deep  conception 
of  the  sacrament 
representing  the 
immanency  of  the 
divine  nature 
and  essence  in 
nature  and 
history. 

Calvik.  Meiak'chthon. 

"Unio  mystica" 

of  Bernard  of 
Clairveaux  and  Meister 
Eckhardt. 


by  trusting  His  grace  and  relying  upon  His  order  of  salvation,  had  been  made  an  equiva- 
lent for  services  rendered  to  the  institution,  which  required  meritorious  works  if  one  would 
obtain  the  vicarious  merits  of  the  Savior  as  augmented  by  the  consecrated  lives  of  monks  and 
nuns  and  saints,  as  given  into  the  administratorship  of  the  priesthood.  Under  these 
circumstances  a  spirit  of  bondage  had  been  cultivated,  instead  of  educating  humanity  to 
evangelical  cheerfulness.  A  society  was  raised  which  was  permitted  to  live  in  unbridled 
worldliness  on  the  one  hand,  and  which  on  the  other  could  never  do  justice  to  the  require- 
ments and  penances  of  self-renunciation  in  order  to  earn  Heaven. 

Heaven  had  been  opened  to  all  who,  heavy-laden,  would  come  to  the  Son  of  God  under 
the  single  ethical  condition  of  renouncing  sin  in  the  order  of  repentance  and  of  accepting 
forgiveness  through  faith.  But  now  the  church,  that  meant  the  hierarchy,  interceded  between 
the  sinner  and  the  Savior,  and  bartered  out  indulgencies  for  money. 

Any  catechism  based  upon  the  Bible  fully  expounds  the  leading  truths  as  to  the  way  of 
salvation  and  the  order  of  its  appropriation.  Luther's  tract  on  "The  Freedom  of  a  Christian" 
closes  with  the  two  axioms  that  he  is  "a  free  lord  over  all  things,  subject  to  no  man,  and  yet  a 
servant  to  everybody". 

But  not  merely  intellectually,  nor  even  spiritually  but  also  socially  is  the  believer  to  become 
a  follower  of  the  Holy  King  to  whom  he  has  vowed  fidelity.  In  the  religious  emancipation  of 
the  Germanic  nations  the  significance  of  the  most  sacred  institution,  representing  the  one 
great  sacrifice,  was  finally  comprehended  according  to  the  definite  expostulation  of  the  Apos- 
tle with  reference  to  the  sacraments.  By  the  proper  participation  in  the  sacraments,  both 
exhibiting  the  fruits  of  the  atoning  death,  the  individual  member  becomes  embodied  in  the 
organism  of  head  and  members.  The  faithful  constitute  a  most  intimate  fellowship,  since 
through  love  to  their  common  friend,  they  are  bodily  connected  with  the  crucified  and  glori- 
fied Mediator  and  only  intercessor.  In  the  biblical  doctrine  which  intelligibly  expounds  the 
meaning  of  the  sacred  institutions,  there  is  implied  an  entire  world-theory,  a  view  upon  the 
relation  between  the  Infinite  and  the  finite.    This  is  what  concerns  us  here  and  now. 

§  158.  In  the  preceding  chapter  we  alluded  to  the  great  consequences  following 
the  overthrow  of  the  Ptolemseic  picture  of  the  universe.  To  the  Church  this  scientific 
reform  seemed  irrelevant;  yet  the  religious  reform,  accomplished  by  means  from  her 
own  resources  and  in  accord  with  her  own  wants,  was  more  than  a  mere  analogy; 
and  the  synchronism  of  the  coincidence  cannot  be  considered  as  merely  accidental. 

Not  that  cross  which  Heraclius  carried  back  to  Jerusalem,  and  not  the  "mass"  as 
an  unbloody  sacrifice,  with  a  hierarchy  built  upon  both,  had  been  intended  for  pivots 
upon  which  the  world  was  to  hinge.  The  "Word  of  the  Cross"  and  the  living,  personal 
testimony  to  the  fact  of  the  Kesurrection,  and  the  sacramental  appropriation  of  the 
merits  of  the  Savior  and  only  Mediator  through  faith  alone;— these  form  the  fixed 
foundation  upon  which  personal  salvation,  organic  communication  of  the  divine  life, 
and  edification  of  head  and  heart  are  to  be  reared.  In  the  sacrament  as  the  keystone 
to  the  Church  organisation,  and  as  the  touch-stone  of  sound  theology.  Christian  relig- 
iousness centers,  and  upon  that  the  welfare  of  humanity  is  based. 

We  noticed  what  Luther  thought  of  the  reform  of  Copernicus.  In  an  almost  blindfolded 
faith  he  went  to  work,  much  afraid  of  the  dialectics  of  natural,  unguided  reason,  taking 
Heaven  in  the  scholastic  sense— much  to  the  detriment  of  an  understanding  with  Zwingli. 
Both  the  Swiss  reformer  and  the  Saxon  stood  firm  upon  the  word,  the  one  with  more  intel- 
lectual clearness,  the  other  with  a  deep,  intuitive  feeling  of  the  mystical  import  of  "the"  sac- 
rament. Luther  made  it  a  virtue  to  obey  the  last  will  and  testament  of  his  Lord  and  Master. 
"With  sovereign  unconcern  he  went  with  his  head  through  the  wall",  says  the  venerable 
Rocholl ;  "and  against  all  expectations  it  became  evident  for  once,  that  the  head  came  out 
erect,  and  the  wall  broke  down".  It  was  at  this  point  where  the  evangelised  church,  upon 
the  height  of  the  longstanding  reformatory  movement  among  the  Germanic  nations,  broke 
down  the  ancient  barriers  between  Heaven  and  earth :  from  the  point  of  a  more  profound 
conception  and  true  appreciation  of  the  sacrament  of  holy  communion.  This  is  the  truth 
which  Luther  felt  deeper  than  he  was  able  to  philosophise  upon  and  to  formulate — upon 
which  Melanchthon  and  Calvin  agreed. 

In  the  conception  of  the  fact,  that  the  immanency  of  the  divine  life  in  history  and  human 
nature  is  substantiated  and  so  materialised  as  to  remain  immanent,  the  German  Reformation 
culminates  as  the  result  of  the  search  for  the  "Unio  Mystica"  from  which  the  Germans,  since 
Bernard  of  Clairveaux  and  Meister  Eckhardt  were  not  to  be  deviated. 

In  this  aspect  of  the  sacrament  the  contrast  and  seeming  contradiction  of  spirit 
and  body  is  conciliated.  In  the  glorified  body  of  the  Risen  Mediator  the  old  opposites 
are  actually  united.  What  is  earthly  and  natural  is  not  estimated  unworthy  to  be 
elevated  or  as  unfit  to  be  spiritually  transmuted.  Nourished  with  the  glorified  body 
the  earthly  bodies  shall  partake  of  the  very  substance  of  the  life  divine,  in  order  to  be 
fashioned  and  renewed  "like  unto  Him;"  and  with  the  human  bodies,  thus  partaking 


n  Gr.  CH.  m.  §  158.      PALLADIUM  OF  THE  CHRISTIAN  CULTUS.— LUTHER  AND  ZWINGLI.  29&' 

of  the  divine-human  substance,  the  natural  world— from  which  they  were  taken, 
and  by  the  assimilation  of  which  natural  being  attains  to  its  purpose— becomes  glori- 
fied also. 

The  unification  of  nature  and  spirit— intended  ever  since  creation  was  thought  of— is 
now  apprehensively  inaugurated  and  exhibited  in  the  proper  celebration  of  the  Lord's  Supper. 

Previous  to  the  Reformation  a  materialistic  aspect,  mixed  with  superstitious  elements, 
preponderated  in  theory  and  practice.  It  is  in  the  evangelical  conception,  in  the  simple 
biblical  sense  of  the  means  of  grace,  that  the  truth  of  the  unification  comes  to  its  right  and 
ample  presentation. 

The  laity  previous  to  the  Reformation,  unenlightened  by  the  living  word  and  by  the  self- 
interpreting  text  and  context,  were  by  the  formalism  of  the  cultus  ever  misled  into  the  of  the^acramenr*"  °° 
superstitions  of  the  natural  religion  of  heathendom ;  and  it  cannot  be  denied  that  even  pro- 
testantism was  not  entirely  purged  of  these  elements,  up  to  our  own  time.     Magic  powers 
were  attributed  to  dead  works  as  well  as  to  dead  things.    It  was  in  opposition  to  this  abuse  of  Differences 
the  sacrament  and  in  order  to  prevent  a  relapse  into  destructive  errors,  that  Zwingli,  abhor-  between  the  two 
ring  the  deification  of  created  things,  was  so  reluctant  to  assent  to  the  profound  relation  Evangelfsed      ^ 
between  natural  and  spiritual  entities.     Extolling  the  spiritual  side  at  the  expense  of  the  Church: 
natural  elements— upon  which  the  spirit  works  in  order  to  appropriate,  elevate,  assimilate, 
transform  and  spiritualise  nature — a  large  part  of  the  church  of  the  Reformation  more  or 
less  undervalued  the  significance  of  the  natural  concomitant  factors  in  the  means  of  grace. 
The  original  intention,  that  man  should  be  the  sole  instrumentality  for  this  work  of  spirit- 
ualising nature:  that  man  should  set  free  and  transform  and,  we  might  say,  redeem  the  con- 
fined life  of  nature  which  became  arrested  on  his  account,  wherein  a  large  part  of  his  ethical 
task  consists ;  and  the  truth,  that  nature  piossesses  sufEicient  aptitude  tobe  spiritually  affected 
so  as  to  be  elevated  accordingly  by  way  of  human  nature :  these  essential  truths— bearing  on 
the  completeness  of  Christian  hope  and  on  the  final  perfection  of  the  purpose  of  development 
—were  not  forgotten,  indeed,  by  the  Calvinistic  wing,  tho  rather  lost  sight  of  in  the  Zwinglian 
doctrine  of  the  sacrament,   and  were  considered  separately  by  the  Reformed  in  the  ethics 
which  they  were  the  first  to  cultivate. 

The  larger  part  of  the  German  protestants  took  the  glorified  body  of  the  Risen  Lord  as 
the  major  premise  in  the  explanation  of  the  sacramental  elements  and  insisted  upon  the 
"communicatio  idiomatum,"  i.  e.,  on  the  unification  of  spirit  and  nature — not  seldom  tending 
to  elevate  the  consubstantiated  bread  to  the  height  of  adoration,  whilst  neglecting  the  ethical 
discipline  of  the  natural  man  and  being  satisfied  with  his  dogmatical  assent. 

Under  this  polarity,  which  partly  may  be  accounted  for  by  slight  differences  of  the 
national  character,  the  two  sister-churches  of  the  Reformation  not  only  equipoised  and  com- 
plemented each  other  in  this  central  tenet,  but  also  approached  to  harmonious  cooperation  in 
the  measure  as  the  dogmatical  conception  was  elaborated  and  cogently  formulated.  In-  counterpoise  *** '^**'^ 
difference  on  either  side  with  respect  to  this  union  of  the  divine  life  with  the  human  would 
not  have  been  as  salutary  for  the  church  in  general,  as  the  occasional  controversies  have 
proved. 

Thanks  to  the  controversies  concerning  the  palladium  of  Christianity  all  hold  ^ew  perception 
now  in  common,  that  in  the  sacrament,  as  (in  one  respect)  the  memorial  of  "the"  sac-  cefestiai  form*of 
rifice,  the  contrast  between  Heaven  and  earth  is  overcome  like  that  between  body  and  ®^j^*fg^f^;ji,  ^he 
mind.    The  chasm  is  bridged  between  the  Infinite  and  the  finite  in  the  person  of  the  Srlcirreliity. 

®  *^  §  63,  64,  92,  119,  123, 

Mediator  Himself.    In  Him  the  Heavenly  and  the  natural  world  blend  and  are  uni-  ^">  152. 

fied.  Where  He  is  upon  earth  there  is  Heaven;  and  He  is  the  head  and  center  of  the 
church  militant  as  well  as  of  the  church  triumphant. 

Whenever  the  Mediator  causes  the  announcement:  "I  am  with  you  alway",this  "lam"  is 
concrete,  not  a  sublimated  abstraction ;  He  is  not  merely  representing  the  idea  of  divinity,  or 
of  spirit,  but  He  is  a  historical  person  as  which  He  continues  to  manifestHimself .    His  body  is 
not  dissolved  into  the  spacelessness  of  eternity,  but  is  and  remains  Deity  Incarnate  in  human- 
ity, and  is  glorified  in  the  model  human  form  which  He  deigned  to  assume  to  Himself.    The 
King  is  thus  present  with  His  people  at  the  appointed  place  in  spiritual-corporeal  reality.   At 
the  Lord's  table  Heaven  reaches  deep  into  the  human  world,   even  in  the  present  form  of 
existence.    Earthly  nature— along  with  the  glorification  of  the  human  body  in  which  it  cul-  Eternal  form  of 
minates  and  to  which  it  pertains— is  thus  impressed  with  the  divine  mark  of  its  final  destiny,  realised  inside  the 
In  the  midst  of  the  corruptible  and  solvable  world  we  have  the  pledge  of  becoming  incor-  natural  world  of  history. 
ruptible.    Since  we  are  assured  that  the  eternal  mode  of  existence  enters  into  historic  real- 
ity, the  limits  of  space— which  in  our  finite  mode  of  thought  seem  to  separate  our  world  from 
the  world  up  yonder— are  made  unessential  and  set  aside  in  so  far  as  to  form  no  hindrance 
for  the  ^irit  to  penetrate  nature  and  to  permeate  personal  life. 

Close  behind  the  thin  veil  of  the  visible  surroundings,  the  Heavenly  world  co- 
exists, and  tho  overlapping  it,  blends  with  our  own  physical  world.    This  Heavenly  Ancient  forms  of 
world  does  not,  as  mediaeval  scholasticism  imagined,  begin  beyond  the  stars  where  ^n^iä'ousness 
space  may  have  its  limits.    Thought  issuing  from  the  church  itself  has  thrown  down  foJ'e^e?*^ 
the  Ptolomseic  system  to  which  formerly  it  had  adapted  itself.     Theoretically,  at    **         * 
least,  the  ancient  form  of  world-consciousness  is  annihilated  beyond  reconstructibility. 


896 


Kthical  import  of  the 
reformed  oommunion. 


Personal 
freedom  guarded 
against  selfish 
separation  by 
virtue  of 
sacramental 
communion. 


Church  organism 
upheld. 


Evangelical 
freedom  not 
subjective 
itrariness. 


subje 
arbit 


No  human 
intercessions. 

§  139, 149, 

Direct  access  to  the 
Savior. 

Value  of  personality  on 
account  of  its  noble 
descent, 


One  sunk  ever  so  deep  is 
welcome  at  the 

"Feast  of  the  King". 


True  equality  practically 
demonstrated. 


Reappearance  of  the 
"King  of  the  common 
people". 

§  135.  136,  137,  139. 

in  "Bloodrelationship"' 
i.  e. 
"Blutsfreundschaft". 


Love  toward  fellow-men. 


Good  works  not 
meritorious;  receive 
their  value  from 
personal  character,  not 
the  character  from 
performance  ever  so 
solemn. 


THE  GREAT  UNIFICATION  TYPIFIED  AND  REALISED.  IE  G.KJH.  HL  §  159. 

§  159.  As  soon  as  the  theological  reform  of  the  sacrament  in  theory  and  nsuage 
became  evident  in  its  bearing  upon  the  church  as  a  visible  organisation,  the  ethical 
effects  of  the  dogmatical  reconstruction  in  its  bearings  upon  the  social  organism 
began  to  appear.  It  became  historically  manifest,  that  the  whole  fabric  of  the  papal 
theocracy,  the  hierarchal  "government  of  religion" ,  must  stand  or  fall  with  the 
papal  mass;  just  as  it  had  been  universally  felt,  that  "the  freedom  of  a  Christian"  de- 
pended upon  the  reform  of  the  Lord's  Supper.  In  the  sacrament  freedom  has  its 
stronghold,  and  with  the  reformed  administration  of  the  sacrament  the  ideal  of  free- 
dom was  replaced  upon  its  real  basis.  The  willful  arbitrariness  of  subjectivism  found 
its  corrective,  after  the  formative  thought  of  the  "Holy  Communion"  insured  the  or- 
ganical  connection  of  the  believers  in  Christ  into  a  churchly  corporation.  Thus  alone 
could  free  personal  life  be  held  together.  In  a  normal  manner,  and  quite  sufficient 
for  all  churchly  purposes  of  cooperation  and  reciprocal  sympathy,  the  thought  of  hu- 
manism was  thus  realised  in  the  maintenance  of  an  organic  whole,  and  in  consti- 
tuting a  spiritual-corporeal  community.  The  Kingdom  of  Heaven  upon  earth  in  the 
sense  of  the  New  Covenant  became  reestablished,  in  which  the  individual  member 
trustingly  submits  his  entire  being  to  the  government  of  one  central  will. 

Being  embodied  in  the  mystical  body  of  the  glorified  Head  the  Christian  finds  the 
anticipations  of  his  own  destiny  affirmed,  just  as  it  is  impressed  upon  his  entire 
nature  and  inherent  in  his  innermost  soul.  Agreeing  with  this  divine  design,  the 
will  of  the  Christian  becomes  determined  to  conform  the  entire  ego  to  this  destiny, 
that  is,  to  persist  voluntarily  in  the  course  to  perfection.  Thus  man  becomes  free 
indeed  and  in  truth:  whilst  at  the  same  time  society  is  protected  against  the  disin- 
tegration of  which  it  is  in  peril  from  arbitrary  and  tyrannical  subjectivism,  and 
against  libertinism,  the  caricature  of  freedom.  In  the  Son  of  God,  the  "express 
image"  of  the  Father's  personality,  the  divine  "likeness"  of  man  became  recognisable 
again  to  men. 

From  behind  the  host  of  saints— personifyinar  the  "thesaurus  supererogationis," 
i.  e.  the  treasury  of  meritorious  works  in  proxy  for  those  who  pay  cash  for  indulgences, 
— the  personal  God  was  brought  near  to  man  again;  or  rather  man  was  personally 
brought  back  face  to  face  with  the  sole  Mediator,  so  as  to  regain  the  direct  access  to 
his  Savior.  Only  thus  the  cognition  of  man's  personal  and  immediate  responsibility, 
the  self  consciousness  of  his  value  on  account  of  his  noble  descent:  in  short  his  free- 
dom was  restored  and  fully  warranted  to  him,  notwithstanding  his  sinfulness.  The 
most  miserable  outcast  is  precious  in  the  sight  of  the  Redeemer  who  shed  His  blood 
for  the  wretched;  for  such  are  especially  invited,  sought  and  reclaimed.  Sunk  ever  so 
deep  they  are  taken  account  of  as  divine  descendants,  and  are  welcomed  at  the  feast 
of  the  King— whilst  those  ashamed  of  such  company  are  rebuked  for,  and  humiliated 
in,  their  pride.  Indeed  it  is  a  marvelous  community  in  which  the  idea  of  humanity 
is  realised  in  such  a  manner,  that  kings  and  beggars  stand  equal  at  the  baptismal 
font,  around  the  Lord's  table,  and  at  the  grave. 

To  the  Germanic  people  in  the  first  place,  again  appeared  the  "King  of  the  Com- 
mon People"  who  at  one  time  had  been  depicted  to  them  in  the  "Heliand,"  to  whom 
their  ancestors  had  consecrated  themselves  and  whom  they  had  vowed  to  serve,  not 
with  fear  and  in  a  servile  spirit,  but  with  manliness  and  a  cheerful  heart— not  to  earn 
wages  but  in  return  of  thanks.  With  Him  they  had  entered  into  blood-kinship, 
hence  they  considered  themselves  to  constitute  a  "Blutsfreundschaft." 

In  this  practical  way  alone  may  the  cardinal  principle  of  general  love  to  fellow- 
men  be  proclaimed  in  its  full  sense,  and  established  in  its  binding  force.  One  of  the 
Apostles  derives  brotherly  love  from  the  love  of  God;  the  other  demonstrates  how  from 
the  love  toward  the  Christian  brother  philanthropy  in  general  wells  up.  To  the 
poorest  a  task  is  apportioned  which  to  accomplish  is  not  beyond  his  ability:  to  assist 
in  the  happiness  or  in  the  rescue  of  some  one,  by  doing  which  he  will  become  cheered 
and  himself  enriched. 

In  the  institution  of  the  sacrament  and  the  order  of  its  administration  the  error 
is  provided  against,  as  tho  man  could  accomplish  his  task,  the  exercise  of  humanism, 
by  the  mere  joining  of  church  or  societies,  or  by  participating  in  solemn  rites,  or  by 
the  performance  of  patriotic  acts.  Such  may  all  be  considered  as  sacred,  or  as  ethical 
at  least  in  themselves,  but  they  cannot  make  the  actor  holy.     An  act  or  work  is  not 


JLl  (t.  CH.  m.  §  159.  ETHICS  AS  INDIVIDUALLY  AND  SOCIALLY  APPLIED.  297 

to  be  severed  henceforth  from  the  person,  from  intention  or  sentiment.     In  order  to  as  "fruits  of  the  tre«" 
have  any  merit  or  value  whatever,  good  works  must  be  products  of  organic-spiritual  forLlSi^'!**  occwioa 
life  and  of  unsophisticated  thankfulness  to  the  beloved  Savior.      As  the  fruits  of  the 
"tree"  they  afford  no  occasion  for  pride  and  ostentation, — for  Qharisseism. 

The  return  to  true  Christian  ethics,  then,  consisted  in  this:    That  personality  was  no  superabundance  of 
so  highly  estimated,  that  a  "good  work"  because  having  no  value  in  itself,  received  ^rcVupTrp,l^chLe 
its  value  from  the  person.    And  that  man  can  neither  hide  behind  the  generality  of  Ss.'"^  ^  scheduled 
the  church  or  the  prevalence  of  general  sinfulness,  nor  compensate  for  the  neglect  of  Return  to  true 
duty  by  the  enforcement  of  ritualistic  performances  or  by  the  purchase  of  indul-  ethics, 
gencies  catalogued  in  a  scheduled  tariff.    But  that,  on  the  contrary,  personal  life  re-  suppi'r'demonstratLg' 
quires  a  personal  religiousness  which  is  enjoined  upon  each  one  for  himself,  so  that  unity  in  diversity. 
life  itself  will  remind  him  of  his  duties,  and  of  the  fact  that  sin  works  out,— on  the  *  ^'  **'  "* 

line  of  natural  and  ethical  law  in  their  correlation,— its  own  retribution:    That  each  SbuUdi^^goTthech-^ch 
one  is  to  examine  for  himself ,— in  the  absence  of  a  conscience  by  proxy  in  safe  keep-  In  unTfofiiuy*ör~'"** 
ing  of  the  church,— what  the  church  offers  without  forcing  it  upon  any  one;  and  that  ''"'"^'^  conformity. 
each  one  is  to  work  out  his  own  obligations.     That  each  member  becomes  a  colaborer  The  world  not  of 

°  ...  .a  value  so  mean 

in  the  upbuilding  of  the  church,  for  the  purpose  of  which  unity  does  not  consist  in  as  to  be  avoided 
uniformity,  but  in  which  edification  the  sacrament  preserves  this  unity  in  diversity,  conceived  as 

As  it  is  with  the  relation  of  the  individual  to  the  church,  so  does  personality,  the  ethical 
filled  with  the  thought  of  selfdiscipline  and  responsibility,  gradually  adjust  its  rela-  ^p|^''8*39^'4i  h^ 
tions  to  the  state  and  to  the  complex  conditions  of  the  natural  world.  This  world  is 
not  of  a  value  so  mean  as  to  be  avoided  or  to  be  disdainfully  looked  upon.      It  is  to  be  environments  man 
overcome  in  its  resistance  to  cultivation  through  mental  activity  and  under  self  denial,  ^^"^  °^' 
so  that  by  elevating  the  environment  we  develop  our  own  nature.      In  the  pursuit  of  ?f^?iTif  Ln"d  teolwS*.'' 
this  ethical  purpose  at  the  ethical  apparatus  each  work  receives  its  own  dignity,  be-  occupation  and 
cause  it  assists  in  keeping  order  for  the  welfare  of  the  whole  and  contributes  to  final  ""''rTa  et  labora») 
glorification.    No  longer  does  contemplative  quietism  or  a  life  evasive  of  the  trials  "/e.*" ''°'"'"' '''  *''"'* 
and  troubles  of  this  world  receive  higher  esteem,  than  manual  labor  or  an  aspiring  pomain  of  duties  of«.« 
business  occupation.    Both  contemplation  and  emulative  activity,  prayer  and  labor,  c^^^Ps^ribä^ 
are  to  pervade  each  other  and  become  blended  as  in  the  case  of  spirit  and  body.  Heaven 
and  earth. 

Tobe  sure,  the  state  is  also  promptly  limited  now  to  its  particular  domain  of  inthespiritnai 
duty.    The  basis  of  all  political  economy,  of  public  order  and  of  justice  is  duly  re-  with  theLkm'ifÄf 
cognisedjtho  not  everywhere  adhered  to.    It  is  the  rule:  "Render  unto  Cesar  the  things  communion. 
that  are  Cesar's,  and  unto  God  the  things  that  are  God's."    This  word  gives  govern- 
ment its  authority,  especially  as  to  the  protection  of  freedom  of  conscience  against 
every  pretext  of  theocratic  rule.    By  the  spiritual  discipline  necessarily  connected  Separation  of 
with  the  solemn  act  of  communion  the  state-church  is  rendered  as  much  an  anomaly  eccieSastica™ 
as  a  church-state.    The  experiences  of  a  thousand  years,  in  which  the  Christians  government, 
under  these  forms  of  government  had  become  persecutors  where  they  formerly  would 
rather  suffer  persecution  themselves,  had  taught  them  the  monstrosity  of  such  inhu-  under  pretext  of 
man  practices  in  the  name  of  God.    Church  and  state  will  best  serve  each  other  for  mo^tro^uies  of 
mutual  benefit,  if  each  remains  independent  of  the  other  in  carrying  out  the  obliga-  p"  rp^tSTn  tL  nam« 
tions  appointed  to  either  in  its  peculiar  sphere.    The  protest  of  Spire  as  amended  by  °    " 
the  "Augsburg  Confession"  A.  D.  1529, 1530,  was  the  first  charter  of  real  selfgovernment.  JJe "  «^p«"*°"^  '^^  *« 

The  variety  of  denominations  is  not  so  great  an  evil  as  has  been  alleged.    That  was 
rather    necessary  to  keep  up  energy  for  continuing  in  the  great  movement  under  self-  the  first  charter 
criticism  and    emulative   efforts.     Under   the   circumstances    as  they  are,  resulting  from  of  independance. 
historical   conditions,   each  of  these    denominational  sister-churches  brings   her   peculiar 
charisms  to  full  development  to  the  enrichment  of  all  the  others.    The  keeping  house  of  each  Variety  of 
by  herself  does  not  necessarily  involve  them  in  animosities,  and  in  a  near  future  may  en-   denominations 
hance  the  influence  of  their  unanimity  as  to  essentials.    For  the  sake  of  service  to  the  world  J^ot  a  great  evil, 
in  the  way  of  its  Christianisation  the  particularism  in  church-affairs  is  preferable  to  an  arti-  unification  of 
flcial  unification  with  a  view  to  gain  dominion  and  power.  K^?*""i'i""°°^„*!.fo!.''^f  ** 

"  ^  .  .       .      .1    J    but  not  for  purposes  of 

This  is  not  to  say,  however,  that  the  tendency  toward  church-union  was  not  to  be  hailed  power. 
with  satisfaction  as  a  promising  sign  of  the  times.  But  that  the  most  adequate  and  most  effective 
means  toward  this  end  will  be,  partly  pressure  from  outside,  and  partly  cooperation  in  the 
•work  of  evangelisation  without  pride  and  without  envy.  The  highpriestly  prayer  offered  in 
the  night  of  the  first  communion,  so  closely  related  to  the  institution  of  the  Lord's  Supper» 
clearly  indicates  the  direction  in  which  the  church  is  to  proceed  in  order  to  comply  with  the 
last  earthly  wishes  of  our  Lord. 


298 


Reform  of  the 
celebration  of  the 
sacrament  and 

aesthetics. 


Valuation  and  proper 
use  of  the  secondary 
good  as  consecrated  to, 
and  designed  for,  the 
realm  of  glory. 


Art  of  painting. 


Raphael. 
Duerer. 


Tocal  music ; 

German  choral. 


Luther  the  genuine  type 
of  German  character. 

DOELLIMOER. 


Interest  in  the  history  of 
the  fatherland 
awakened. 

Taste  for  venerable 
customs  cultivated. 

Wittenbergr  and 
Magdeburg-  had 
chairs  of 
national  history. 

As  study  was  made 
attractive  and  song 
useful, 

Labor 

in  all  branches  was 

rendered 
honorable. 

§  162,  136, 139,  222. 

Science  as  well  as 
industry  invigorated. 

People  bold  to  believe 
that  eternal  truth  needs 
no  human  props,  nor 
were  they  afraid  of 
innovations. 

Art  of  printing. 

Koran  printed  at  Basil. 

Products  of  the  printing 
pre.ss  circulated  rapidly 
enough. 

Honasticism  and  right 
of  possession. 

Communism 

of  monasteries 

$  68,  124,  144. 

not  chargeable 
to  the 
Reformation, 

tho  endeavors  were 
made  to  transfer 
communistic  ideas  into 
Protestant  territory. 

Attempts  to  transform 
society  into  communistic 
association. 


AESTHETICS  EVANGELISED.  II.  G.  Ch.  Ill  §  160. 

§  160.  Equal  with  the  bearing  of  the  reform  of  the  Lord's  Supper  upon  ethics, 
tho  not  of  the  same  importance,  was  the  influence  exerted  upon  aesthetics,  upon  the 
realm  of  the  beautiful,  and  upon  the  arts  and  sciences.  For  also  in  this  respect  the 
natural  was  here  rehabilitated  in  its  proper  position  and  valuation;  since  by  the  Refor- 
mation it  was  not  made  obligatory  to  piety  identifying  "lust  of  the  eye"  with  the  pleas- 
ure derived  from  the  forms  of  beauty  in  nature.  The  gospel  does  not  in  thin  sense 
advise  or  prescribe  a  deadening  of  what  is  humane  and  beautiful  in  the  realm  of  the 
secondary  good.  It  is  much  more  expected,  that  the  natural  shall  be  transfigured 
into  the  incorruptible  splendor  of  the  realm  of  glory.  For,  ethically  understood,  and 
under  proper  use,  the  natural  is  consecrated  to  become  the  vehicle  of  the  spiritual. 
Thus  from  beginning  to  end  Heaven  and  earth  are  brought  into  close  relationship. 

The  Madonnas  of  Raphael  belong  essentially  to  the  eera  of  the  Reformation.  When  Duerer 
conceived  his  figure  of  Paul  in  the  year  1526,  he  undoubtedly  wanted  to  represent  the  knight 
of  the  New  Covenant,  who  liberated  the  Christian  from  the  shackles  of  Judaistic-Roman 
legalism,  and  in  a  valorous  mood  defended  his  freedom. 

What  a  powerful  impulse  was  given  to  the  cause  of  humanism  in  the  Protestant 
choral.  It  was  the  trumpet  sound  for  the  German  nation  to  rise.  By  this  choral  the 
fixed  cadences  of  the  Gregorian  melodies  soon  became  antiquated;  in  fact  the  whole 
liturgical  order  of  worship  prescribed  by  Rome  was  overthrown  from  Switzerland 
to  Scotland.  When  a  nation  rises  for  liberty,  it  is  not  customary  that  it  should 
march  up  as  for  parade;  and  the  German  temper  was  never  accustomed  to  niceties, 
when  issue  had  to  be  joined  on  questions  of  ideal  import. 

As  to  the  spiritual  warfare  Luther  least  of  all  would  advise  the  softness  of  indecision. 
Yet  he  displayed  wisdom  in  guiding  the  Reformation  into  temperate  methods  of  advance,  as 
for  instance  when  the  iconoclasts  went  to  extremes.  Doellinger  describes  Luther  as  the 
genuine  type  of  the  German  character ;  and  in  this  capacity  the  great  reformer  was  conserva- 
tive in  matters  of  fine  arts. 

Interest  was  awakened  in  the  early  history  of  the  fatherland.  The  antiquities  as 
witnesses  of  the  remote  past  rose  in  esteem,  whereby  national  consciousness  became 
revived  and  the  taste  for  venerable  customs  stimulated.  As  in  Cambridge,  where 
Whitaker  had  given  similar  impulse,  so  was  national  history  made  a  special  study 
in  Wittenberg  and  Magdeburg.  The  treasures  of  old  national  songs  and  epics  became 
thus  unearthed  and  were  turned  to  good  account  in  the  exercise  of  patriotism. 

Of  much  greater  importance,however,is  the  fact,that  not  only  singing  and  studying 
were  made  attractive  and  useful,  but  that  labor  in  all  its  branches  was  rendered 
honorable  once  more,  since  the  double  set  of  ethics— one  for  the  "spiritual"  profession 
(die  Geistlichkeit)  the  other  for  the  profane  people — had  been  abolished,  Opportuni- 
ties were  given  to  industry  and  the  sciences  to  bud  out  in  every  direction.  People 
grew  bold  enough  to  trust  that  the  eternal  truth  needs  no  human  props  nor  to  be  afraid 
of  innovations,  since  in  the  end  everything  must  be  conducive  to  its  triumph.  The 
distribution  of  all  that  was  worthy  to  be  known  had  free  course. 

In  Basil  the  Koran  was  printed.  From  the  pulpits  they  preached  against  it.  Luther 
praised  the  undertaking,  saying  that  the  wounds  must  be  kept  open  in  order  to  be  healed 
from  within. 

With  regard  to  the  art  of  printing,  new  publications  of  smaller  caliber  were  cir- 
culated rapidly  enough  to  furnish  a  basis  upon  which  the  press  was  destined  to  grow 
into  a  powerful  factor  of  civilisation.  The  value  of  personal  property  was  rendered 
derisive  by  the  Roman  guides  to  holiness;  in  those  ethics  exhibited  in  the 'regula- 
tions of  monastic  life,  the  right  to  private  possession  was  completely  denied.  The 
cloisters  propagated  a  predilection  for  communistic  living  whereby  the  individual 
disappears  in  the  order.  This  trait  of  orientalism  was  detrimental  to  labor,  inas- 
much as  in  such  arrangements  the  stimulating  impulse  of  enjoying  the  fruits  of  per- 
sonal exertion  does  no  longer  animate  the  laborer  under  the  imperative  rule  of  a 
communistic  oligarchy. 

The  socialistic  enthusiasts  of  that  time,  in  their  endeavors  and  boisterous  experiments  to 
transplant  communistic  ideas  into  the  domain  of  Protestantism,  and  to  transform  society  ac- 
cordingly, only  protracted  the  old  Asiatic-Roman  world-theory,  which  holds  the  individual 
simply  to  be  a  tool  in  the  fabric  of  the  state,  as  a  thing  bar.e  of  any  purpose  except  that  of  the 
communistic  whole. 


n  G.  CH.  in.  §  16L       PROTESTANTISM  IN  ITS  DENOMINATIONAL  DIVERSITY.  290 

At  the  end  of  the  15th.  and  the  begrinninsr  of  the  16th.  century,  that  is,  prior  to  the  relig-  Peasants'  wars. 
ious  rising,  the  white  and  blue  flag  with  a  picture  of  Christ  was  rebelliously  raised  in  Alsace 
and  as  by  a  storm  carried  from  village  to  village.    It  was  a  recollection  of  the  Jacquerie  and 
of  the  rise  in  Switzerland,  where  the  peasants  in  similar  forms  demonstrated  their  grievances 
—the  same  grievances  which  now  infuriated  the  repressed  and  outlawed  serfs  and  journeymen 
in  the  country-districts.    That  flag  was  the  storm-signal  of  a  movement  which  had  no  other 
connection  with  theReformation,  than  that  it  was  caused  by  the  exactions  of  those  "spiritual" 
superiors    who    held    the    tenures    upon    which    those    peasants  were   made   to    toil.    A 
social  reconstruction  was  felt  to  be  unavoidable.    In  Suabia  the  fraternity  of  "poor  Cunrad"  Necessity  for  "symbols 
constituteditself  under  the  sign  of  the  "Bund-schuh."  The  peasants"  war  terrorised  Frankonia  nberty^   to  shelter  true 
and  Thuringia ;  it  spread  from  the  Yosges  to  the  Carpathian  mountains.    Up  to  1525  A.  D. 
one  hundred  and  sixty  six  castles  were  destroyed,  and  Thuringia  alone  counted  three  hundred 
monasteries  in  ruins.    Then  came  the  Anabaptists,  who  made  common  cause  with  the  des- 
perate peasants,  establishing  such  communistic  municipalities  as  Nordhausen,  Muensteretc- 
To  the  right  and  to  the  left  caricatures  of  freedom  sprang  up. 

Safely  through  the  tempests  of  such  a  season  of  history  the  treasure  of  true  lib-  General  features 
erty  could  be  carried  only  in  the  shrines  of  the  confessions,  those  "Symbols  of  the  Reformation. 
Faith"  arranged  by  the  reformers,  adopted  by  the  denominations,  deliberated  upon  in 
the  diets,  and  laid  before  the  world. 

§  161.    Let  us  take  a  review  of  the  whole  movement   in  connection  with  its  Protestantism 
starting  points,  and  of  the  new  developments  ensuing,  which  so  far  have  been  out-  promulgating 
lined.    Emil  de  Laveleye  philosophised  upon  Catholicism  and  Protestantism  as  to  iequlskes  for 
their  bearings  upon  the  liberty  of  the  respective  nations.    He  concedes  the  palm  to  political  liberty. 
Protestantism,  because  of  its  preferable  maxims  having  molded  personal  character    ""  ''"'  '""de^lavblkye. 
and  selfreliance,  personal  responsibility  and  selfgovernment— the  chief  requisites 
of  political  liberty. 

Since  this  is  acknowledged,  Protestantism  is  expected  not  to  go  back  on  the  J? SS Ä  iLms"''**''''* 
principle  of  its  origin;  and  the  Protestants  ought  not  to  shrink  from  real  religious 
tolerance  and  liberty.    They  ought  to  manifest  suflacient  faith  in  Christianity,  that 
neither  materialism,  nor  criticism,  nor  sectarianism  can  harm  it  in  any  way.    It  can 
not  hurt  Christianity  if  her  teachers  are  stirred  up,  or  her  denominations  urged  on  to 
continue  in  the  process  of  purification.    By  force  of  the  cardinal  principle  underly-  Religious 
ing  their  own  existence  the  Protestants  are  compelled  to  give  room  to  as  many  in-  ^\^out  ^ 
ternal  schools  and  denominations  at  least  as  Catholicism  grants  to  the  tendencies  of  indifference, 
widely  differing  orders.    Protestantism  can  afford  to  be  as  undaunted  against  the  Division  of  labor, 
irreligious  adversaries  outside  of  its  organism,  as  tolerant  to  the  larger  or  smaller 
sects  inside  its  pales,  which  hold  the  fundamental  tenets  of  Christianity  in  common. 
The  denominational  diversity  is  not  only  a  sign  of  progress  but  its  condition. 

Bodin,  the  advocate  of  the  Huguenots,  had  already  emphasised  this  in  his  colloqui  with  seven  Differentiation  m 
representatives  of  religious  parties,  written  in  apology  for  tolerance.  He  argues  that  the  universal  law. 
existence  of  different  sects  is  conducive  to  peace  in  a  State.  With  only  two  great  parties  a 
State  is  ever  in  danger  of  a  religious  war,  whilst  many  parties  at  variance  hold  each  other  in 
check.  In  the  interest  of  the  Church  itself  such  mutual  recognition  is  wholesome,  since  the 
developments  take  the  same  course  in  spiritual  matters  as  in  nature,  where  differentiation 
goes  on  everywhere:  the  higher  the  functional  capabilities  advance  in  the  scale  of  the  organic 
world,  the  more  is  labor  divided. 

In  the  evolution  of  nature  one  part  after  another  became,  most  probably,  detached  from  soiar  system  on  analogy 
a  revolving  globe  because  of  the  vehement  swing  of  its  revolutions.  Left  to  its  own  whirling 
course  each  part  and  subdivision  rounded  off  itself,  and  joined  the  general  concourse.  Thus  a 
sun-system  arranged  itself,  as  we  see  it  every  night,  moving  upon  the  hinges  of  binding  and 
balancing  forces,  a  wealth  of  forces  which  only  lay  dormant  in  the  uniform  mass  of  the  original 
ball.  In  an  analogous  manner  the  diverse  denominations,  now  spread  over  the  whole  earth, 
disengaged  themselves  from  the  Church  of  the  Middle- Ages  with  its  wealth  of  latent  spiritual 
incipiencies. 

The  analogy  in  respect  to  the  development  in  the  domain  of  the  church  corres-  church  divisions 
ponds  to  the  law  of  colonisation  and  emancipation,  the  workings  of  which  are  illus-  arpl.mi'caiVyTw^^^ 
trated  in  the  instance  of  Greece,  recurring  in  church-history  only  on  a  higher  scale. 
When  the  mother-countries  were  unable  to  entertain  the  growing  and  crowding 
constituents,  they  emigrated  and  started  households  of  their  own.  It  is  when  the 
home-government,  from  fear  of  losing  control,  begins  to  become  oppressive,  that 
colonies  will  declare  themselves  independent.  Every  separation  causes  distress. 
Attempts  made  to  frustrate  the  independency  of  new  social  formations  generally 
strengthen  their  establishment,  if  they  are  ripe  for  liberty.  If  the  parent-society 
22 


colonial  detachment. 


doo 


<jtood  results  from 
division  of  labor  upon 
the  field  of  Christian 
activity. 


Narrow  conceptions  of 
the  Kingdom  of  God. 


Relation  of  the 
denominations  to  one 
another  and  to  the 
Kingdom  of  God. 


Extent  of  the  Kingdom  ] 
of  Heaven. 


The  commotions  bring 
to  the  surface  filthy 
sediments  with  the 
pearls. 


Deficiencies  of 
Protestantism. 


Calvinism  cultivated 
ethics  for  reasons  of 
resistance  to  despotic 
persecutions; 

pure  morals. 

Germany's  failure  to 
support  Holland  at  the 
proper  time  cost  it  the 
"thirty  years  war''. 

1175, 

Man's  thoughts  more 
influenced  by  his  deeds, 
than  his  deeds  by 
theories.  Fr.  Jacobi^ 

Lutheranism  emphasises 

purity  of 
doctrine. 

Ethical  issues  of  the 
Reformation 

vested  with  the 
crown,  §  175. 

whereby  not  only 
ecclesiastical  vitality  but 
even  religious  life  was 
frequently  stifled. 

The  thought  of 
humanism  developing 
despite  impediments. 


KINGDOM  OF  GOD  AND  STATE-CHUBCHISM.         II  G.  CH.  III.  §  162. 

understands  the  situation,  it  will  not  become  weakened  by  releasing  its  offspring. 
On  the  contrary,  every  new  departure  will  enhance  the  advantages  gained  by  the 
variety  of  interrelations  and  the  modifications  caused  thereby. 

Every  healthy  development  of  a  nation  will  aid  in  the  establishment  of  a  system  of  cohe- 
rent nationalities  upon  earth.  So  every  one  of  the  historically  developed  denominations,  if 
energetically  aspiring  for  the  dignity  of  deserving  recognition,  will  eventually  serve  the 
cause  of  the  church  in  general.  If  every  street  of  the  New- Jerusalem,  that  is  to  say,  each 
division  of  the  Church  universal,  faithfully  exercises  the  gifts  peculiar  to  it,  and  elaborates  a 
particular  side  of  the  truth,  then  each  contributes  to  the  realisation  of  a  system  of  organic- 
ally connected  denominations  upon  earth.  Then  it  will  be  generally  apprehended  that  Chris- 
tianity does  not  mean  earthly  dominion  in  any  shape,  but  means  service  to  the  world  without 
conformity  to  it.  This  is  no  strange  idea.  It  is  but  the  legitimate  application  of  the  thought 
of  the  Kingdom  of  God  under  which  all  are  embraced,  and  from  which  to  exclude  another,  no 
church  has  the  power. 

The  thought  of  this  spiritual  Kingdom  of  Heaven  had  become  so  narrow,  that 
Rome  as  well  as  the  Greek  patriarchs  each  claimed  to  be  entitled  to  represent  it  ex- 
clusively. 

This  narrow  view  of  the  Kingdom  of  Heaven  must  become  widened  to  the  scope 
of  humaneness.  This  Kingdom  ought  to  be  perceived  as  a  thought  so  grand  and  pre- 
vailing as  that  each  of  the  denominations  upon  earth  will  become  magnanimous 
enough  to  waive  its  hegemony  on  grounds  of  priority,  or  higher  purity,  and  to  aban- 
don the  self  conceited  opinion  of  its  own  inf  alliblity,  and  exclusive  right  to  represent 
or  establish  this  kingdom.  Then  each  section  will  content  itself  with  the  conscious- 
ness of  being  an  active  member  of  the  whole,  subservient  to  the  best  interests  of 
each  and  all,  giving  all  honor  to  God  alone.  This  was  the  motive  of  the  Germanic 
people  during  the  reformatory  period. 

It  is  to  be  deplored  that  the  movement,  nevertheless,  frequently  took  a  course  of 
rude  violence.  Inasmuch  as  Germany  took  the  leading  part  the  perturbations  there 
threw  up  a  mass  of  filthy  residue  along  with  the  precious  pearls. 

Even  in  Rome  itself,  however,  it  could  not  have  been  any  better.  Hence  it  is  unneces- 
sary to  hesitate  with  our  acknowledgment  of  the  truth  as  presented  in  the  "Historic- Politi- 
cal papers"  or  in  Janssen's  work.  The  kernel  of  development,  from  which  we  observed  the 
rough  hulls  and  crude  dross  to  fall  off,  remains  the  sound  core  of  advancing  civilisation, 
nevertheless. 

It  is  in  the  nature  of  development  that  the  hulls  can  not  be  dispensed  with  until 
the  fruits  become  ripe,  just  as  every  success  upon  earth  is  conditioned  by  wearing 
out,  and  working  itself  through,  its  enwrappings. 

§  162.  Protestantism  unravelled  the  intricacies  of  alien  thoughts  which  had  en- 
crusted the  gospel  of  salvation;  it  wrought  out  its  clear  apprehension,  its  proper  ap- 
preciation, and  pointed  out  the  simple  order  of  its  appropriation. 

It  was  unfortunate  that  in  one  section  of  the  Protestant  Church  the  applications  of  sal- 
vation in  its  practical  and  ethical  bearings  upon  matters  of  political  economy  and  social  life 
were  insuflBciently  considered.  Politically  Calvinism  found  conditions  in  the  countries  where 
itspread,  far  different  from  those  of  Germany.  Under  French  duplicity  and  intrigues,  and 
under  Spanish  despotism  social  problems  had  to  be  handled  practically.  Germany  had  to 
suffer  the  "thirty  years  war"  for  leaving  Holland  in  the  lurch  in  its  decisive  struggle  against 
''the  council  of  blood,"  along  with  Metz  it  lost  Alsace  and  Lothringia  for  going  into  league 
with  the  perpetrators  of  the  "bloody  marriage."  The  Reformed  everywhere  were  forced  into 
selfdefence  and  into  practically  working  out  ethics  as  well  as  dogmatics  in  order  to  demon- 
strate the  legitimate  cause  of  their  strained  relations  to  rulers  who  were  tools  of  Rome. 

What  Fr.  Jacobi  wrote  to  Hamann  is  true:  "that  man's  thoughts  are  more  inhuenced 
by  his  deeds,  than  his  deeds  by  his  theories."  Hence  the  Reformed  nations  were  led  to  be 
more  concerned  about  PURE  morals  and  political  liberty;  whilst  the  Lutherans  kept  up 
dogmatical  controversies  and  reared  a  church  of  theologians.  They  kept  the  laity  out  of 
representative  Church-government,  and  being  more  concerned  about  pure  doctrine,  they 
cared  little  for  participating  in  political  affairs,  and  for  personally  aiding  in  the  reform  of 
public  life.  The  Lutheran  Church  of  Germany  has  to  blame  herself  for  the  retardation  it  had 
to  sustain  under  an  external  embodiment  of  the  ethical  issues  of  the  religious  emancipation 
in  the  person  of  the  "Landes- Yater"  as  the  supreme  overseer  of  the  church.  This  fallacy  not 
only  checked  the  progress  of  political  freedom  and  selfreliance,  but  also  crippled  the  relig- 
ious growth  in  many  dry  seasons.  Notwithstanding  the  onesidedness  and  defect  of  Luther- 
anism, at  first  so  reluctant  to  accommodate  itself  to  the  Calvinistic  complement.  Protestantism 
on  the  whole  represents  the  river  bed  in  which  the  deep  and  broad  thought  of  humanism  was 
flowing  through  the  nations,  and, borne  across  the  oceans,  reached  out  a  helping  hand  to 
humanity  the  world  over. 


of  missions. 


II  G.  Ch.  IV.  g  1()3.  FOREBODINGS  OF  THE  AGE  OF  MISSIONS.  301 

The  application  of  the  thought  of  humanism  in  the  practice  of  clear  Christian  ethics 
more  than  once  had  to  rush  through  narrow  canyons,  and  under  the  overhanging  rocks  of 
fanaticism ;  it  has  been  thrown  down  many  a  rugged  cataract.  Many  a  liberal  minded  man 
mistrusted  a  church,  in  which  the  thought  of  apostolic  love  to  fellow-men  could  again  become 
concealed  under  hot,  dogmatical  conflicts  not  only  on  paper. 

The  churches  engaged  with  dogmatics  almost  always  neglect  the  exercise  of  broth-  Forebodings  of  the  age 
erly  love.   Lutheranism  lost  sight  of  it  to  such  an  extent,  that  it  became  unable  to  sur- 
mount its  political  bias.    Instead  of  hurrying  to  the  rescue  of  an  outlawed  sister- 
church,  or  a  nation  doomed  to  extirpation,  it  left  brethren  in  perils  like  those  which 
drove  the  non-conformists  to  extremes. 

But  notwithstanding  such  predicaments,  perhaps  even  on  account  of  them,  the  Mutua*  recognition  ef 
thought  of  humanism  broke  forth  from  the  depths  of  the  Germanic  faithfulness  to  dlnomlSons. 
the  "Captain  of  their  salvation".  As  Hermann  the  Cheruskian  of  yore  had  broken 
the  shackles  of  Roman  despotism  at  the  beginning  of  German  history,  so  a  Thuring- 
ian  broke  them  again  at  the  commencement  of  the  new  sera.  The  cause  of 
Humanism  is  indestructible,  irresistible:  the  thought  of  it  developed  under  pressure 
a  glow  of  prayer  and  spiritual  valor  the  more  intensified,  inasmuch  as  it  now  more 
than  ever  contained  the  force,  the  experience,  and  the  determination  to  transform 
the  world  in  all  its  relations,  and  in  its  widest  compass. 

Centuries  had  been  necessary  for  the  thought  of  humanism,  as  compared  to  a 
stream,  gathering  up  its  small  tributaries  which  from  different  and  frequently  oppo- 
site directions,  came  down  the  mountains  of  the  Waldensians  and  Lollards  along  Resume  and  prospect, 
the  quiet  valleys  of  mysticism  and  separatism.  The  herterogeneous  elements  carried 
along  by  these  rivulets  became  solidified  by  following  their  affinities,  and  sank  to 
the  bottom.  Other  elements  in  the  same  drift  and  working  in  the  common  ethical 
and  final  purpose  of  liberation,  denied  each  other  mutual  recognition,  nevertheless, 
but  they  became  purged  of  their  impurities  in  the  process. 

We  have  anticipated,  and  hence  may  have  become  somewhat  unintelligible.  For 
the  present  we  sum  up  this  as  the  result  of  our  survey:  The  Renaissance  and  the 
Reformation  evince  the  guidance  by  the  hand  from  on  high,  which  prepared  the  con- 
dition, and  provided  the  opportunities,  and  utilised  factors  so  remote,  that  the  way  in 
which  they  were  directed  towards  and  concentrated  upon  a  definite  scope  remained 
hidden  until  a  long  time  post  eventum.  But  it  was  just  then  and  there— when  the  di^ineVidTnce"''  *' 
complications  seemed  to  accumulate  into  an  inextricable  coil  of  confusion— that  his- 
tory advanced  with  one  step  so  far  as  to  defy  comparison  with  all  the  progress  made  in 
the  preceding  thousand  years  and  more.  The  gift  vouchsafed  and  enveloped  in  these 
commotions  is  of  such  exquisite  preciousness,  that  as  Gervinus  said,  "it  took  humaaily 
several  additional  centuries  to  accustom  itself  to  the  renovations". 

Under  high  pressure  and  the  old  polar  tension,  humanism  was  wrought  out  anew,  wrung 
from  the  most  exorbitant  measures  of  wild  warfare  and  blood-thirsty  fanaticism,  and  is  now 
enjoyed  by  the  Protestant  nations. 

No  more  time  should  be  lost  for  practical  proof  of  the  appreciation  of  that  which  had 
been  given  and  regained  under  self  exertions  to  the  extent  of  sacrificing  all  earthly  goods  for 
the  sake  of  the  Gospel. 

Much  less  since  it  is  in  the  nature  of  humaneness  to  multiply  the  enjoyment  by  sharing  advalltages^wlth  those  at 
liberation,  for  instance,  with  others.    Should  not  regained  Christianity  be  shared  with  those  ^^^^^P^^^'  p"'^  "'  *''** 
who  suffer  none  theless  under  depressing  strains  because  of  their  living  at  the  other  pole  of 

the  tension  ?  Law  of  selfmaintenance 

"We  dare  not  ignore  the  law  of  culture,  that  life  perpetuates  tension  under  self  renewal;  of  cultural  energies. 
that  the  forces  under  polar  constraint  serve  each  other,  to  maintain  themselves. 

CH.  IV.  THE  COUNTER-REFORMATION. 

§  163.    The  great  movement  among  the  Germanic  nations  from  the  Theiss  to  the 
Thames,  from  Geneva  to  Trondhjem  and  Reval  was  followed  by  a  counter  movement  JXfd^f^^°u*' 
from  the  Romanised  parts  of  Europe  in  the  triangle  :     Rome— Madrid— Paris.  It  was 
to  be  expected  from  causes  alluded  to.    The  attainment  of  religious  liberty  could 
scarcely  have  been  possible  without  the  timely  intervention  of  the  Turks.    The  hor- 
ror caused  by  their  menacing  attitude  weakened  the  power  of  the  Habsburgs.    This 
power,  gained  by  a  method  of  systematic  political  marriages  was  on  the  wane  as  counteraction  to  be 
soon  as  the  greatest  feat  of  its  characteristic  diplomacy  had  been  achieved;  and  when  ^''p^*'*^*^' 
Spain- Austria  had  contracted  the  hatred  of  the  Turk,  it  was   completely  unable  to 
execute  its  menaces  against  the  German  protestants.    The  hordes  of  the  crescent, 


Habsbnrg's  power, 
always  un-German  in 
its  policy  of  marriages, 
and  menacing  the 
Reformation,  was 
menaced  by  the  Turks. 

Protestantism  at  the 
mercy  of  the 
Habsburgians. 


Islam  curbs  the  designs 
of  Habsburg. 


Janizars  similar  to  the 
employees  of  the 
counter-reformation. 

g  133,  U5,  16i. 


Previous 

»ttenn't  to  point  out 
simultaneous  factors 
and  aims  of  a  similar 
system  of  pretension», 
tho  they  rested  on 
essentially  different 
religions.  §  131,  145 


Impress  made  upon  the 
Latin  (Romanised) 
nations  during  the 
conflicts  with  the  Turks. 
L.  V.  Ranki. 
§  133,  U5,  160. 


Romanism  tinctured 
with  Othmanic  culture. 


Oenesis  of  modern 
methods  to  demonstrate 
Rome's  superiority. 


Spanish  temperament 
ptculiarly  qualitied  for 
being  forged  into 
weapons  of  the  curia. 

8  133,  U5,  150. 


Scrutinising  the  secret 
of  thfi  success  of  the 
counter-reformation. 


THE  COUNTER-REFORMATION.  II  G.  Ch.  IV.  §  163. 

altho  repulsed  on  the  Danube  and  in  Iran  at  the  same  time,  yet  approaching  Vienna, 
evidently  had  to  serve  higher  ends,  otherwise  the  Reformation  would  have  been 
crushed  in  its  state  of  incipiency.  For  of  an  ally  or  support  equal  to  the  power  of 
Habsburg  the  protestants  could  not  avail  themselves;  because  there  was  no  such 
earthly  power  in  existence  just  then. 

Italy,  despite  its  distraction  and  military  incompetency,  was  still  considered  a  great 
power  by  virtue  of  the  intoxicating  influences  of  latitudinarian  popery  and  of  its  art.  Spain 
had  by  the  fall  of  Granada  become  a  unit,  but  had  fallen  into  the  grasp  of  Habsburg  by  virtue 
of  the  diplomatic  marriages  ever  coveted  by  this  old  dynasty,  so  that  Austria  had  come  under 
the  control  of  the  dusky  cabinet  in  Madrid,  and  had  to  serve  the  "Church"  in  order  to  oblige 
the  pope,  that  eventually  he  might,  perhaps,  arrange  another  marriage.  In  France  a  pack 
of  courtiers  had  been  raised,  who  cringed  under  the  foot-kickings  of  a  monarch  just  then 
and  thus  preparing  the  Olympic  almightiness  of  the  Bourbons.  In  England  the  bour- 
geoisie began,  since  the  "War  of  the  Roses",  to  raise  their  heads  against  the  Tudors;  but  in 
respect  to  continental  matters  England  was  not  at  all  formidable.  The  union  of  Kalmar  was 
dissolved ;  Christian  of  Denmark  could  scarcely  dispose  of  blood  enough  to  glue  it  together 
again.  Poland  was  under  the  permanent  misrule  of  an  anarchistic  nobility.  Russia  as  a 
power  did  not  exist  as  yet.  Hence  there  was  no  earthly  succor  for  the  German  protestants, 
among  whom  Saxony  and  Hesse  were  weak  enough  tho  being  the  strongest  politically. 
They  would  have  been  lost  had  not  the  crescent  curbed  the  designs  of  the  house  of  Habsburg. 

Like  an  ominous  cloud  Islam  darkened  the  eastern  horizon  year  in  and  year  out. 
The  corps  of  the  Janizars  had  not  yet  been  dissolved.  From  each  victorious  exploit 
multitudes  of  captured  Christian  boys  were  brought  home  to  the  "High  Porte"  and 
were  drilled  into  blind  obedience  for  special  purposes.  Living  in  barracks  and  in 
celibacy  under  coenobial  rules,  they  were  trained  half  monks  and  half  automatic  fight- 
ers. Wearing  long  gowns,  with  the  handshar  in  the  belt,  fanatical  in  whatever  fate 
willed,  they  formed  a  gang  ready  for  any  act  of  trickery  or  violence.  Young  renegades 
of  Christianity  they  were,  molded  into  an  elite  troup  of  Islam,  uniform  in  will  and 
intellect,  well  qualified  for  any  cruelty  against  the  infidels. 

Purposely  we  enlarge  upon  the  Janizars,  subsequent  to  and  in  connection  with  that 
which  we  attempted  before  by  pointing  out  simultaneous  factors  and  aims  of  a  similar 
system  of  pretensions,  tho  based  upon  essentially  different  religions.  Presently  we 
shall  offer  in  evidence  other  sequences  of  the  same  phenomenon,  previously  alluded 
to.  The  conflict  with  the  Othmans  originally  fell  to  the  lot  of  the  Italians  and  Span- 
iards when  the  battle  raged  around  Malta,  Cyprus  and  Oran.  The  modes  of  warfare 
impressed  those  Romanised  Christians  so  deeply,  that  they  adopted  a  great  deal  of 
Turkish  esprit  de  corps  and  disciplin-e  besides  Arabian  shrewdness.  Ranke  directs  the 
attention  to  this  curiosity  on  the  score  of  affiliation.  We  may  follow  his  tracks,  altho 
he  overlooked  other  circumstances  connected  with  them. 

Something  very  peculiar  had  come  over  these  combatants  during  their  engage- 
ments with  the  Turks:  "a  mixture  of  pride  and  perfidy.  Romantic  chivalry,  treach- 
erous diplomacy,  and  scheming  strategy;  of  faith  in  the  stars  with  consecrated 
devoutness  to  *'our  Lady".  It  is  remarkable,  almost  incredible,  what  refinement  the 
south  of  Europe  owes  to  that  contact  with  Islam.  How  far  the  really  civilised  ele- 
ment had  been  infected  with  the  Turkish  conversative  accomplishments  we  cannot 
stop  to  investigate,  not  supposing  that  they  resisted  the  charm  of  Turkish  high- 
tonedness.  Our  aim  is  simply  to  show  the  factors  which  of  these  elements  the  curia 
chose  as  suitable  for  imitation  and  adapted  to  Roman  tactics.  Our  aim  is  to  show 
the  genesis  of  the  modern  methods  applied  by  the  "Holy  See"  in  weaving  new  nets 
for  the  fishing  of  men.  Th3  Spanish  brand  of  character  is  peculiarly  qualified  for 
being  forged  into  tools  strikingly  similar  to  those  manufactured  by  the  Sultan  for 
definite  purposes.  This  becomes  evident  throughout  the  history  ensuing  immediately 
after  the  Reformation.  For  fully  a  century,  at  least,  the  workings  of  that  half -cross- 
half-crescent-spirit  tell  on  the  reconstruction  of  Europe;  and  their  efficacy  continues 
much  longer,  only  more  on  the  sly. 

The  puzzle  is,  how  the  Christianised  Germanic  spirit,  which  ever  insisted  upon 
human  rights  and  the  dignity  of  personal  life,  could  have  become  so  obtuse,  and  its 
spreading  so  obstructed,  as  to  enable  the  "counter-reformation"  to  succeed  upon  so 
large  a  territorial  extent.  Scrutinising  this  question  it  will  be  found  that  the  Ro- 
manists practically  had  gained  by  the  Reformation.    Their  tactics  and  even  their 


n  G.  Ch.  IV.  §  164.  JESUITISM.  303 

tenets  they  learned  so  to  modify   as  easily  to  be  accommodated  to  altered  conditions  f"^^^^i^^\^^  the 
and  expediencies,  and  at  the  same  time  to  retain  a  certain  intrinsic  consistency  with  J^thoucts'r  "'*°'' 
the  hierarcliical  principle.    It  will  be  found  that  the  order  of  Jesuits  acquired  ad-         •  u     ^ 
mirable  skill  in  utilising  what  could  be  obtained  from  the  regenerated  antique  (the  j^uits,  ^^  ^im, 
renaissance)  for  the  purpose  of  imbuing  accessible  souls  with  an  obedience  and  big- 
otry more  slavish  than  any  two  sets  of  Roman  ethics  ever  infused.    For  it  was 
by  means  of  just  this  order,  and  the  use  it  made  of  the  renaissance,  that  the  catholic 
courts  of  the  Habsburgers  and  the  Valois  now  took  to  these  Roman  virtues. 

The  order  took  its  rise  in  Turkeyfied  Spain  with  its  odd  mixture  of  Celtic,  Gothic,  Jewish  reminding  one  of 
and  Moorish  characteristics.  Considering  the  form  and  work  of  the  new  order  of  the  "Redemp-  eclecticism.'^^of"*""' 
torists"  nobody  can  repress  the  remembrance  of  ancient  orientalism.  We  cannot  help  extend-  Jsh^'^ml^V^'^'lj 
ing  the  parallel  which  suggested  itself  to  Ranke.    We  shall  do  so  under  the  reservation,  pu^aciousness,  and 
however,  that  when  speaking  of  Buddhism,  Romanism,  or  Protestantism,  we  must  discuss  the  ***''"*'  subjection, 
system  as  such  only  and  as  a  whole.    Upon  persons  and  malformations  which  become  parasit- 
ical to  any  system,  we  enlarge  not.   A  system  is  to  be  judged  by  the  influences  which,  in  virtue 
of  its  principles,  it  exerts  upon  personal  and  social  life  wherever  it  obtains  full  and  unchecked 
sway. 

§  164.    Be  it  far  from  us  to  belittle  the  merits  of  Jesuitism  in  regard  to  the  polish  Merits  of  jesuitiim. 
it  has  laid  upon  rhetorical  dialectics,  and  the  smoothness  to  which  the  arts  of  diplo- 
macy were  trimmed  down;  or  to  underestimate  the  cultivation  of  prudent  reserve 
which  modern  civilisation  owes  to  these  masters  of  pedagogical  drill  in  reservedness  ooai  of  Jesuitism  is 
and  politeness.    Our  object  in  throwing  the  flash  of  history's  search-light  upon  the  AwhuroSundV. 
order  is  to  elicit  certain  ethical,  or  rather  unethical  principles  on  which  it  hinges,  ^^^^  "  "**  "church' 
and  to  exhibit  the  effects  realised  through  its  instrumentality. 

An  inspection  of  Jesuitism  and  its  success  demands  the  uncovering  of  its  essence 
and  temper,  of  the  character  manifest  in  its  extreme  high-churchism;  it  demands  a 
clear  understanding  of  the  manner  in  which,  ever  since  the  origin  of  the  order,  Rome  "Government  of 
has  improved  every  occasion,  and  utilised  every  opportunity  to  emphasise  its  preten-  rehgion  . 

sions  of  universal  suzerainty,  and  to  defy  Protestantism;  it  demands  an  analysis  of 
the  cardinal  motives  inciting  Jesuitical  agility  to  persist  in  the  futile  attempts  at 
obtaining  the  goal  of  universal  secular  dominion. 

Once  before  we  quoted  Mommsen's  sentence,  which  seems  to  "hit  the  nail",  when  oid  Roman  and  Jewish 
he  said  that  morality  with  the  Jews  and  the  Romans,  both  experts  in  legalism,  was  SiroranoTances: 
nothing  but  "a  catechism  of  allowances."    We  may  add,  that  therein  consisted  the  contrlvedlt?'  ^'^''''^ 
morality  of  the  ancient  nations  in  general.    This,  however,  is  not  to  be  understood  as  ^°'"^"''-   *  ''^-  ^^^'  ^*'- 
a  revocation  of  the  truth,  that,  underlying  all  works  and  offerings,  there  existed  an 
obscure  impulse  and  prompting  to  compensate  for  guilt,  or  to  expiate  sins,  or  to  offer 
or  gain  satisfaction  as  the  cases  might  require. 

Furthermore  we  found,  that  the  Semites  developed  the  art  of  choosing  that  line  of  J^|^*^/*  ^*^*''' *°* 
conduct  which  in  a  given  case  under  such  and  such  circumstances  would  "most 
probably"  have  been  allowed,  according  to  the  collections  of  precedents  established  by 
the  fathers,  that  is,  in  accord  with  the  authoritative  judgments  of  some  imaum  or 
rabbi,  regardless  of  whatever  authority  that  imaum  or  rabbi  may  have  been.    We 
observed  how  that  casuistic  morality  had  been  palmed  off  upon  the  Church  in  aid  of 
its  promulgating  two  kinds  of  ethics;  and  how,  with  the  aflaiiation  of  this  theocratical  p^obabiiism  utilised  in 
and  peculiarly  fanatical  Semitic  ingredient,  that  impertinent  tendency  to  probabilism  ^'*""§ '73/129*^114%. 
obtained  the  means  of  firmly  fastening  itself  upon  the  vital  tissues  of  the  ecclesias- 
tical body.    Here  the  obnoxious  maxim,  for  instance,  found  its  deep  lodgment,  that 
God  had  invested  the  church  with  the  authority  to  extirpate  the  enemies  of  His  Name, 
under  the  presumption  that  the  Kingdom  of  God  was  identical  with  the  visible  Explicit  traits  of 

,  -  .  .  *^  .         •  a   Semitism ;  oneness,  rule, 

church,  saints  included,  and  With  her  exclusively,  the  treatment  of  every  enemy  of  extirpation  of 

^  .  .  «  i_  •  1         opponents.    Grmoob  VU. 

God  was  justified,  who  became  suspected  of  insubordination  to  the  edicts  of  his  eccle-  8 130,  m,  m. 

siastical  superiors.  In  the  figurative  speech  of  Pope  Gregory  we  found  all  these  traits 
mirrored,  which  henceforth  became  the  predominant  features  of  a  church  whose 
noblest  souls  uttered  moans  like  those  described  in  the  Apocalypse. 

After  a  great  organisation  has  tasted  power,  and  has  become  determined  as  to  the 
method  of  extending  that  power  and  maintaining  its  permanency,  then  every  step  powe^upL^^rS^^d 
advancing  in  this  direction  intimidates  resistance,  and  every  success  increases  the  «"^J«<=*^- 
impossibility  of  retracting  such  a  course.    Hence  persisten  cy  of  method  and  consist- 
ent adherence  to  the  maxims  of  theocracy  is  made  the  prime  virtue  and  the  mark 


904 


CONSCIENCE  BT  PROXY:  THE  CONFESSIONAL. 


n  G.  Ch.  IV.  §  164. 


Fanaticism  the  most 
convenient  surrogate    - 
for  religiousness. 


Conscience  by  proxy. 
EscoBAB.  129.  133. 


The  "confessional" 
requires  casuistry. 


"Mental  reservations'' 

Confessional 
substitute  for 
preaching. 


Papal-Semitic 
probabilism. 

§  73,  127,  129, 132,  133, 
163. 


How  Romanism  may 
defy  the  reproach  of 
depriving  humanity 
of  freedom  of 
cense  ience. 


Canonic  rules. 

Dogmatical  decisions 
and  moral 

generalisations  in  lieu 
of  personal 
conscientiousness. 

Set-off  of  Kant's 
categorical  imperative. 


Classification  of  sins 
and  codification  of  fines. 


The  training  of  Jesuits 
on  line  vylth  that  of 
Janizars;    g  133,  U5, 108. 


into  obedience  to  a  will 
not  one's  own; 


of  Jesuitical  faithfulness.  The  masses  want  to  be  governed  thus,  because  they  find 
their  carnal  indulgence  as  most  safe  and  undisturbed  and  mental  laziness  best  served 
under  strict  and  accustomed  methods.  Hence  they  are  soon  captivated  by  such  an 
easily  comprehensible  harangue.  Especially  nations  of  that  stamp  are  charmed  by 
the  fanaticism  thus  generated  as  the  most  convenient  surrogate  or  substitute  for 
religiousness.  It  is  the  practical  and  consequential  persistency,  the  unscrupulous 
sagacity  combined  with  the  indefatigable  determination  of  fatalism  wherein  the 
order  has  its  force  and  the  secret  of  its  success. 

This  sag^acity,  however,  is  but  an  improvement  upon  the  shrewdness  which  the  Spaniards 
had  learned  during  their  contact  with  the  Arabs,  with  modern  orientalism.  Jesuitical  morality 
is  to  be  ascribed  to  this  very  method  of  pagan-Semitic  probabilism  which  can  easily  be 
rendered  subservient  to  hieratic  aspirations  towards  theocratical  rule. 

Escobar's  wisdom  may  illustrate  our  assertion  as  to  the  source  of  Jesuitical  casuistry. 
He  presents  an  ambiguous  question,  such  as  may  arise  in  the  so-called  "conflict  of  duties,"  an 
intricate  case  in  which  an  ethical  solution  seems  impossible.  "Is  it  the  duty  of  a  person  com- 
ing to  the  confessional  to  describe  to  his  or  her  confessor  the  committing  of  such  and  such  a 
sin?"  Escobar  rejoins :  "Henriquez  says,  yes.  Lessius  says,  no.  And  I  myself?  lagreewith 
Lessius." 

This  dialogue  at  the  same  time  illustrates  how  one  in  doubt  as  to  his  duty  is  not  obliged 
to  ask  his  own  conscience.  The  theory  of  allowances  has  made  it  more  convenient  for  him  to 
choose  any  decision  of  somebody's  else  conscience  which  suits  him  best.  He  may  follow  the 
opinion  of  his  adviser,  who  then  must  take  the  matter  in  question  upon  his  own  conscience. 
Escobar  allows  him  to  do  so.  But  we  have  again  the  india-rubber  conscience,  in  proxy  and 
for  money,  which  not  only  thelmaum  supplies  or  the  Rabbi,  but  also  the  Jesuit— at  the 
confessional. 

The  doctrine  of  mental  reservation,  and  the  artifices  of  ambiguous  words  or  construc- 
tion of  sentences,  may  be  passed  over  under  the  concession  that  they  may  not  be  specific 
peculiarities  of  the  order  as  such.  But  the  more  portentous  is  the  introduction  of  the  con- 
fessional as  a  substitute  for  the  preaching  of  the  Word  of  God,  together  with  just  such  an 
abusive  method  of  utilising  the  substitute  as  we  observed  in  the  above  sample. 

Probabilism  owes  its  revival  and  ecclesiastical  adoption  to  the  innovation  of  the 
confession-box,  inasmuch  as  this  facilitates  the  application  of  ethical,  or  rather, 
judicial  sophistry  to  each  particular  case.  As  soon  as  oral  confession,  after  its  eleva- 
tion to  sacramental  dignity,  had  prepared  the  Roman  domination  to  adopt  the  old 
method  of  probabilism,  casuistry  became  its  necessary  complement.  Moral  philosophy 
was  henceforth  taken  from  the  province  of  the  conscieuce  and  transferred  to  intel- 
lectualism.  The  church,  requiring  the  submission  of  the  intellect,  substituted  her 
decisions  in  place  of  the  conscientiousness  of  its  members;  in  other  words,  the  priest- 
hood took  charge  of  the  intellect  of  the  laity,  and  took  their  actions  upon  its  own 
conscience.  It  was  this  relinquishment  of  individual  responsibility,  which  especially 
suited,  among  many  other  people,  the  courts  of  the  Habsburgers  and  the  Valois. 

After  the  members  of  the  church  had  been  deprived  of  conscience,  of  their 
own,  where  was  the  church  to  derive  conscience  from?  (It  was  this  problem  which 
prompted  Kant  to  build  up  his  theory  of  the  categorical  imperative.)  Well,  a  system 
of  generalising  and  analysing  precedential  cases  and  decisions  similar  to  the  requisite 
"law-brief"  in  legal  practice  was  provided  for. 

Sins  were  externally  classified  regardless  of  motives.  The  measure  of  guilt  was  ascertained 
by  the  relation  of  actions— in  their  bearing  upon  hierarchal  interests— to  the  canonical 
BUliES.  The  method  of  applying  ecclesiastical  jurisprudence  was  equal  to  that  in  which  many 
criminal  procedures  are  carried  on,  where  the  most  subtle  circumstances  are  investigated  in 
order  to  fix  the  extent  of  punishment— if  not  to  defeat  justice  by  shrewdly  resorting  to  legal 
technicalities.  This  moral  system,  if  classification  of  sins  and  codification  of  fines  deserves 
that  name,  was  the  work  of  a  long  lineage  of  casuists,  strongly  reminding  one  of  the  Komau 
"justice  in  private."    It  breathes,  at  any  rate,  the  spirit  of  ancient  Rome. 

When  alluding  to  the  mode  of  Islam  raising  a  body-guard  for  the  secret  purposes 
of  the  sultan,  it  will  have  been  noticed  that  the  highest  merit  of  Turkish  education 
consisted  in  its  skill  to  drill  human  wills  in  the  wiles  of  an  insidious,  deep,  and  burning 
hatred,  and  to  bring  them  into  obedience  to  a  will  not  their  own.  The  first  exercises 
were  calculated  to  alienate  men  from  every  afEectionate  relationship  and  then  to  en- 
ure them  to  blind  submission,  to  absolute  subjection. 

Now  the  very  same  results  were  accomplised  by  the  seminaries  which  the  novices 
of  the  order  of  Jesuits  had  to  enter.  Subsequently  they  were  subjected  to  the  ped- 
agogy in  the  houses  of  probation,  which  had  to  test  the  results  of  the  preparatory 


•  II  G.  CH.  IV.  §  165.  JESUITICAL  TRAINING.  305 

course  and  to  lead  the  pupils,  now  puppets,  over  to  the  practical  experimenting  of  ^^^^^^^  '''*'"  '""""y 
the  post-graduate  course.    The  alienation  from  family  affections  and  domestic  habits 
once  completed,  the  usefulness  of  a  Jesuit  as  a  tool  for  the  purposes  of  hierarchal  su- 
premacy straight  and  definite,  is  soon  made  perfect. 

Then  the  Jesuit  has  every  feature  of  his  face  under  control  so  that  his  mien  may  not  Thought  moulded  into  a 
betray  the  inner  workings  of  the  mind.    At  the  instant  of  being  commanded  by  the  superior  uniformity  of  scheming, 
he  renounces  every  trait  of  individuality,  his  own  judgment,  his  personal  ambition,  his  sense 
of  virtue.    He  can  prove  his  disinterestedness  to  the  extreme  of  selfsacrifice,  yea,  of  prostitu- 
ting his  manliness.    Thus  Jesuitism  is  able  to  exceed  even  Turkish  abnegation  of  personality.         k  h  d- 
To  Jesuitism  alone  it  is  possible  to  cast  thought  into  that  mold  of  habitual  simulation  which 
can  maintain  the  uniformity  of  tendency,  without  donning  an  uniform  like  other  orders;  so 
as  neither  to  compromit  nor  deny  the  schemes  of  the  order. 

This  obedience,  considered  as  meritorious  per  se,  is  obtained  under  indispensable  r^^^  ^^^,^  ^^  ^^ 
psychical  exercises,  called  religious,  of  course.   And  it  is  practiced  in  such  a  manner,  ^'^'k\ngt  of  «il''** 
that  the  object  of  the  command  and  the  effect  of  its  execution  by  the  agent,  are  to  "t'her'tKriVorth? 
him  entirely  irrelevant.    Just  as  the  individual  member  of  the  order  has  become  «""«i«' 
more  of  a  dumb  tool  than  a  rational  agent,80  has  the  order  surrendered  itself  to  be- 
come the  weapon  in  the  hand  of  the  curia.    It  may  be,  however,  that  vice  versa,  the 
curia,  dissembling  independence,  was  used  as  the  tool  of  the  order,  whenever  an  oc- 
casion demanded  —which  was  frequently  the  case— that  the  world  might  be  mystified 
as  to  the  workings  of  the  machinery  and  the  aims  of  either  the  curia  or  the  order. 

Gregory  XIII  founded  the  Roman  institute  of  the  "Propaganda"  as  the  seminary  for  all 
nations,  with  twenty  class-rooms  and  three  hundred  and  sixty  cells  for  the  scholars.    Its  true  curb  Protestantism. 
designation,  however,  was  the  special  drill  requisite  for  leading  the  renegade    Germanic 
nations  back  to  the  fold.  The  accomplishments  to  be  acquired  there  consisted  in  as  much  devout- 
ness  as  readiness  for  any  emergency.    The  Jesuit  must  have  mastered  the  art  of  adjusting  his  Jesuitical  training. 
measures  to  the  spirit  of  the  time.    He  must  know  how  to  cater  to  the  popularity  of  those  „  133^1«^63* 

nations  without  risking  the  loss  of  their  respect,  the  command  of  which  is  to  be  upheld  by  all 
means.  A  newspaper,  for  instance,  is  to  be  managed  with  such  duplicity,  that  scarcely  any- 
body may  surmise  it?  being  edited  by  members  of  the  order  in  furtherance  of  its  deep  laid  intimacy  between  the 
designs ;  that  "leaders"  may  be  composed  in  the  language  of  modern  infidelity,  or  in  the  tenor  Jesuits  and  the  coarts. 
of  protestantism ;  that  for  an  instance,  in  France,  England  and  the  United  States  simultan- 
eously, articles  may  appear  which  clamor  for  the  abrogation  of  the  Upper  House  of  parlia- 
ment or  of  the  Senate,  in  favor  of  certain  hidden  purposes  of  Romanism,   wherewith  to  Jesuits  the  privileged 

.     .  m-i  •  11»..  1  educators  of  the  wealthy 

amuse  unwary  politicians,  and  to  belabor  public  opinion.  This  school  of  spiritual  diplomacy  youth. 
was  "eminently  qualified  to  instruct  its  emissaries  in  dignified  and  decorous  deportment,  in 
the  unfolding  of  pomp  and  ceremoniousness.  in  order  to  attract  public  attention  and  admira- 
tion. It  perfectly  understood  how  to  instill  a  calculating,  all-observing  circumspection,  an 
indefatigable  aspiration  to  victory  by  all  means,  and  an  unquenchable  thirst  of  dominion". 
This  is  what  Ranke  summed  up  as  the  result  of  his  observation. 

As  from  Damascus  and  Yemen  to  Tunis  and  Morocco  the  monkish  orders  of  Islam 
have  their  work  assigned;  so  the  order  under  discussion  is  charged  with  directing 
the  recapture  of  the  Germanic  nations  and  reduction  of  their  countries  by  a  sur- 
reptitious warfare.    In  execution  of  this  command  the  first  efforts  were  directed  Absolute  monarchism 
towards  securing  the  patronage  of  the  courts.    Once  ingratiated  in  the  favor  of  a  tTmeIn  theChriStT^ 
mighty  ruler  here  and  there,  these  were  won  for  the  scheme,  and  with  them  all  the  '^"*"* 
means  for  making  the  pedagogy  of  the  order  the  ideal  of  education  in  the  national  in- 
stitutions of  learning.    For,  by  means  of  this  education  the  courts  gained  nothing 
less  than  absolute  monarchism  which  now  for  the  first  time  appears  in  the  Christian 
Occident. 

§165.  Precisely  as  during  the  period  between  Augustus  and  Diocletian  the 
power  of  ancient  csesarism  gradually  increased,  so  now,  thanks  to  Jesuitism,  the 
Christian  monarchies  became  encouraged  to  develop  absolutism,  as  the  history  of  the 
Spanish-Habsburgian  and  French  courts  evinces,  and  of  all  the  petty  courts  imitating 
them. 

Again  human  nature  gravitates  to  the  compact  mass  of  a  universal  monarchy  Humanity  ever 
which  bids  fair  to  render  individual  existence  secure— in  a  stagnant  empire.  S-^f  stegS*"* 

empires. 

The  Occident  always  contained  a  diversity  of  independent  nationalities.    Ever 
since  Wycliff   taught  the  English  to  get  along  without  a  pope  much  better  than  with 
even  three;  ever  since  the  Germans  had  carried  their  point  in  the  Council  of  Constanz  SSonsLusness 
to  vote  by  nationalities,  the  political  self  consciousness  of  these  nations  slowly  re-  RefTrmltionf^**'' 
turned.    After  the  Reformation  had  rejected  the  rule  of  a  hierarchal  world-theory, 


306 

«o  that  the  progress  of 
humanity  depends  upon 
opposition  to  Rome ; 


lb  curb  which  was  tiie 
object  of 
"Denominational 
»bsolutism  '.       Roschkr. 

Maximilian's  attempt  to 
become  pope. 

»45,48,50,  57,61,77, 
97,  124-127,  142,  145, 

148-150,  IBS,  178,  191. 


Even  the  power  of 
Charles  V.  not  dangerous 
to  humanism. 


House  Habsberg  and 
Spanish  absolutism  a' 
menace  to  civilisation 


since  Philip.  II,  the 
disciple  of  Jesuitism, 
institutes 
denominational 
absolutism. 

The  Jesuitical  ideal  of 
absolute  monarchism. 


Philipp'»  diplomacj  in 
doing  things 

"on  the  quiet". 

Pbescott. 

Deadly  stillness  of  the 
Escorial. 


Jesuitism  on  German 

soil; 


its 
latitudinarianism, 


suiting  courts  and 
peoples  better  than 
Calvinistic  discipline. 


Servility  and  courtliness 
appear  among  the 
Germans  for  the  first 
time. 


Jesuitism  and  Poland. 

Krasinskt. 


EDUCATING  NATIONS  AND  COUBTS  FOE  ABSOLUTISM.  II  G.  Ch.  IV.  §  165, 

the  Germanic  nations  had  taken  their  several  positions.  Upon  the  strength  and 
emulation  of  these  very  nationalities,  upon  their  independence  from,  and  decisive  op^ 
position  to,  Rome,  the  progress  of  humanity  depended.  To  bind  that  diversity 
and  to  curb  the  symptoms  of  progress  became  now  the  aim  of  absolutism,  which  with 
Roscher  we  designate  as  denominational  absolutism.  For  now  the  church,  notwithstand- 
ing: the  claim  of  catholicity,  became  sectarian  indeed,  if  it  had  not  been  so  before. 

On  the  whole  this  aspiration  toward  absolutism  was,  according  to  Roscher,  quite  harm- 
less. Up  to  500,000  ducats  emperor  Maximilian  would  have  spent  to  become  pope,  if  the  cardi- 
nals had  not  charged  more  for  it— whilst  the  same  poor  Austrian  was  refused  admittance  into 
his  good  town  of  Innspruck,  because  he  had  neglected  to  pay  the  hotel  bill  of  his  former  visit. 
His  bid  was  offered  in  the  month  of  August  1511,  when  pope  Julius  II  was  lying  sick.  We  see 
there  was  no  method  as  yet  in  such  bubbling  up  of  absolutistic  dreams. 

Soon  after  this,  however,  the  situation  changed.  The  grandson  of  Ferdinand  "the  Cath- 
olic", and  of  Maximilian,  "the  last  of  the  knights",  occupied  the  throne  of  united  Spain,  held 
Naples  and  the  Netherlands  in  his  hands,  and  upon  his  head  wore  the  crown  even  of  Jerusa- 
lem. The  imperial  office  was  added.  The  victory  of  Pavia  and.  the  taking  of  Rome  made  the 
position  of  Charles  V  the  most  formidable  the  world  as  yet  had  seen,  for  he  counted  the 
Indians  of  both  Americas  his  subjects.  His  preponderance  might  well  have  caused  a  feeling 
of  embarrassment  within  a  certain  monk,  when  the  young  Dutch  Spaniard  presided  over  the 
German  Reichstag.  He  terrifies  Paris,  stops  the  Othmans  behind  the  Raab,  and  with  a  firm 
grasp  holds  them  in  Algiers.  His  armies  conquer  in  Africa,  subjugate  Italy— they  are  victo- 
rious upon  the  heaths  of  Lochau  over  the  Saxon  elector !  But  notwithstanding  this  power 
Charles  V's  position  was  not  as  yet  perilous  to  the  cultural  life  of  the  world ;  it  is  after  him 
that  *he  Spanish  monarchy  becomes  dangerous.  Why  ?  Not  because  it  protects  Europe  against 
the  Turk  in  the  East  with  one  arm,  and  carries  European  culture  in  the  form  of  Romanism 
to  the  far  West  with  the  qther.  This  Spanish  monarch  becomes  a  menace  because  he  does  it 
all  with  a  purposive  determination  full  of  method  under  the  direction  of  a  Jesuit-General,  in 
behalf  of  "the  Church",  in  the  interest  of  a  largely  modified  "faith",  to  which  his  training 
enslaves  him.  The  first  absolute  monarch  in  Christendom  turns  a  criminal,  and  becomes  one 
of  the  most  heinous  figures  of  history— whilst  his  father-in-law  tries  to  play  English  absolu- 
tism to  spite  the  pope. 

To  Roman  Christianity  Philip  II  is  what  the  Sultan  is  to  Islam.  Silent  in  his  seclusion 
he  receives  messages  from  a  thousand  secret  agents.  Whether  the  ciphered  letters  contain  good 
news  or  dire  disappointments,  he  perfectly  controls  his  emotion  if  there  is  any  left  within 
him.  From  his  cabinet,  with  the  atmosphere  of  austere  stiffness,  he  reaches  deep  into  the 
course  of  human  affairs,  deep  and  direct  into  millions  of  horrified  households.  Too  deep 
for  any  man  to  discern,  his  procedures  move  all  in  one  direction.  In  conformity  to  his  admin- 
istration of  justice  which  is  executed  with  horrid  mysteriousness,  the  whole  mode  of  govern- 
ment is  rendered  terrible  to  the  last  resort.  Sufficiently  significant  as  to  the  nature  of  his 
deep  and  dark  designs  is  what  Prescott,  his  biographer,  says  of  his  "doing  things  quietly". 
The  deadly  stillness  about  his  lair  opposite  the  Escorial  became  exemplary  to  Spain.  By  the 
stakes  of  the  auto  da  fe,  which  the  king  with  his  entire  court  used  to  attend  from  beginning  to 
end,  he  made  stillness  reign  from  ocean  to  ocean.  Just  imagine  the  988  nunneries  in  Spain 
alone,  and  his  army  of  32,000  Dominicans  and  Franciscan  mendicants.  In  the  two  bishoprics 
of  Pampeluna  and  Calahorra  alone  20,000  clericals !  A  power  hovered  over  the  land  certainly 
strong  and  cruel  enough  to  frighten  and  to  freeze  all  consciousness  into  one  mold,  all  the 
fires  of  burning  stakes  notwithstanding. 

Life  in  the  Hofburg  at  Vienna  exactly  corresponds  to  that  around  the  Escorial ;  and  the 
effect  of  denominational  absolutism  upon  the  court  and  people  was  as  palpable  in  Austria  as 
in  Spain.  The  monarchs  were  trained  in  early  youth  to  build  little  altars  for  the  saints,  and 
were  tutored  to  destroy  the  last  vestiges  of  chivalry  and  constitutional  liberties  by  persecu- 
ting the  Protestants. 

At  court  blear-eyed  bigotry  and  sheepish  ennui  sneak  softly  along  underthelivery  of  Span- 
ish grandezza,  black  mandil  and  red  stockings.  Throughout  the  nation  the  same  languor 
exists  except  that  the  rigor  is  mitigated  by  a  licensed  sensuality  and  frivolity  as  it  is  every- 
where under  the  rule  of  Jesuitism.  For,  in  a  nation  of  well-behaving  children,  which  in  the 
sense  of  Jesuitism  means  punctilious  observance  of  priestly  prescriptions,  the  manners  and 
amusements  are  scarcely  censured,  be  they  ever  so  worldly  and  vulgar.  Under  such  liberality 
the  Germans,  to  a  large  extent,  and  the  French  not  less,  befriended  themselves  with  absolu- 
tism in  proportion  to  their  aversion  to  the  discipline  of  Calvinism.  The  social  habits  re- 
quired little  decorum ;  but  in  official  relations  matters  were  taken  very  gravely  and  seriously, 
and  a  tone  of  refinement  came  into  universal  use,  in  which  members  of  the  estates  even  would 
most  circumstantially  (nothing  short  of  a  style  of  Chinese  servility)  declare  "that  after  having 
reached  the  summit  of  happiness,  in  being  permitted  to  dare  to  prostrate  ourselves  at  the 
f eet  of  yourMajesty,  we  expire  in  most  faithful  submissiveness".  To  German  ears  such  polite- 
ness was  something  new,  but  they  had  become  educated,  you  know— recently.  And  if  we  take 
a  glance  at  Polonia,  poor  Poland,  we  are  compelled  to  admit  Krasinsky's  correctness,  when 
he  complains  that  "Polonia  went  down  under  this  system".  Those  four  hundred  pupils  of 
noble  extraction,  who  received  their  education  in  the  new  university  at  Putulsk,  were  sufficient 
to  inflate  the  entire  nobility  with  a  romantic  but  morose  bigotry  combined  with  corrupt  morals. 


n  G.  CH.  IV.  §  166.  THE  BALANCE  OF  THE  EUROPEAN  POWERS.  807 

It  was  the  beginning:  of  "Finis  Poloniee"  when  a  king  was  vouchsaifed  to  it  who  had  been,  and 
worse  yet,  who  continued  to  be,  a  Jesuit.  It  was  Johann  Kasimir,  that  is,  "Ja  so  mir"— (s.  c. 
"Gott  helfe"). 

§  166.    Having  become  acquainted  with  probabilism,  with  the  confessional,  and  courtiyabsoiutiam. 
with  denominational  absolutism,  we  must  for  the  sake  of  comparison  also  recognise 
the  courtly  absolutism  in  its  elegancy.    For  this  we  go  to  France. 

During  the  period  of  the  counter-reformation  the  difficult  task  devolved  upon  J^^^ft^g^***"" "' 
France  to  keep  the  polished  and  popular  order  of  Jesuits  in  good  humor,  and  at 
the  same  time  to  counter-balance  the  Spanish-Burgundian-Austrian  combination. 
Rome  never  forgets  its  Latin:  "Divide  et  impera!"  The  Jesuits  instructed  the  French  i><^^''^«' °' *h« 

°  ^  "Balance  of  Power" 

how  to  watch  "the  Balance  of  the  European  Powers."    For  a  time,  for  almost  a  cen-  f^t  up  »t  the  expense  of 

*^  '  the  Huguenots.        i  182. 

tury,  it  seemed  indeed  as  if  the  Habsburgian  group  should  rule  Europe.  France 
resisted,  successfully  resisted  that  hegemony,  but  it  furthered  absolutism,  courtly 
and  denominational  combined,  nevertheless.  France  furthered  it  by  obliging  the 
hierarchy  at  the  expense  of  the  Huguenots. 

It  was  in  the  nightly  consultation  at  Bayonne  which  Alba  held  with  Catherine  of  Medici»  Gregor  xm  and  the 
and  which  William  of  Orange  overheard,  that  Alba  broke  to  her  the  plan  which  seven  years  11^'^''*°*      „ 
later  was  executed.    Bishop  Perefixe's  estimate  is,  that  inside  of  six  weeks  100,000  Hugenots  Fsmxwtxx. 

had  been  killed  in  all  parts  of  France.    The  death  of  70,000  is  proved  by  still  more  official 
authority.    Gregory  XIII  had  a  memorial  medal  coined.    By  the  repetition  of  such  persecu- 
tion, tho  not  in  that   wholesale   manner,  France  was  purged  of  the  old  Franconian  and 
German  chivalry ;  the  Celtic  element,  more  pliable  and  less  true  to  principle,  gained  the  upper  poJi^är^^rdlnai's. 
hand.    Richelieu  utilised  the  thinned  out  and  frightened  populace  for  scaffoldings  in  the  BucKLKjGinKw. 

upbuilding  of  monarchical  absolutism.  Guizot,  in  his  first  period,  took  this  for  a  triumph  of 
civilisation.  Buckle  rehabilitated  the  shrewd  cardinal  on  account  of  his  success  in  the  recon- 
struction of  France  and  in  curbing  Spanish  schemes.  Mazarin,  another  ecclesiastical  ruler, 
completed  the  work,  and  in  Louis  Quatorze  the  world  witnessed  the  reign  of  an  arbitrariness  Damage  done  by  the 

,.,  .,  T,  t         t  !!•  ••  ^j.  1  •■i-i     counter-reformation . 

which  paid  as  little  regard  to  law  as  to  public  opinion.    Christendom  now  perceived  with 

admiration,  if  not  with  a  shudder,  a  "Most  Christian  Majesty"  under  the  caprices  of  his 

mistresses  and  flattered  by  his  confessors— his  conscience  by  proxy.    And  under  the  spell  of  poj^oning  the  morals  of 

such  a  sight  the  world,  hypnotised  as  it  were,  by  Jesuitism— made  loyal  allowances.    The  Europe. 

world's  history  met  with  a  court  which  not  only  corrupted  but  literaly  contaminated  all  the 

other  courts  of  Europe.    The  smallest  prince  in  Germany  imitated— a  new  Sultan.    Two 

cardinals  of  the  curia  assisted  the  court  in  this  work,  just  for  the  chance  to  fan  the  fanaticism 

against  the  Reformation  in  Germany.    They  had  succeeded  even  in  hitching  Habsburg  and 

Bourbon  together  for  this  end  in  the  "Peace  of  Mesdames"  concluded  at  Cambray. 

A  third  cardinal  frankly  confessed  what  he  knew  about  Rome's  partnership  in  the  Corruption  of  the  papal 
corruptive  dealings  of  monarchical-denominational  absolutism.    "I  hope,"  wrote  Polignac  "*'"'*•  Pouoma«. 

on  the  I6th  of  March,  A.  D.  1709,  "that  posterity  need  not  trouble  itself  with  deciphering  my 
dispatches  in  order  to  obtain  testimony  against  the  Roman  curia.  She  shows  by  her  deport- 
ment to  have  so  deeply  apostatised  from  the  spirit  of  her  testator,  as  to  justify  her  desire  that 
her  enemies  will  never  get  an  insight  into  the  diary  of  those  days.  Today,  when  truth  alone 
is  the  rampart  affording  protection  against  the  impudence  of  the  papal  court,  it  would  be 
iniquity  to  deny  it,  and  abandon  the  truth." 

France  was  purged  of  its  best  elements.  Its  silk  industry  was  ruined  immediately  and  The  losses  of  the  French 
completely,  by  the  weavers  taking  flight  to  England  and  Prussia.  It  took  the  government  a  EngUnd^and^PnfssU. 
century  full  of  effort  to  restore  the  industry  of  the  country  to  its  former  prosperity  in  order 
to  reopen  sources  of  revenue.  Even  after  that  lapse  of  time  the  government  seems  to  have 
realised  very  meagre  results.  Marie  Antoinette  once  had  to  deny  herself  the  pleasure  of  a 
court-ballet  because  the  minister  of  finance  needed  the  money  for  importing  glass-blowers 
from  Venice.  How  France's  losses  became  the  gains  of  England  and  Germany  becomes  evident 
in  the  facts  that  Great  Britain's  textile  industry  dates  from  the  very  time  when  it  gave  quar- 
ters to  the  Reformed  exiles;  and  that  in  consequence  of  its  purgings  France  had  the  humili- 
ating experience  that  a  score  of  Prussian  generals  of  French  descent  returned  on  a  short 
visit  to  their  ancestral  homes  in  the  year  1870. 

Thus  Jesuitism  together  with  its  projected  absolutism  was  a  failure  after  all,  "Fomication  with  the 
because  it  sacrificed  the  welfare  of  the  nations  and  the  cause  of  humanism  to  its  J^\lJfearth". 
intrigues  and  "fornication  with  the  kings  of  the  earth."    When  its  prestige  with  the  ^^^.^^  ^^^ 
courts  appeared  to  be  on  the  wane,  Jesuitism  stooped  to  the  lower  experiment  of  subjects 

^^  '  *^  "drunk  with  the  wine 

making  the  subjects  "drunk  with  the  wine  of  her  fornication.  of  her  fornications". 

For  why  did  this  order  with  "the  abundance  of  her  delicacies"  finally  fall  into 
disgrace  with  the  Bourbon  courts  in  France,  Spain,  and  Naples?  Why  did  Pombal 
clean  out  the  courts  of  Joseph  I  ? 

Choiseul  had  demonstrated  long  before  how  profitable  it  would  be  to  confiscate  and 
«ecularise  the  property  of  such  a  wealthy  and  powerful  state  within  the  state,  whilst  in  reality 
the  ground  of  the  disgust  of  the  courts  lay  deeper.    It  was  the  same  Choiseul  whose  first 


908 


Reasons  for  the  Jesuits 
falling  into  disgrace  at 
the  court  of  the 
Habsburgians. 

FOMBAL,  ChOISXUL. 

Begicide. 

Assassination  of  William 
the  Taciturn  of  Nassau- 
Orange.  MOTLBT. 
i 168, 174. 


Fruits  of  Jesuitism 
where  it  reign«d  at 
pleasure. 


Charms  of  casuistry 
deluding  the  church 
and'  alluring  the  nations. 
§164. 


Probabilism  the  system 
which  supplants  the 
principles  of  ethics  by 
principles  convenient 
to  absolute  rule. 


The  secret  of  the 
popularity  of  Romanism, 


with  minds  so  noble  as 
the  American.  §  181. 


Romanism  obstructive  to 
the  realisation  of 
Christian  unity. 


The  typical 
figure  of  the 
counter-  _ 
reformation. 


Contrast  between 
Philipp  II  and 
Laurentius,  his 
patron-saint. 


WILLIAM  THE  TACITURN  AND  PHILIPP  11  OF  SPAIN.  11  G.  Ch.  IV.  §  166. 

advice  intending  to  cover  the  retreat  of  the  traitors  had  been  given  in  vain,  who  finally» 
because  pious  Maria  Theresa  did  not  heed  the  advice,  had  to  convince  her  of  the  necessity  and 
justice  of  harsh  measures  against  the  order,  by  laying  before  her  the  original  documents, 
which  dismantled  the  high  treason  of  a  Jesuitical  conspiracy.  Intentionally  we  desisted  from 
enlarging  upon  such  historical  proofs  of  the  Jesuitical  tactics  as  came  to  light  in  the  murders 
of  princes.  Motley  adduced  proofs  suflBcient  in  themselves,  if  there  were  not  hundreds  of 
similar  cases,  to  stigmatise  Jesuitism  forever.  The  assassination  of  William  of  Nassau- 
Orange  is  not  forgotten ;  and  if  it  were,  the  verdict  of  history  is  not  to  be  supposed  as  taking 
the  place  of  final  judgment  against  perpetrators  of  such  crimes,  for  training  such  tools  as 
the  sneak  of  Delft. 

Yet  we  adhere  to  our  original  intention  simply  to  judge  the  system  and  to  indict  it  by 
resulting  facts,  by  the  notorious  effects  in  general,  where  it  had  a  fair  chance  to  realise  its 
principles  without  impediment.  This  chance  the  Jesuits  had  in  Brazil  and  Paraguay,  where 
they  held  their  subjects  under  unlimited  dominion,  and  nobody  disturbed  them  in  establishing 
absolutism  to  their  hearts'  content.  There  the  Jesuits  commanded  an  army  and  cast  cannons. 
They  raised  a  nation  which  had  no  objection  to  kneeling  before  exquisitely  wrought  altars, 
which  took  delight  in  the  numerous  festivities,  high  and  low,  with  which  the  patres  amused 
them.  But  all  that  the  Jesuits  did,  for  Paraguay  at  least,  was  to  raise  several  generations 
of  errand  boys. 

It  was  the  portentum  of  Roman  casuistry,  now  as  well  as  of  yore,  to  disfigure 
the  truth.  True  to  this  old  inclination  Rome,  Christian  in  name,  interpolated 
Roman  Pre-Christian  and  Jewish  Post-Christian  misconceptions  into  those  ethi^s^ 
which  are  founded  upon  the  high  dignity  and  value  of  personal  life.  But  that  casuistry 
could  obtain  the  degree  of  atrocities  alluded  to,  is  only  reducible  to  probabilism  and 
its  method  of  indoctrinating  the  nations  with  its  subterfuges.  Probabilism  was  wel- 
comed by  the  curia  because  of  the  convenience  which  it  afforded  to  maintain  its 
political  predominance  under  largely  altered  conditions  by  inventing  modes  of  accom- 
modation to  any  vile  practice.  And  because  the  Roman-Spanish  method  had  proved  so 
successful,  it  is  hardly  to  be  expected  of  the  curia  ever  to  open  itself  for  the 
conviction  of  its  error  and  to  repent -4ts  wrongs.  Contrarily,  it  is  to  be  expected 
that  Romanism  will  improve  that  method,  and  utilise  the  powers  gained  thereby  in 
continuing  its  mode  of  training  the  nations  in  its  ways.  Of  course  we  have  in  view 
such  docile  peoples  only  as  prefer  to  be  ruled  by  proxy-conscientiousness,  or  such  as 
admire  Semitic  insolence  and  tenacity  combined  with  Roman  determination  to  either 
rule  or  ruin.  But  just  on  these  grounds  we  anticipate  that  probabilism  may  estrange 
from  earnest  religiousness  minds  so  noble  as  the  American  mind,  minds  biased  to 
favor  this  system  because  it  inwardly  molests  a  person  less  than  any  other,  minds 
easily  captivated  by  apparent  success. 

Because  of  probabilism  with  its  sophistry  and  delusive  consequentialness  the  grand 
thought  of  "the  kingdom"— that  dome  expanding  wide  enough  to  cover  the  peaceful 
reunion  of  those  in  all  denominations  which  call  upon  the  world's  Savior— has  at  times 
been  treated  with  indifference  and  neglect,  if  not  contemptuously  rejected.  It  goes 
without  saying,  that  thereby  the  realisation  of  the  final  purpose  of  the  King  will  not 
be  frustrated,  howsoever  it  may  seemingly  be  obstructed.  Hence  Protestantism  is 
justified  in  denying  the  attribute  of  catholicity,  at  the  least,  to  the  Roman  church, 
in  criticising  its  methods  and  tactics,  in  treating  it  like  any  other  of  the  sects,  may 
its  organisation  politically  enjoy  ever  so  much  prestige. 

An  emblem  of  antagonism  against  the  thought  of  universal  Christian  humaneness,  a 
type  of  Roman  narrowness  and  monarchical  absolutism  will  ever  remain  the  figure  of  yonder 
misanthropist  in  his  chamber  six  by  six  feet  amidst  a  confusion  of  rocks  and  sterile  wastes  on 
the  slope  of  the  Guadarrama,  brooding  over  the  consummation  of  a  theocracy  which  might 
be  covered  by  the  dome  arching  over  his  brain.  From  his  bed  in  the  lonely,  stony,  and  chilly 
cell,  he  had  beside  the  view  through  the  door  no  other  than  that  upon  the  high  altar  below  the 
cupalo  of  the  Escorial.  The  grate,  upon  which  Laurentius  had  been  roasted,  outlines  the 
groundplan  of  that  immense  edifice,  built  with  the  gold  of  Peru  and,  like  the  Tuilleries,  with 
the  confiscated  property  of  ruined,  if  not  extirpated.  Reformed  Christians.  Over  the  main 
entrance  stands  to  this  day  the  image  of  the  saint  who  was  once  made  victim  to  the  intoler- 
ance of  blind  heathen.  State-religion  with  the  "worldly"  power  at  disposal  had  silenced  the 
champion  of  religious  freedom  who  yet  bore  testimony  against  irreligious  bigotry.  In  vain, 
however,  stood  the  stony  picture  of  the  martyr  in  its  niche  as  a  witness;  no  potentate  would 
understand  him,  since  votaries  of  martyrs  seemed  to  have  come  into  power  in  order  to  turn 
persecutors  themselves.  They  burned,  beheaded,  and  dispersed  their  own  subjects,  the  breth- 
ren of  him  who  once  had  been  roasted.  Hence  silence  reigns  throughout  Spain  as  over  a  large 
graveyard  around  the  gigantic  vault  known  as  the  Escorial. 


II  G.  CH.  V.  §  167.  THE  SPIRIT  OF  INQUIRY  AWAKENED.  309 

CH.  V.    ENLIGHTENMENT  AND  ABSOLUTISM  DISSECTING  THE  THOUGHT  OF  HUMANISM.  Full  contents  of 
§  167.    We  have  attained  to  a  position  from  which  the  course  of  events  outlined  humanism  °"  ° 


Awakening  of  the  spirit 


in  the  four  preceding  chapters  is  to  be  reviewed  under  still  another  aspect. 

Engaged  with  the  earnest  labor  of  ecclesiastical  reform,  and  under  the  pressure 
of  persecutions  outrivalling  in  fierceness  and  number  of  victims  the  so  called  ten  per-  ot  inquiry: 
secutions  of  the  patristic  times,  the  spirit  of  investigation  and  discrimination  had 
been  awakened  and  now  instituted  another  form  of  inquisition.     The  builders,  at 
work  in  rearing  a  reconstructed  church,  had  for  their  rule  and  compass  the  origi-  q^^'J!°* 
nal  charter  of  Christianity  and  that  God-consciousness  which  had  been  regained  by  the  consciousness 
perusal  of  the  restituted  gifts.    Soon,  however,  the  research  penetrated  into  crevices  S  up^by^thr^**"* 
where  misunderstandings  are  possible,  especially  where  eccentric  investigators  laid  ^«*°""**'°'' 
aside  the  rule  and  compass  used  by  the  reformers.    The  human  mind  had  been  out- 
raged so  long,  that  now,  in  striving  after  emancipation,  it  went  far  beyond  the  Emancipation  rejects  th© 

®  °'  °  ...  .  authority  of  the  compas» 

standard  measure  of  freedom.    Christianity  had  been  identified  with  ecclesiasticism  and  ruie  of  the 

Reformation ; 

SO  long  that  many  thought  it  more  safe,  in  avoidance  of  a  worse  popery,  to  choose  as  fear  of  another  popery, 
a  criterion  of  inquiry  and  research  the  opposite  of  religiousness:  namely  world-consci- 
ousness pure  and  simple. 

It  was  unavoidable,  and,  on  the  whole,  it  was  harmless,  that  for  some  length  of  soie^criterion: 
time  the  Christian  thought  was  superseded  by  philosophical  thinking.  ^^^^^^ousness 

What  is  called  "enlightenment"'  was  a  great  movement  which  pervaded  every  province 
of  culture  and  all  forms  of  earthly  life— until  it  led  to  a  crisis.    Emperor  Frederick  II  already      °  '^     ^^^^ 
had  given  some  vent  and  impulse  to  criticism.    Then  came  the  study  of  the  humanistics  and 
the  revival  of  letters  which  made  the  impulse  irresistible  and  permanent.    Both  phases  of  ^  ^  ^ 

reform  beforeReformation  became  intoxicated  by  the  new  wine,  and  reeled  from  aesthetical  establish  man  upon 
dilettanteism  to  literary  amateurishness,  and  staggered  from  antique  verse-meter  and  rhet-  ^Xi^cifhad^been '''^*°"' 
oric  to  mystical  constructions  of  the  universe.    The  results  of  these  desultory  and  precocious  outraged  by  dogmatism. 
attempts  need  not  be  put  to  derision,  for  in  some  respects  they  were  of  real  import;  and  History  to  grope  its  way. 
besides  it  is  to  be  remembered  always,  that  history  must  grope  its  way  along  through  the 
enthusiasm  and  excitement  of  transitory  periods. 

Then  came  the  religious  reform,  for  which  the  profound  study  of  Hebrew  and  Greek  had  The  Reformation  alone 
done  as  much  preparatory  work  as  the  contemplations  of  mysticism.    Had  it  not  been  for  this  hu^manism  in^s*fun*° 
concentric  synthesis  of  all  preceding  efforts  towards  a  reform  of  the  church,  man  could  not  meaning:  i.e.  man  to 
have  been  fully  reinstated  into  his  true  position,  which  includes  his  proper  relations  to  the 
invisible  realms  of  existence. 

Thanks  to  the  Reformation  man's  destiny  and  his  place  in  the  complex  organism  j   Relation  to  hi» 
of  the  visible  universe— as  set  forth  in  the  parables  of  the  central  revelation,  but  sub-  toHd  f  ^""^  *^^  ^'^^'''^ 
sequently  eclipsed  again  by  one-sided  and  diverted  world-consciousness— had  been  ^^^^**f°"^^^t„e- 
discovered  anew.    The  true  thought  of  humanism  had  been  rendered  formative  once  Seifcuiture. 
more  in  full  accord  with  its  contents,  which  are  summarised  (as  has  been  demon- 
strated) in  the  conception  of  man  as  "the  image,"  that  is,  representing  the  likeness  of 
God  and  mirroring  the  universe.    In  the  depths  of  personal  life  and  in  adequate  pro- 
portions God  and  world-consciousness  are  to  be  inwrought  one  into  the  other. 

Man  is  essentially  a  religious  being  as  to  his  origin  and  destiny.    He  is  also  a  S  reHnqSdr  "***** 
free  agent  as  to  his  development  out  of  his  own  resources,  that  is,  as  far  as  for  his  own 
good  seifcuiture  is  made  obligatory. 

The  cognition  expressed  in  the  term  humanism  implies  both  of  these  relations,  the 
religio-ethical  concerning  his  destiny  for  the  higher  world,  and   the  ethico-cultural  with  none  of  this  relation  to 

,,-,,_.  ,  .,.,.,  ,  ,       .    ,      be  cultivated  at  the 

respect  to  nature  below  him.    He  carries  a  purpose  within  him  that  ought  to  correspond  with  expense  of  the  other. 

the  design  above  him.    He  is  appointed  to  become  perfect  in  holiness  as  well  as  in  the  beauty 

of  glory,  both  to  begin  with  cultivating  natural  accomplishments  and  the  susceptibility  for 

spiritual  gifts,  and  both  to  be  consummated  at  their  common  goal.  Men  can  not  relinquish  the 

one  without  prejudicing  the  other,  without  rendering  the  realisation  of  humanism  in  its 

genuine  sense  impossible.    It  has  become  obvious  how  profoundly  the  religious  reform  took 

both  relations  and  obligations  into  its  scope.  The  reformers  conceived  at  one  intuitive  glance,  Contents  of  the 

that  man  in  the  midst  of  a  dual  relationship  was  to  consecrate  himself  to  the  will  of  God,  and  t"*^  concept  of 

that  man,  by  virtue  of  the  strength  thus  imparted,  may  devote  himself  to  God's  service  as  an  postul^tecAn  the 

instrument  of  the  divine  purposes  in  the  world.    Under  the  condition  of  non-resistance  and  Reformation. 

cooperation  man  is  to  grow  in  sanctification  so  that  of  himself  he  may  influence  the  natural 

world  preparatory  to  its  glorification  along  with  himself. 

Upon  the  basis  of  this  double  relationship  humanity  is  to  redeem  the  arrested 
and  depressed  life  of  nature  in  the  process  of  reciprocal  cultivation,  to  subdue  the 
natural  to  the  divine-human  spirit,  and,  inasmuch  as  in  his  selfdedication  nature  in 
its  entirety  is  implied,  to  consecrate  all  to  God. 


^10 


Man  to  appropriate  the 
divine  life  to  himself,  to 
conduct  this  into  the 
life  of  the  world ;  to 
conduct  the  world 
through  and  with 
himself  to  the  state  of 
glorious  existence. 

Precept  and 
project  of 
Evangelical 
Christianity. 

True  monism  of  natural 
and  spiritual  realities  in 
true  humanism. 


Proper  blending  of 
»acred  things  with  the 
«ecular  concerns, 


♦he  contrast  between 
sacred  and  profane  in 
church  matters  being 
abrogated. 

Christian  and  only  true 
and  possible  cognition  of 
humanity. 

Onesided 
theories 

caricature  either 
religion  or  ethics. 

Sum  and  substance  of 
♦he  thought  as 
established  by  the 
Reformation 

unification  of 
God  and  man,  of 
spirit  and  nature 
religion  and 
ethics. 

Directions  of  the 
thought  of  humanity. 


Badicalism 
vivisecting  the 
thought  under 
pretense  of 
emancipation 
from  dogmatism. 


Kecessary  restriction  of 
free  thought  by  the 
church  which  procured 
freedom. 

§  119'  171,  177. 


Enlightenment  had 
reasons  to  be  afraid  of 
new  ecclesiastical 
suppression. 


Humanity  is  to 
become  revealed 
with  all  that 
human  nature 
contains,  hence 
enmity  to  the 
Christian 
thought  not  to  be 
foiled  by  forced  . 
restriction. 


CHRISTIAN  COGNITION  OF  HUMANITY.  II  G.  CH.    V.  §  168. 

Thus  man  is  to  appropriate  to  himself  the  divine  lite  extended  to  him  for  accept- 
ance in  order  to  become  qualified  for  service  as  its  conductor  into  the  life  of  the 
world;  he  is  to  conduct  the  natural  world  by  the  ethically  elevating,  spiritualising, 
and  transforming  process  through  and  with  himself  into  the  state  of  divine  glory. 
This,  "in  a  nutshell"  is  in  substance,  the  world-theory  of  the  Reformation,  the  project  and 
precept  of  civilisation,  as  expostulated  by  the  evangelical  denominations. 

This  is  the  religio-ethical  and  none  the  less  rational  thought  materialising  itself 
in  the  acts  and  deeds  of  practical  Christian  life,  properly  blending  the  sacred  with 
secular  concerns,  the  earthly  with  the  heavenly  things.  Herein  is  formulated  the 
full  cognition  of  what  the  concept  humanity  ought  to  contain,  humanity  as  held 
together  by  the  reality  of  the  "image",  as  founded  and  fixed  in  the  being  of  God,  and 
as  becoming  realised  in  the  concrete.  Henceforth  the  old  contrast  between  sacred 
and  profane  in  church  matters  is  abrogated,  both  being  but  different  relations  of  the 
same  reality.  These  two  sides,  conditioning  and  complementing  one  another,  are  in- 
separable; if  they  are  separated,  or  taken  as  opposites  or  contrarieties,  humanity 
itself  is  broken  up  and  relapses  into  the  ancient  antitheses  without  humanism  and 
without  God.  Whoever  takes  a  position  against  this  theory  with  its  facts  renders 
both  religion  and  God-consciousness  caricatures.  Unless  both  are  duly  correlated  by 
maintaining  (1)  the  full  cognition  of  the  "likeness  unto  God",  that  is,  of  true 
humanity  in  unity  and  freedom  as  fixed  in  the  prototype  who  is  the  image  of  the 
Father;  and  by  thus  (2)  comprehending  the  intermediating  position  of  man  between 
the  natural  and  spiritual  worlds,  as  founded  in,  and  revealed  by,  the  person  and  work 
of  the  Mediator,  neither  of  the  above  antitheses  by  itself  will  sufiice  to  reduce  the 
phenomena  of  history  to  a  monistic  theory  of  life,  or  to  unlock  the  combination  of  the 
synthesis. 

§  168.  A  sad  spectacle,  to  observe  now,  how  flippantly  and  frivolously  those  themes 
were  handled,  which  it  took  history  and  the  ablest  minds  of  humanity  so  many 
millenniums  to  elaborate,  and  which  the  Reformation  under  palpable  divine  guidance, 
and  under  the  endurance  of  indescribable  sufferings,  had  elucidated  anew;  how  the 
freedom  of  inquiry,  so  conquerously  obtained  through,  and  maintained  in  hot  and 
bloody  contests  after  the  religious  Reformation,  was  now  abused  in  unsettling  all  that 
had  been  given  to,  and  accomplished  by,  the  champions  of  the  cause  of  humanism. 

Under  pretense  of  evangelical  freedom,  and  rampant  under  the  field-cry  of  radical 
emancipation,  emancipated  minds  undertook  to  dissect,  we  might  say  vivisect,  that 
cognition  of  humanity  which  the  Reformation  had  regained,  had  so  cogently  formu- 
lated, and  so  heroically  defended.  The  concrete  synthesis  of  fact  and  faith  is  now 
anatomised  after  the  manner  in  which  a  scientist  cuts  up  a  human  corpse,  as  tho  the 
conception  of  humanism  could  be  proved  or  disproved  by  the  use  of  the  scalpel. 

The  reform  of  doctrine,  discipline,  usages,  and  form  of  organisation  was  compelled  in 
several  instances  to  refute,  if  not  to  repress,  wild  outgrowths,  so  as  not  to  commit  itself  to  the 
reproach  of  silent  assent;  for  the  enemies  used  to  hold  the  reformers  and  the  renovated 
doctrines  responsible  before  the  diets  and  courts  for  misdemeanors  committed  in  the  abuse 
of  freedom.  No  sooner  were  the  restrictions  alleviated  than  that  "enlightenment"  tried  to  see 
what  could  be  made  of  the  evangelical  thoughts  of  freedom  and  humanity  in  the  interest  of  its 
onesided  world-consciousness.  Some  of  the  heralds  of  enlightenment  desired  that  the  Church 
as  such  should  be  disestablished  altogether,  or  at  least  become  deprived  of  the  right  of  manag- 
ing its  own  affairs,  which  they  seemed  ready  to  take  under  control  themselves. 

Those  enlightened  ones  had  reasons,perhaps,  to  fear  lest  a  new  persecuting  church  should 
arise.  Hence  they  set  up  the  physico-moral  pakt  of  the  idea  of  humanism  in  opposition 
TO  THE  RELiGio-MORAL  PART,  as  tho  the  latter  were  at  variance  with  the  former  or  irrelevant. 
The  product  was  labeled  "Natural  Religion",  from  which  "anthropomorphisms"  were  to  be 
weeded  out. 

In  short,  it  had  the  appearance  as  if  a  new  antagonist  had  risen  against  the  Christian 
thought.  Yet  it  only  seemed  so.  Experiences  of  the  saddest  nature  may  account  for  the  anx- 
iety which  the  lovers  of  the  Bible  manifested  during  the  controversies.  Yet  che  controversies 
do  not  justify  the  loss  of  too  much  of  that  confidence  to  which  the  thought  of  true  humanism 
in  the  concrete  is  entitled.  Throughout  history  the  intention  is  obvious,  that  humanity 
should  come  to  know  and  to  show  itself  in  all  its  phases,  and  this  intention  never  permits 
of  being  foiled  by  any  forced  restriction.  Hence  the  church  should  be  last  in  becoming  faint- 
hearted concerning  divine  truth;  and  as  far  as  sinners,  unconverted  and  pardoned  sinners 
make  up  her  ooustitueucy,  she  ought  to  enure  herself  to  the  endurance  of  public  criticism. 


n  Gr.  CH.  v.  §  168.  BESULTS  OF  THE  INQUISITION.  3lX 

Let,  therefore,  the  recovered,  the  reformed  cognition  of  humanity  be  investigated  Reason  for 
and  put  to  the  test:  to  whatever  is  true  and  genuine  in  fact  and  sound  in  doctrine,  no  ciitSism/^^^ 
harm  can  be  done  thereby.     Antagonistic  investisjation  will  only  urge  on,  and  in  the    §  ^'  ^'^'  ^^'  ^^'  ^^^* 
end,  further  those  in  the  assurance  of  their  faith  who  had  weakened  under  the 
bold  denials  of  a  scepticism  which  from  its  nature  must  of  necessity  doubt  its  own 
assertions.    Let  this  fundamental  bipolar  cognition  be  analysed  as  to  its  different 
elements  and  interrelations;  whenever  mischief  or  misrepresentation  is  intended 
the  procedure  always  accrues  to  the  disgrace  of  the  assailant. 

The  concession  here  made  to  criticism  and  scepticism— so  far  as  it  waives  the  privileges  No  reason  to  be  afraid  o£ 
of  church- membership— should  not  be  taken  as  a  tolerance  originating  from  indifiPerence.    If  thelhlSK huma^^ity, 
it  should  seem  strange  to  give  so  much  license  to  free  inquiry,  then  it  is  to  be  remembered 
that  the  Reformation  owes  its  origin  and  success  to  this  very  principle;  else  it  should  seem 
strange,  too,  that  astronomy,  once  enveloped  in  the  church  with  all  the  other  sciences,  should 
have  detached  itself  from  the  dogmas  of  that  church  and  become  independent,  so  as  to  enrich 
knowledge  in  general  through  unbiased  research.    Instead  of  becoming  confused  by  the 
division  of  mental  labor,  knowledge  is  rendered  the  more  lucid  and  test-proof.    Hence  there  ^"  attempting  a  new 
is  no  reason  to  be  afraid  of  a  onesided  idea  of  humanism  detaching  itself  to  take  an  inde-  from  church-dogoias'* 
pendent  start  upon  a  course  of  history  of  its  own.    Such  a  separate  movement  can  only  tend  ow*''^  §  2 'i3°38  "9i'*ii9 
to  enrich  the  whole,  tho  it  were  but  in  the  negative— and  to  enlarge  our  comprehension  of        iäs,  I68,  m,  iss,'  197) 
what  humanism  implies  and  how  that  knowledge  is  to  be  applied.  ^*^"'  ^^^' 

As  a  general  thing  "enlightenment"  was  an  anti-churchly  movement  that  made  irreligious 
it  necessary  to  state  the  positive  principle  in  counterposition.    But  it  is  necessary  humanitarianism 
also  to  state  the  well-founded  reasons  for  opposing  the  ecclesiastical  apperception  of  forth.^^"  called 
humanism,  tho  the  statement  may  be  taken  almost  as  an  excuse  of  the  irreligionists.  ^^^ciesiasticism. 
That  we  do  not  advocate  the  workings  of,  and  have  no  partiality  for,  the  movement, 
will  appear  when  we  come  to  investigate  it  as  to  its  own  merits. 

Even  in  the  countries  under  Roman  rule  ecclesiastical  diplomacy  and  despotic  Romanism  unawe  to 
absolutism  did  not  always  succeed  in  suppressing  free  thought,  critical  examination  urown^erHtonS*'"****" 
and  scepticism.  sxhossmkvk». 

If  Rome  charges  Protestantism  with  being  responsible  for  radicalism,  Bishop  Stross-  inquisition  called  forth 
meyer  has  demonstrated  to  her,  that  she  had  to  fight  heretics,  i.  e.,  free  thinkers,  long  before  t^e  spirit  of  free  inquiry, 
the  Reformation  and  in  her  own  strongholds.  The  inquisition  then  in  vogue  was  a  judicature 
of  the  king,  a  measure  of  the  worldly  power,  merely  embellished  with  ecclesiastical  pomp  and 
sanctimoniousness,  and,  of  course,  highly  approved  of,  if  not  explicitly  sanctioned,  by  the  pope. 

When  Conrad  of  Marburg  attempted  to  introduce  the  inquisition  into  Germany  as  the  first  which  is  not  to  be 
attempt  at  extending  it,  he  was  slain  by  Hessian  peasants,  because  of  his  cruel  treatment  of  ?,^^uish1o  ^^  *°"*'**' 
Elizabeth  of  Thuringia.    Then  followed  the  burghers  of  Naples  and  Milan  in  resisting  the 
Spanish  contrivance  to  ferret  out  secret  Moors.    The  people  of  Milan  cried;     "Long  live  the 
king!    Death  to  the  inquisition !"    In  Naples  the  bells  rang  the  alarm,  and  nobles  arm  in  arm 
with  commoners  cried;    "The  union  shall  live !" 

In  Rome  Christine,  the  amazon  daughter  of  Gustavus  Adolphus,  spent  her  Swedish  for-  Christine 
tune.    Saidshe  to  Burnet:    "Of  necessity  the  Church  must  be  governed   by  the  Holy  Ghost,  queen  of  Sweden, 
for  since  I  am  in  Rome  I  have  seen  four  popes,  and  I  swear  to  you  that  none  of  them  had  any   Adofphus,*'cr^tidsur^ 
common  sense".  To  besure,  one  may  doubt  whether  she  had  much  herself.    Shehad  exchanged  P°P«''y- 
a  crown  for  a  free,  lusty  life,  and  now  she  covets  a  crown  again,  be  it  the  Swedish  or  the 
Polish.    Her  adventures  are  only  referred  to  at  this  instance  in  illustration  of  the  free  and 
frivolous  spirit  of  enlightenment,  which  ever  since  the  reign  of  Leo  X  had  seized  Catholicism. 
To  illustrate  the  truth,  on  the  other  hand  (which  might  be  proven  from  numberless  other  Rigorism  of  Genevus  not 
instances  of  equal  force)  that  onesided  world-consciousness,  or  rather  worldliness  sprang  worldly  humani's'ttcl^'"^' 
not  from  the  rigorism  of  the  magistrate  of  Geneva.    Such  reproach  is  ill  becoming  Rome  in 
face  of  the  fact  that  for  the  sake  of  contrast,  Rome  was  not  always  very  decided  on  the  part  of 
God-conscousness  or  godliness. 

Philip  's  bboodings  in  the  Escobial  turned  out  to  be  of  bbal  advantage  to  the  r      if     f 
Dutch  and  the  English,  and  to  the  Reformation  together  with  the  cause  of  humanism.  Philip   's 

The  Dutch  opposed  the  introduction  of  the  inquisition,  as  much  as  the  deprivation  of  broodings  to 
their  constitutional  rights,  and  the  establishment  of  absolutism  by  military  power.    Holland-  t^^^^.  *.*?? 
ish  freedom  had  been  reduced  to  the  small  town  of  Alkmaar,  which  fifty  years  previously  had  Holland, 
furnished  the  stake  the  first  victims  of  the  Reformation.    It  was  here  that,  in  the  days  of  the 
Bartholomew    massacre,  the  freedom  of  Europe  stood  at  bay,  and  fishermen,  drowsy  Dutch 
fishermen,  withstood  the  veterans  of  Alva,  the  elite  troops  of  the  world. 

The  Leyden  people  dug  out  the  last  blades  of  grass  which  grew  between  the  cobble- 
stones on  the  streets,  and  cooked  old  shoes;  but  they  held  out  until  the  waves  drove  off  the  th^Nethrrlwidfunder 
Spaniards  just  at  the  hour  when  the  battered  wall  broke  down.    Those  heroes  of  Leyden  William  of  Orange 
would  eat  the  left  arm  in  order  to  keep  up  strength  for  fighting  with  the  right,  until  Wil- 
liam's Geuses  brought  them  bread,  carried  through  the  dams  by  the  raginir  North-Sea. 


812 


DESCARTES  INITIATES  A  NEW  PHILOSOPHY. 


n  G.  Ch.  V.  §  169. 


Calviaistic  nations 
become  maritime  and 
Industrial  powers. 


Hugo  Grotius  writes  on 
international  law. 

8175. 


Water-beggars  found 
Kew  York. 


Musings  of  a 
Dutch  soldier. 


Descartes  establishes 
another  kind  of 
inquisition — inquiry 
as  to  the  "Ego". 


Philosophy  of  Spinoza, 
Locke  and  Leibnitz 
initiated. 


A  new  world- 
consciousness  founded 
upon  the  ego,  upon 
scepticism  as  to 
dogmatics. 


Man,  taken  as  the 
major  premise,  put  in 
the  central  position. 


Significance  of 
Descartes'  speculation. 


"Aufklserung", 

enlightenment. 


in  Its  scientifio 
beginning. 


It  was  Holland  that  broke  the  Spanish  power;  and  it  was  God  who  scattered  the 
Armada  into  the  winds  and  waters.  Holland  and  England  and  Brandenburg,  all 
Calvinistic,  rose  at  once  to  become  and  to  remain  the  leading  nations. 

The  Dutch  navy  vanquished  the  Spanish  everywhere  and  hoisted  brooms  to  their  mast- 
heads, signifying  that  the  sea  was  swept  clean  of  absolutism.  Their  ships  went  out,  bound  for 
Japan  around  the  northern  coast,  with  evangelists  on  board ;  they  hauled  wool  from  Cyprus 
and  silk  from  Naples.  Amsterdam  took  the  place  of  Yenice.  Leyden  became  a  university ; 
and  Hugo  Grotius  wrote  on  international  law.  Upon  the  basis  of  Calvinistic  ethics  and 
energy,  people  of  faithful  and  dutiful  character  rose  to  a  religious  world-consciousness  never 
heard  of  before.  Upon  the  basis  of  navigation  and  the  maritime  commerce  of  Reformed 
nations,  upon  the  basis  of  industry  which  France  had  driven  to  London  and  Berlin,  a  general 
and  very  promising  advance  was  made  in  all  directions  of  ethico-cultural  life,  starting  right 
in  to  build  up  a  solid  and  genuine  civilisation  without  artifices  and  without  ceasing.  And 
a  party  of  Geuses,  the  Dutch  water-beggars,  laid  the  foundations  for  New  York. 

A  Dutch  soldier  sits  behind  the  stove  in  his  barracks,  musing  over  the  universe 
and  its  origin,  over  Heaven  above  and  the  affairs  of  mankind  upon  earth  beneath.  It 
is  Descartes,  the  pupil  of  Spanish  Jesuitism,  seeking  his  way  out  of  the  labyrinth  of 
probabilism.  Laboring  under  the  conviction  that  first  of  all  it  is  necessary  to 
doubt  everything,  he  resolves  to  be  a  sceptic.  Thinking,  he  breaks  down  the  whole 
world-consciousness  which  has  been  imposed  upon  his  thoughts.  Only  one  thing  he 
cannot  argue  away,  his  "cogito."  From  that  simple  point  he  levels  the  ground  for  a 
mental  reconstruction  of  the  entire  "world-wisdom." 

He  initiates  a  new  philosophy  for  Spinoza,  Locke  and  Leibnitz  wherewith  to 
engage  their  meditations.  The  single  thought  left  to  certainty,  above  the  possibility 
of  a  shadow  of  doubt,  is  that  he  who  thinks  is  really  himself.  That  the  ego  thinks 
proves  its  existence  and  selfconsciousness.  This  certainty  becomes  the  foundation 
upon  which  the  whole  tower  of  conclusions  is  reared  heavenward.  In  the  ego  lie  the 
ideas,  and  the  perceptions  are  formed.  But  from  whence  do  they  get  there?  Probably 
they  are  delusions  which  do  not  truly  reflect  things  around  one  as  they  really  are. 
Hence  those  perceptions  and  ideas  and  the  process  of  their  formation  must  be  scrutin- 
ously  examined.  And  one  idea  surpasses  all  the  others  which  it  is  impossible  that 
the  ego  should  have  produced  of  itself:  the  idea  of  an  infinite  being.  Along  with 
selfconsciousness  the  consciousness  of  God,  then,  the  God-Idea,  is  to  thought  a  neces- 
sity, since  it  cannot  be  thought  away.  Furthermore  we  find  within  ourselves  the 
ideas  of  thought  and  of  extension,  over  both  of  which  we  can  think.  This  makes  it 
necessary  to  presuppose  subsisting  existences;  that  is,  substances  conveying  thought 
in  their  extensiveness.  Thus  Descartes  penetrates  deeper  into,  and  advances  higher, 
step  by  step,  from  his  solitary  "ego"  because  of  its  "ergo." 

It  is  plain  that  here  a  mode  of  ratiocination  sets  in,  which  is  to  hold  sway  over 
the  new  sera  thus  inaugurated. 

Man,  not  God,  is  the  major  premise  and  stands  in  the  center. 

From  within,  man's  aspirations  reach  out  to  construct  his  world,  the  new  humanistics. 
Man  is  to  appropriate  to  himself  the  objectivity  of  things,  and  to  model  them  into  conform- 
ance with  thought.  Man  does  not  want  the  world  to  explain  itself  to  him,  because  he  must 
explain  it  to  his  own  satisfaction.  And  the  Master-builder  of  this  world  must  be  detectable 
under  the  given  laws  of  thinking.  That  means,  we  must  not  accept  anything  as  a  matter  of 
course,  but  are  to  reason  out  things  ourselves, 

Then  this  new  form  of  world-conscionsness,  which  commenced  with  the  protest 
of  an  autodidactic  mind  against  all  that  is  and  was  taught  us  to  be  so,  the  general 
"clearing  up"  (Aufklserung)  ensued.  Under  the  new  aspects  the  fragmentary  and 
illfitting  parts  of  a  sort  of  kaleidoscopic  knowledge  were  removed  in  order  to  erect 
the  new  building  upon  the  leveled  ground  of  the  ego.  Soon  the  universities  of  Ley- 
den and  Utrecht  were  drawn  into  the  Cartesian  neology,  and  all  the  high  schools  of 
the  German  nations  followed  suit  in  the  work  which  again  made  "man  the  measure 
of  all  things."  This  was  the  beginning  of  the  "enlightenment"  among  the  learned; 
its  charm  consisted  in  the  facilities  which  it  afforded  for  popularising  this  wisdom  to 
the  level  of  a  jejune  generalness  and  pretentious  subjectivism. 

§  169.  The  Norman-French  feudal  lords  had  subjugated  and  trodden  down  the 
Anglo-Saxon  element  under  papal  sanction.  But  when  the  people  of  England  arose 
in  defense  of  their  old  church,  the  prime  movers  were  discovered  as  coming  from  that 


n  G.  Ch.    v.  §  169.        HUMANITY  CONCEIVED  MATERIALISTICALLY.  313 

very  Anglo-Saxon  stock  among  whom  Bangor  and  Lutterworth  had  not  entirely  been  Ingundfwfttfite 
forgotten.    The  people  of  England  had  become  disgusted  with  the  rule  of  cardinals.  "^*"?'  tendency  to 
The  nation  had  become  ripe  for  representative  government  after  the  pattern  of  the    §  i3o,  135,  m,  139, 
Calvinistic  synods.    The  supreme  judicatory  of  Rome  was  abolished;  neither  Peter's  156, 175. 

pence  nor  the  money  for  a  pallium  should  leave  the  country.    The  "spiritual"  and  goXnment 'If ter  the 
** worldly"  estates  were  combined  under  the  "crown".    Queen  Elizabeth  resigned  the  syS."'  ^''''''°''"*' 
title  of  the  "supreme  head  of  the  church",  altho  retaining  the  more  resolutely  "the 
sovereign  prerogative  in  all  matters  of  state,  ecclesiastical  as  well  as  secular." 

Thus  the  ground  had  been  cleared  in  Reformed  nations— to  a  certain  extent:  in  the  one  Another  sequel  of 
by  application  of  ethical  measures,  whilst  the  Lutherans  got  mussed  up  a  little  through  their  Phiiipp's  oppressive 
dogmatical  controversies.    Both  courses  were  conducive  to  the  accelerated  development  of  ^easures"*^  '^* 
free  mental  activity,  altho  one  anomaly  continued,  which  at  the  bottom  was  as  favorable  to  Quekn  Elizabbth. 

absolutism  as  any  world-theoreticalheresy :— the  state-church,  reducible  to  the  circumstances 
created  by  Philip's    fllibusterings. 

"My  crown,"  said  Elizabeth,  "is  subject  to  the  King  of  Kings  andto  nobody  else".  So  much 
had  Philip's  pressure  accomplished,  that  the  claims  of  church-dogma  on  one  hand,  and  of 
free  criticism  and  public  inquiry  on  the  other,  might  be  discriminated  and  liquidated. 

What  Descartes,  the  musing  Dutchman,  expostulated  to  the  scholars,  Shakespeare,  Shakespeare 
the  practical  Englishman,  exhibited  to  the  public.    Irrelative  of,  and  indifferent  to,  De?ca?tes1?ad^** 
the  religious  tenet  of  the  state-church  even,  he  analysed  human  nature  in  open  view  expostulated  to 
of  the  nation,  and  popularised  the  result  by  the  dramatic  representations  of  char-  oars, 

acters  in  their  bearings  upon  historical  events.    These  realistic  pictures  called  forth 
a  taste  for  both,  anthropological  and  historical  studies.    In  the  grand  descriptive  pointed  out  the 
style  of  Daniel,  in  the  language  which  Wycliff    had  fixed  by  his  translation  of  the  ?Sn  which  practical 
Bible,  and  with  an  intuitive  insight  almost  bordering  on  inspiration,  Shakespeare  nat°uTe^and°'^"'°*'' 
inadvertently  pointed  out  the  paths  upon  which,  outside  of  the  church  and  without  w Jtory  **^**^**^  °' 
reference  to  her  doctrines,  the  practical  knowledge  of  man  and  the  philosophy  of  his-  ''  *°  proceed. 
tory  were  to  proceed. 

In  Hume,  the  subjectivistic  historian,  we  see,  bolder  than  anywhere  else,  that  Hume  considers  human 
side  of  philosophy  preponderating,  which  considers  human  nature  under  the  low  Ts^pecTsof  naturalism. 
aspects  of  naturalism,  not  simply  disregarding  but  even  assaulting  the  spiritual,  to 
say  nothing  of  the  religious,  elements  of  personal  life.    According  to  Hume  the  con- 
cept of  humanity  is  an  abstract  generalisation;  humanity  itself  is  treated  as  a  col- 
lection of  individuals  without  the  inner  connection  through  any  "center  of  cohesion." 
Under  pretext  of  close  investigation  analysis  dissolves  the  race  into  atoms,  detracting 
the  attention  from  the  difficult  problems  (because  of  the  inability  to  account  for 
them, )  of  the  individualisation  from  the  uniform  bulk  of  natural  generalness,  or  of 
explaining  personal  life  as  to  either  its  limitations  or  its  independence,  according  to 
its  relations,  adaption,  and  character.  Hume  estimated  his  work  on  "Human  Nature"  Rousseau  showed 
as  a  stillborn  child.     But  it  was  none.    It  grew  up  to  become  quite  a  selfwilled  rei^ion  was 
and  mischievous  boy.    It  just  suited  the  prevailing  tendency  of  the  time,  which  Sfan  happy"^^^ 
moved  in  the  direction  of  utilitarianism,  and  which  pampered  the  physical  appetites 
of  human  nature.    In  Heaven  and  upon  earth  nothing  was  worth  knowing,  but  what 
might  gratify  wants  of  that  kind,  and  these  wants  were  much  simplified  by  Rousseau. 
On  free  English  soil  Hume  thus  wrought  into  system  what  had  been  hinted  at  by 
Herbert  of  Cherbury  and  Hobbes.  An  abstract  and  rather  hazy  Deism  was  construed  English  deism 
into  a  sort  of  natural  religion,  which  tried  to  bring  under  roof  whatever  remnants  re^ced'undVstan.Sng'' 
retained  from  the  God-consciousness,  which  could  not  be  "cleared  up"  or  cleaned  woridSdousw 
away.    For  a  very  indigent  but  so  much  the  more  pretentious  "understanding"  and 
a  very  diverted  and  dissolute  world-consciousness,  this  natural  religion  with  natural 
man  as  the  center  was  sufficient,  but  not  lasting. 

Then  came  Voltaire,  and— "after  us  the  deluge."    He  was  a  pupil  of  the  Jesuits  rendered  into  French 
as  were  all  the  French  enlighteners  on  the  average.    On  his  return  from  England  sensualism  by 
he  made  it  his  chief  business  to  preach  Hume  and  Deism. 

Bitter  rancor  and  malicious  sneer  was  all  that  Voltaire,  the  plagiarist  of  Hume,  voitaire,  the  plagiarist, 
could  add  from  his  own  understanding;  and  all  that  henceforth  agglomerated  around  S^f^'alcarVnad'ent^.** 
Hume's  wormy  nucleus.    We  dismiss  it  as  below  our  criticism;  neither  do  we  ascribe 
much  cultural  import  to  the  thirty  thousand  copies  of  the  encyclopedia,  through 
which  the  unwarranted  and  unmitigated  hatred  against  the  Christian  principle  of 


314 


Results  of  the 
"enlightenment''  of  the 
cyclopedists.       Carlvle, 
§  178,  211, 


Encyclopedia  proscribed 
by  French  government. 
Its  authors  feted  by 
Frederick  the  Great. 


State-absolutism  and 
religious  indifference 
nourish  one  another. 
§  11,  15,  58,  66,  72,  95, 1 


Applaudingjto  individual 
aspiration  tends  to 
leveling  uniformism  and 
generalness. 


Conception  of  the 
modern  state 
independent  of  religion, 
wherein  the 

Church  is  made 
dependent  on  the 
state. 

Enlightened 
despotism 
tolerates  all 
except  the 
Christian 
cognition  of 
humanism. 

Pantheism 

invites 

absolutism. 

Heoel. 

§  58,  66,  72,  95,  98, 
185. 

The  king  as  bishop  of 
the  stite  church, 
ex  officio. 


Religious  side  of 
the  thought  of 
humanism  kept 
in  bondage. 


lERELIGION  AND  LOSS  OF  POLITICAL  LIBERTY.  11  G.  Ch.  V.  §  170. 

humanism  was  spread  among  the  nations.  We  decline  to  trace  out  just  now  the 
results  of  this  conspiracy  of  godlessness.  Samson's  memoirs  tell  of  them,  and  we  need 
simply  refer  to  Carlyle's  very  accessible  sketch  thereof. 

We  were  compelled  to  take  notice  of  the  outcroppings  of  "enlightenment"  in  order  to 
behold  what  had  become  of  the  problem  of  humanism  under  the  onesided  treatment  regard- 
less of  its  Christian  concomitants.  And  we  take  notice  of  the  fact,  that  the  sale  of  the  ency- 
clopedia was  as  yet  strictly  prohibited  by  the  French  crown,  when  the  Protestant  king  feted 
its  authors  and  made  them  courtiers  at  Berlin— just  as  he  protected  the  Jesuits  when  they 
were  driven  out  everywhere,  in  order  to  spite  Maria  Theresia.  The  English  ambassador  wrote 
home;  "At  this  place  nothing  is  seriously  spoken  of  but  Voltaire.  He  reads  his  tragedies  to 
queens  and  princes  until  they  weep,  at  the  same  time  excelling  the  king  in  witticism  and 
burlesque.  In  this  town  nobody  is  considered  educated  who  does  not  carry  the  poet's  work  in 
his  head  or— in  his  pocket." 

§  170.  This  brings  us  face  to  face  with  the  modern  state.  To  Frederick,  the 
Great,  nothing  was  more  repugnant  than  organised  societies. 

The  circumstances  during  his  reign,  enlightenment  in  its  free  sweep,  and  his 
inclinations  molded  by  training  and  experience,  the  bureaucratic  machinery  of  gov- 
ernment, which  he  regulated  in  avoidance  of  the  star-chambers  ruling  in  contem- 
poraneous states,  rendered  the  autocratic  monarchy  complete.  His  concept  of  the 
state  was  that  it  should  keep  aloof  from  religious  entanglements;  and  that  the  king 
as  its  first  servant  should  also  stand  neutral  as  to  religious  party  strifes.  On  that 
score  it  was  Frederick's  maxim  that  every  one  of  his  subjects  should  believe  and  live 
according  to  individual  preference— so  long  as  his  idea  of  the  monarchy  permitted. 
To  decide  what  was  in  order  this  side  the  line  of  religious  indifference,  either 
Tersteegen's  pietism  or  Wolf's  rationalism,  etc.,  was  the  office  of  the  state-church.  Of 
course,  this  rationalistic  state-church  just  then  served  her  first  term  as  the  first  hand- 
maid of  the  state;  whose  first  servant  was  a  kind  of  "acting  bishop",  within  his 
country  as  in  his  diocese.  In  this  enlightened  despotism  we  recognise  again  the 
guarded  indifference  and  tolerance  found  in  various  other  places,  where  anything 
assuming  a  color  of  religiousness  is  tolerated,  if  only  external  conformity  to  the 
official  religion  of  the  state  is  observed  for  reasons  of  state,  and  where,  therefore,  the 
ideas  of  the  subjects  are  cautiously  watched,  notwithstanding  affected  indifference 
and  tolerance. 

The  Marshal  of  Saxony,  for  instance,  dared  to  propose  to  the  king  to  legalise  marriages 
for  periods  of  five  years,  whereby  rich  gains  in  the  number  of  recruits  for  military  service 
would  surely  be  realised.  "This  king,"  said  Hegel,  who  certainly  ought  to  have  fully  under- 
stood him,  "was  the  first  reigning  prince,  who  philosophically  comprehended  the  aim  of  the 
state  as  a  whole— who  always  acted  in  accord  with  the  general  idea  before  him,  and  who  dis- 
countenanced specialties  inconsistent  with,  or  detrimental  to,  this  general  aim." 

The  king  in  his  capacity  as  "bishop"  decided  what  was  against  the  general  interests. 
Unless  this  is  kept  in  view,  it  cannot  be  fully  apprehended  to  what  extent  the  religious  side  of 
the  thought  of  humanity  was  kept  in  bondage.  Notwithstanding  the  humane  assurances  of 
allowing  everybody  to  go  to  Heaven  sans  f aeon,  such  a  state  has  obviously  no  room  for  a  free 
church.  The  predilection  of  Hegel  for  this  sort  of  enlightened  absolutism  is  explained  by  the 
same  reasons  enunciated  at  the  instance  of  those  ancient  monarchies,  where  despotic  govern- 
ments abetted  the  cultures  based  upon  indefinite  ideas  about  the  deities,  and  antagonised 
every  manifestation  of  individual  selfhood.  To  monarchical  absolutism  in  its  latest  form  the 
nations  of  Europe  owe  the  establishment  of  modern  state-machinery  inclusive  of  stand- 
ing armies;  and  also  the  system  of  arrondissements  which  required  several  territorial 
reconstructions. 

To  round  o£P  this  or  that  province  or  state  at  the  expense  of  third  parties  became 
the  intermittent  fever  of  the  cabinets.  Bruehl  of  Saxony  had  the  house  of  Weissenfels 
dispatched  inside  of  a  few  years.  Eight  granite  coffins  large  and  small  witness  that  the 
court  of  Dresden  must  have  been  an  expert  in  "doing  it  quietly."  No  humanistic  enlighten- 
ment could  hinder  the  partitions  of  Poland,  or  prevent  several  sequestrations— actions  which 
signify  that  princes,  in  proportion  to  their  forces  and  on  the  strength  of  their  connections, 
dared  to  depart  from  the  principle  of  nationality  and  from  mutual  recognition  of  legitimate 
possession.  The  answer  to  these  cabinet  cabals  is  the  rise  of  secret  societies  and  of  anti- 
monarchical  clubs. 

The  Christian  cognition  of  humanism  and  humanity  being  again  rejected,  it  was 
felt  that  a  substitue  was  necessary  for  the  loss  of  unity.  The  North-European  asser- 
tion of  personality  had  degenerated  into  subjectivism  which  now  began  to  question 
all  authority  even  of  the  administration  of  justice.  The  idea  of  the  Supreme  Good 
had  almost  disappeared  from  the  books  of  the  searchers  after  truth,  so  that  in 
consequence  the  objectivity  of  right  and  duty  was  more  than  questioned. 


II  G.  CH.  V.  §  17L         ENLIGHTENMENT  AND  ABSOLUTE  MONARCHISM.  315 

§  171.    An  ideal  conception  of  humanity  became  impossible  under  these  circum-  Political 
stances.    Disintegration  of  the  bonds  of  common  fellowship  and  sympathy  on  the  eniiS?teneT^  ^* 
one  hand,  and  absolutism  on  the  other  should  have  taught  the  thinkers  that  abstract  absolutism, 
thinking  leads  to  a  mist;  that  the  rough  realities  of  life  cannot  be  regulated  by  sub- 
jective thought  and  conflicting  theories  into  which  the  facts,  each  taken  by  itself,  will  drsSardS the** 
not  fit.    It  ought  to  have  become  evident  to  moralisers  that  the  inquiries  as  to  per-  L'TonAy^thf'"'''"*'^ 
sonal  life,  since  Descartes'  propositions  of  scepticism,  carry  with  them  a  despotic  ex-  ^"'""p'^  "^  indivuaiity. 
clusiveness  to  the  extent  of  denying  the  duality  of  the  mind,  and  of  aggravating  its  po^'^^UsoS^  counter- 
confusion  about  itself.     What  then,  without  the  human  "center  of  cohesion"  or  «""«^''^hism. 
uniting  factor,  is  to  become  of  the  tasks  common  to  all  and  obligatory  for  each  Loss  of  the  idea 
member  of  the  human  family,  if  on  the  basis  of  a  onesided  conception  of  personal  bri^rfgs  about^the 
life  each  one  construes  a  world-theory  for  himself  out  of  his  own  age  under  pre-  gubjätivism!  ^^ 
tense  of  the  right  of  private  judgment,  and  if  he  then  insists  upon  rendering  his  own 

^  .        ,  tf        o  7  ^  r  o  Reaction  of  enlightened 

View  as  binding  upon  others.      If  this  is  absurd,  none  can  be  made  binding.      Then  subjectivism  against 

.  .  .  n  .  enlightened  absolutism. 

either  despotism,  which  is  anarchism  from  above,  or  anarchism  which  is  despotism 

„  V,  ii_j.i  ii  Genesis  of  anarchism, 

from  below,  must  be  the  natural  sequence. 

Any  onesided  explanation  of  the  contents  conveyed  in  the  term  of  humanity  can, 

•       XI        ij.  ^    J.  i-ix  ,,x  ii.  ,-.,..,,  ..  Fallacy  of  onesided 

m  the  last  resort,  round  right  and  duty  upon  nothing  but  individual  opinion,  and  can  inquiry  into  humanistic 
offer  no  uniting  principle.    The  incompetency  of  erroneous  doctrines  as  to  the  human  abuse  oFthe 
soul  and  spirit  shows  itself  practically  in  the  severance  of  humanity,  inasmuch  as  [ilgL^ent"^**® 
false  theorising  on  that  score  will  nourish  hatred  between  the  governing  and  the  p^^.^j  ^^  ^^^  ^.^^^,^ 
governed  in  the  first  place,  until  the  peril  threatening  the  social  relations  in  general,  confus^ioTanrifavesl 
the  danger  of  disintegration,  materialises.    No  statesmanship  can  save  a  nation  from  ^°/J,s  of  c^ivursed  ufe*^* 
falling  asunder  under  the  auspices  of  a  humanism  severed  from  theism.  ^hesiin^^^  "center  of 

"The  present  mania  for  general  legislation  in  the  abstract  is  a  menace  to  liberty  in  gen-     ^  *^'  *^'  ^*'  '^'  ^**'  ^^' 
eral",  was  that  of  which  Moeser  complained.    "They  contrive  to  adjudge  every  case  by  printed 
statutes,  regardless  of  the  variety  of  circumstances  in  each  particular  case,  according  to  which 
justice  is  to  be  administered.    Because  Yoltaire  made  it  ridiculous,  that  one  lost  his  case 
according  to  the  laws  of  his  village— which  according  to  the  laws  of  another  village  in  the 
vicinity  he  would  have  won— the  demand  for  general  rules  and  for  tolerating  no  others  is  vo- 
ciferated.   Proceeding  in  this  course  we  would  depart  from  the  true  plan  of  nature  with  its  Nations 
wealth  of  variety,  and  we  would  invite  that  despotism  which  presses  everything  into  a  few  under^imanism 
mechanical  molds".  cut  loose  from 

This  dire  complaint  was  made  too  late.    It  arose  even  from  a  miscomprehension  of  the  theism, 
necessity  of  progress  in  jurisprudence  as  indicated  by  Grotius'  natural  and  national  rights.  Effects  thereof  upon 
As  touching  upon  the  leveling  of  justice  to  that  equality  before  the  law  which  sets  up  jurymen  jurisprudence.      m<ese» 
called  from  among  the  professional  court-house  bummers  and  ward-politicians,  as  if  this 
would  answer  the  principle  of  each  to  be  judged  by  his  peers,  Moeser's  warning  will  remain  a 
reproach  against  the  propensity  of  radicalism  to  degrade  humanity  to  one  common,  low  level. 
Radicalism  makes  it  its  business  to  trample  under  foot  whatever  stands  out  excellent  from  the 
broad  stratum  of  general  vulgarity— by  the  abuse  of  the  old  German  jury-system  and  of  the 
impartiality  of  law  to  which  modern  equality  is  no  equivalent.    But  since  we  are  on  that 
level  already,  Moeser's  protest  came  too  late. 

We  have  arrived  at  the  age  of  enlightenment  in  full  glare  which,  as  Schiller  des-  jary.system. 
cribed,  becomes  in  crude  hands  a  firebrand  devastating  countries  and  laying  cities  in  ^.  ^,^1,^^^  httothe 
ashes.    According  to  Kant  "enlightenment  is  man's  outgrowing  his  selfinflicted  de-  ^atTon^istichumanism 
pendency."    Catholic  as  well  as  Protestant  theologians  had  understood  this  long  f^^lT 

before  Kant;  Lessing's  "fragments"  came  not  unexpectedly  to  the  support  of  ration-  |^^^^ 

alism.  Man  with  his  reason  has  been  made  judge  of  all  things.  "Religion  inside  the 
limits  of  pure  reason",  and  "education  of  the  human  race"  were  the  catch-words  of 
the  time.  They  were  the  field-cries  throughout  the  combat  in  which  a  shallow  knowl- 
edge showed  defiance  against  a  deeper  exposition  of  the  true  nature  of  the  human 
mind.  A  few  independent  anthropologists  were  simply  nicknamed  for  want  of 
argument  against  their  deeper  solution  of  the  problems  growing  from  the  duality  of 
personal  life. 

Upon  the  whole,  humanity  as  represented  by  the  occidental  Aryans  had  attained 
to  the  great  opinion  of  itself,  that  it  now  had  entered  into  the  full  possession  of 
human  rights  and  had  achieved  perfect  selfknowledge.  Under  the  spell  of  selfde- 
lusion  and  self  sufficiency  this  humanity  in  partibus  writes  its  history:  histories  of 
all  nations  spring  up,  histories  of  all  sorts  of  poesy,  of  all  religions. 


816 


POLABITY  BETWEEN  DOGMATIC  AND  FREE  THOUGHT.         11  G.  Ch.  V.  §  171. 


Humanism  to  supplant 
rationalistic  religion. 

Hesder. 

Uniting  and  attractive 

center  of 
cohesion  missing, 
the  church  is 
made  to 
equipoise 
conflicting: 
humanistic 
Tiews. 

schletrmachxr. 

Kaftan. 


But  the  church  as  a 
compromise  cannot 
supplant  the  true  center 
of  humanity. 


To  the  "enllghtened''thi9 
King,  the  Mediator  had 
become  obsolete. 


Polarity  between 
church  and  state  aiiaä 
at  realising  the  idea  of 
humanism. 

§  119,  Ul,  159,  168,  177. 


Polarity  between 
ecclesiastical  life  and 
civil  society  at  large. 

§  119,  159,  168,  177. 


The  stage  of  culture 
whereupon 

church  and 
society  agree 
upon  latitudi- 
narianism". 


Accepting  the  doctrine 
of  'contrat  sociale"  the 
state  ceases  to  be 
Christian,  to  the  great 
satisfaction  of  popery. 

i  147,  US,  175. 


Whenever  written 
"confessions"  are  held 
among  nominal 
Christians  in  general, 
tobe 


identical  with  "the 
faith'  ; 

whenever  every  citizen 
of  the  neutralised  state 
is  eo  ipso  considered  a 
voting  member  of  the 
church 

then  are  theologians  at 
fuult  in 

allowing  the  dual. 


Herder  combined  it  all  into  his  "ideas,"  trying  to  show  forth  the  deeper  relationship 
between  nature  and  grace,  or  reason  and  revelation.  He  tried  to  supplant  rationalistic 
moralism  by  the  idea  of  humanity,  which  he  luade  intelligible  and  popular  in  its  full  mean- 
ing by  showing  that :  "Humanism  is  both  at  once,  the  religion  and  the  goal  of  all  men."  What- 
ever, after  Descartes,  a  subjectivistic  investigation  ofhuman  nature  may  possibly  accomplish 
from  below  has  certainly  been  obtained  by  Herder.  But  from  the  lack  of  means  which  his 
rationalistic  state-churchism  could  not  furnish,  he  failed  to  demonstrate  the  cardinal  factor 
of  his  humanitarianism.  That  the  uniting  center  of  attraction  was  missing,  was  felt  by 
Schleiermacher,  who  (like  Kaftan  and  Ritschl  at  present)  supposed  that  the  default  could  be 
remedied  by  proving  the  connection  existing  between  all  things,  and  by  emphasising  the  idea 
of  the  church. 

It  could  avail  but  little  to  repristinate  the  dogma  of  the  church  in  the  place  of 
the  lost  momentum  from  which  the  thought  of  humanism  and  the  unity  of  humanity 
had  taken  its  rise.  Only  where  the  contrasts  resting  in  human  nature  are  reconciled 
through  the  Mediator,  and  after  they  have  been  brought  to  full  consciousness,  these 
contrasts  become  practically  modified  and  harmonised.  In  other  words,  to  "enlight- 
ened" thinking  He  had  become  obsolete,  in  whom  alone  the  measure  and  coherency  of 
all  things  is  to  be  found,  in  whom  the  ethical  obligations  and  the  eternal  destiny  of 
humanity  are  exhibited  in  the  concrete. 

The  conflicts  between  Church  and  State,  each  representing  one  side  of  the  problem 
to  be  worked  out  in  coordinate  methods  of  cooperation,  have  a  still  deeper  significance 
than  that  referred  to  in  §  159.  These  conflicts  which  have  always  agitated  history 
result  from  the  polarity  between  ecclesiastical  and  civil  life  treated  of  in  §  119.  Each 
of  these  spheres  is  animated  by  the  energy  to  realise  its  conception  of  the  ideal  of 
what  is  purely  and  truly  human,  the  one  representing  the  natural,  the  other  the 
spiritual  pole  of  the  synthesis:  until  the  converging  movements  of  history  under 
higher  guidance  render  their  unification  complete. 

The  necessity  of  discriminating  between  the  antithetical  constituents  of  human 
nature  and  of  humanity  in  general,  and  the  necessity  of  dividing  the  work  among 
the  spheres  of  religion  and  ethics  through  cultus  and  culture,  could  become  evident 
in  no  other  way  but  by  the  bearing  of  theories  upon  the  course  of  events,  or,  as  has 
been  said,  by  the  import  of  the  historic  undercurrents  upon  the  transactions  of  his- 
tory. As  far  as  "enlightenment"  is  concerned,  this  necessary  polarity  between  the  two 
spheres  entertaining  each  its  side  of  the  matter  under  discussion,  had  not  been  under- 
stood. In  the  "higher"  grades  of  humanity,  at  lea  st,  the  import  of  that  part  of 
humanism  which  the  church  is  to  cultivate,  was  considered  immaterial  and  irrele- 
vant. The  polarity  was  paralysed  by  treating  the  spiritual  side  as  contradictory  to 
humanism. 

Unfortunately  the  church,  too,  on  the  other  hand,  ignored  this  polarity.  The 
ecclesiastical  community  falls  into  the  error  that  the  state  is  Christian,  and  that 
therefore  every  citizen  is  ipso  facto  a  member  of  the  church.  The  public  had  not 
become  aware  of  the  fact,  that  with  the  acceptance  of  the  doctrine  of  the  state  being  a 
"contrat  sociale"  the  state  ceased  to  be  Christian;  and  that  the  church,  by  recognising 
any  individual  of  the  very  promiscuous  civil  society  as  a  church-member  also,  had 
allowed  the  opinion  to  prevail,  as  tho  she  had  assumed  the  nature  of  the  promiscuous 
public  in  her  participation  of  progressiveness,  and  was  therefore  to  be  put  on  a  level 
with  other  self  constituted  associations.  The  difference  between  the  church  and  the 
world  is  removed  because  both  apparently  cover  the  same  ground;  the  Church  becomes 
humanistic  and  is  considered  to  be  of  mere  human  origin;  Christendom  and  Chris- 
tianity are  deemed  as  equivalent. 

The  ministry  accommodates  itself  to  this  public  opinion.  Society  on  its  part  nar- 
rows the  idea  of  the  church  to  the  circle  of  the  theologians,  or  overstrains  the  idea  of  the 
general  priesthood  of  all  Christians,  whilst  the  theologians  on  their  part  acquiesce  in  the 
common  interpretation  of  humanism  as  sufficient  for  religion.  External  adherency  to  a  con- 
fession, a  "symbol  of  faith,"  now  called  "the  faith,"  is  deemed  sufficient  for  being  considered 
a  Christian;  it  is  held  almost  as  meritorious  if  one  still  believes  in  a  "higher  being,"  Gradu- 
ally the  esteem  in  which  the  confession  was  held  diminishes;  and  even  in  the  church  the 
recognition  of  orthodox  doctrine  becomes  dim  and  is  considered  unessential.  Those  who  were 
appointed  guardians  and  defenders  of  the  full  and  dual  bearing  of  that  which  the  term 
humanity  contains,  are  the  stewards  of  the  divine  mystery  implied  in  it  no  longer.  For  by 
concert  of  opinion  the  Church,  in  order  to  remain  popular  with  society  and  with  the  masses, 
is  determined  as  much  as  society  upon  the  process  of  leveling.     Flat  superüciality  on  the  part 


n  G.  Ch.  VI.  §  172.  RELIGIOUS  SIDE  OF  HUMANISTICS.  317 

of  ecclesiastical  rhetoric — now  called  "sacred  elocution" — is  taken  for  profound  prudence,  bearing  of  what  the 
since  popularity  is  taken  for  success  in  enlarging  the  number  of  membership.    In  its  method  to'^S^comeYgnorldT^'** 
of  keeping  account  of  members  joined  and  dollars  collected,  the  church  becomes  "flatitudiua-  '^^'^  are.each  on  his  part, 
rian"  indeed ;  and  by  applying  the  methods  through  which  moneys  are  made  up.  she  becomes  leveling  process  lowering 
worldly  in  an  alarmii^g  degree.  Zil^Uss  d^^rld'ing 

On  the  whole,  enlightenment  as  a  historical  movement  had  to  be  instmmental,  t^e  church  in  an 
nevertheless,  in  the  further  development  of  the  idea  of  humanity  inasmuch  as  it  »'»'^•"''»k  degree. 
applied  this  jdea  to  all  phases  of  practical  life  despite  its  onesided  conception.     Altho  it 
was  so  onesided  in  its  moralising  that  Christmas-sermons  of  that  period  are  extant,  in 
which  "the  utility  of  wintering  cattle  in  stables"    was  made  the  topic,  instead  of  the 
nativity  of  the  Savior,  The  True  Man:— yet  that  moralising  of  enlightened  ration- 
alism bore  the  good  fruit  of  a  thorough  humiliation  through  a  Napoleon.    For  it  is 
questionable  whether  without  this  humiliation  the  sense  of  liberty  and  unity  would  humffidV/a""*"*" 
have  outlived  "enlightenment",  and  whether  the  import  of  religion  upon  human  life  »''^t«"<=''»  chastisement. 
would  have  been  so  readily  acknowledged  again  and  so  easily  restored. 

Enlightenment  had  to  serve  the  purpose  of  ventilating  the  humanistic-cultural  statl-churchumf 
side  in  opposition  to  the  domineering  altho  servile  state-churchism.    Through  an  ^^IdYte  pu^Jo'^se^  ^^"^ 
entire  century  the  state-churches  had  allowed  the  neglect  of  ethical  studies  withal 
the  preaching  of  utilitarian  morals;  much  less  had  these  churches  the  courage  to 

,  ,  x-       1  •  •  i_  state -church  ism,  charged 

demand  practical  exercise  of  humaneness.  to  keep  the  puwic 

ai  p  Hsed  at  any  rate,  hal 

Theology  was  at  fault.  For  it  was  in  consequence  of  the  subtle  controversies  about  the  neglected  to  discriminate 
"eommunicatio  idiomatum"'  that  the  doctrine  of  the  true  humanity  of  the  Mediator  had  been  nioraiism\nd  ChrUtian 
rendered  suspect  of  heresy  in  almost  Byzantine  fashion,  that  the  secularised  thinking  of  fjhics,  and  to  demand 

-,,,,,  ,  ...  .  ,  o    .  .  .         the  exercise  of 

society  found  the  church  only  too  ready  to  go  with  it  to  the  other  extreme  of  ignoring  the  humaneness. 
dogma  of  the  deity  of  the  Christ.    The  Church  abetted  enlightenment  to  such  lengths,  as  that 
the  great  polar  tension  between  the  Church  and  society  in  general— which  is  necessary  to  pre-  an  almost  Byzantine 
serve  the  religious  side  of  the  dualism  manifest  in  human   life,  but  requires  self  discipline  becom7n*'tired  o'f'them 
under  auspices  of  an  authoritative  spiritual  censorship— had  become  almost  entirely  neu-  fails  in  with  the 
tralised.    The  Church  had  too  much  conformed  herself  to  the  "world"— and  had  thereby  un*chu!chiyVuWic. 
become  degraded  to  a  kind  of  spiritual  police  for  maintaining  order  in  the  State.  conforms  itself  to  th« 

"world". 

CH.  VI.    CIVILISATION  RENDERED  TRANS-OCEANIC,  AND  THE  THOUGHT  OP 
HUMANISM  COSMOPOLITAN. 

§  172.    After  the  severe  chastisement  contracted  and  sustained  by  the  presump- 
tuous and  irreligious  humanistics  and  by  the  insipid  state-churchly  rationalism,  we  m^vemeTteln'd 
hail  the  turn  of  the  tide  bearing  upon  its  enlarging  wave-circle  the  neglected  relig-  churcTism'*'  Tur^Tof  the 
ions  side  of  humanism.    This  "reactionary"  movement,  as  the  "freethinkers"  called  enrrS"va"rci!des 
it,  affected,  in  the  first  place,  those  nations  which  on  that  account  became  now  the  reiigfous^side  of 
influential  nations  of  the  Occident;  not  that  their  intellectualism  just  looked  into  humanism, 
created  the  new  sera— at  least  not  that  alone.  The  new  formations  in  course  of  prepa-  New  »ra  not  created  by 
ration  required  the  extension  of  transmarine  relations  in  which  a  practical  and  free  J"Af  Ihf Säio^of 
will  got  opportunities  to  manifest  itself.    The  new  formations  ensuing  furthermore  refadSlS^"^ 
caused  the  reaction  which  the  extended  relations  were  bound  to  call  forth  in  the  requiring  the  energies  o« 

free  will. 

countries  where  that  extension  of  civilising  influences  originated. 

The  Hollanders  under  Philip    had  been  first  in  pointing  out  the  direction  in 
which  the  cause  of  true  humanism  might  ramify.      The  reaction  alluded  to  was  to  SongouIIi'^iitetratum 
come,  first  in  order,  from  the  United  States.      The  European  nations  were  thus  and  I^^ew  ktndT*"^"*  ^^ 
now  brought  into  permanent  contact  with  the  ethnical  substratum  of  the  Ugro- Altaic  «»i»"*«''«»'^- 
and  Mongolian  nations  east  and  west  of  Europe. 

In  the  East,  Europeans  laid  their  hands  upon  Siberia,  thereby  freshening  up  certain  old 
memories.  We  remember  the  slight  acquaintances  formerly  made  through  Alexander,  then 
some  communication  by  way  of  the  silk-road,  then  on  the  occasions  when  the  Huns  paid  the 
Europeans  a  few  visits,  then  at  another  call  on  the  day  that  the  popes  disciplined  some  Saxons, 
and  for  the  last  time  when,  shortly  after  Marco  Polo's  return,  Albuquerque,  and  again  the 
Geuses.  returned  all  those  visits  and  knocked  at  the  doors  of  China  and  Japan. 

In  the  countries  of  the  setting  sun,  whither  Mongolians  had  migrated  evidently  the 
wrong  way— for  culture  so  far  had  ever  taken  the  westward  course— Mongolian  empires  had 
been  founded  and  destroyed.  Remnants  of  theTshitshimekians  were  met  with,  who  (most  likely 
during  the  invasions  of  Dgengis-Khan's  hordes),  had  at  about  1200  A.  D.  left  Asia  by  way  of 
the  Aleutes,  and  spread  over  the  substratum  of  a  preceding  culture.  A  still  higher  culture  was 
obtained  under  Toltecian  and  Aztecian  dynasties  which  seem  to  have  followed  at  the  time  of 
the  new  commotions  caused  by  Eublai  Ehau. 


k 


818 


REACTION  OF  "THE  AMERICAN  REPUBLIC"  AGAINST  PSEUDO-HUMANISTICS.     11  G.  CH.  VI  §  1 73. 


Purpert  of  trana-oceanio 
connections. 


Revival  of  missionary 
impulses. 


Latin  nations  In  the 
initiative,  controlling 
the  seas. 


Significant  scene  at 
Rome. 

g  142,  144,  145,  149. 


Asia  paying  Tiomage  to 
the  pope. 


Asiatic  patriarchal 
authority  transferred 
upon  the  ruler  of  the 
state. 


which  ideal  form  of 
ruling  is  practically  not 
transferrable  to  the 
extent  of  an  empire. 

%  b6, 115. 


Rome,  ]ust  as  much  as 
Peking,  treated  the 
nations  as  minors. 


Germanic  nations  made 
different  use  of  the 
transoceanic 
connections. 


Signal  successes  of  the 
"water  beggars". 

i  166,  168,  174 


Relations,  then,  are  forming  of  which  nobody  had  ever  thought,  not  even 
those  who  just  then  were  engaged  in  analysing  and  anatomising  "humanity" 
with  cuts  of  reason  more  or  less  dull.  And  with  these  new  relations  there  rushed 
into  Europe  a  flood  of  new  thoughts.  Remarkable  rays  of  a  light,  kindled  by 
old  remembrances  about  going  and  teaching  all  nations,  beckoned  westward. 
Those  who  had  been  waiting  for  the  dawn  of  that  light  had  experienced  sore  disap- 
pointments during  the  conquests  and  colonial  exploits  to  which  the  Europeans  at 
first  betook  themselves,  attracted  by  rumors  of  gold. 

The  Roman  nations  inaugurated  their  colonial  enterprises  upon  the  ground  that 
the  pope  had  America  portioned  out  to  them  for  the  purpose  of  "compelling"  the 
aborigines  to  enter  the  Kingdom.  It  was  for  this  reason  that  Spain  and  Portugal 
claimed  sole  control  over  the  seas;  and  that  Philip  expected  the  influx  of  gold  from 
Peru  in  support  of  Alva's  attempt  to  extirpate  heresy  on  Dutch  territory. 

Remarkable  rays  of  light  thrown  upon  old  remembrances— which  had  been  pre- 
served in  childish  tales  about  fairy-lands,  sought  at  first  by  the  western  route— had 
at  the  same  time  led  a  new  generation  of  Europeans  to  the  East. 

On  the  12th  of  March,  1514,  the  grand  embassy  of  Portugal  held  its  entree  into  Borne, 
bringing  the  news  of  the  discovery  of  Malacca.  It  was  made  the  occasion  for  the  Orient  to  do 
homage  to  the  Vice- God  of  Rome — for  the  extremes  to  meet.  Marshaled  by  heralds,  a  rich 
donation  was  carried  up  to  him,  which  consisted  of  the  costliest  vestments  decked  with  pre- 
cious stones,  and  golden  vessels.  Surrounded  by  these  presents  a  Persian  horse  headed  the 
procession.  Gorgeously  caparisoned  it  was  led  along  under  the  jubilee  of  the  spectators  lining 
the  streets,  because  on  the  back  of  this  horse  rode  a  leopard  trained  for  the  hunt.  Then  an 
elephant  of  largest  size  came  waddling  along.  From  the  citadel  of  St.  Angelo  cannons 
thundered  the  salutes  across  the  Tiber  up  to  Peter's  grave.  Diego  Pacheco  delivered  the  grand 
oration  and— thrice  the  elephant  fell  upon  the  knees  before  Leo  X. 

Pageants  and  anecdotes  are  instructive,  inasmuch  as  they  express  the  mode  of 
thinking  and  the  world-consciousness  of  a  people  prevailing  at  a  given  period  of 
time.  This  thinking  and  going  upon  adventurous  expeditions  was  accompanied 
with  the  inclination  to  lay  the  world  at  the  feet  of  the  father  of  the  Christian  house- 
hold in  filial  obedience  and  devotion.  This  is  one  of  the  few  traits  which  might 
reconcile  one  with  such  an  arrangement  for  ruling  the  fates  of  humanity  and  with 
the  disposition  to  submit  to  such  paternal  rule.  This  trait  is  similar  to  the  single 
redeeming  feature  of  Asiatic  life  pursuant  to  which  the  authority  of  the  house-father 
is  transferred  to  the  ruler  of  the  state.  This  patriarchal  principle  is  ideal  and 
amiable,  even  if  subverted  into  oriental  despotism.  But  admiring,  perhaps  in  a 
sentimental  mood,  this  ideal,  as  some  of  us  have,  it  was  forgotten  that  with  the 
transfer  of  patriarchal  authority  to  one  who  rules  over  a  large  territory,  the  childlike 
attachment  and  the  parental  love  holding  a  family  of  good  breeding  together,  cannot 
be  transmitted  to  the  sovereign  of  a  multitude  of  diverse  tribes,  much  less  of  a  variety 
of  nationalities.  In  spheres  thus  extended  sentiments  soon  cease  to  reciprocate. 
Patriarchal  rule  and  obedience  to  it  then  assume  the  nature  of  cold  business  transac- 
tions and  despotic  regulations,  under  such  government  spiritual  advance  is  out  of  the 
question;  for  nations  treated  as  minors  will  never  attain  to  manliness  and  selfhood. 
And  since  this  was  the  condition  of  the  subjects  of  Rome  just  as  much  as  in 
Peking,  we  are  compelled  to  extend  this  conclusion  to  the  Roman  principle  of  coloni- 
sation, as  implied  in  and  illustrated  by  the  display  of  patriarchal  affection  at  the 
beginning  of  Rome's  trans-oceanic  connections. 

^  173.  The  Germanic  nations  entered  these  connections  in  a  different  manner.  First 
in  order  to  extend  the  influence  of  the  reformed  religion  were  the  water-beggars.  These 
outlaws  were  virtually  the  founders  of  the  second  republic  in  the  delta  of  the  Rhine, 
after  the  pattern  of  the  Swiss  republican  confederacy  established  at  its  head.  The 
dashing  daringness,  with  which  "the  Brill"  was  snatched  from  the  clutches  of  Alva, 
encouraged  the  Hollanders  in  their  gloomiest  days  and  rekindled  the  fire  of  patriotism. 
The  freebooters  developed  into  a  regular  navy.  Trade  followed  and  created  the  Dutch 
East-India  Company,  whilst  the  England  of  Elizabeth  as  yet  traded  with  Persia  by 
way  of  Russian  overland  routes.  The  horizon  continued  to  widen;  such  companies  as 
the  Russian,  the  African,  the  Turkish,  and  English  East-Indian,  started  up  in  quick 
succession,  all  equipped  with  the  privileges  of  great .  monopolies.    The  ports  in 


II  G.  CH.  VI.  §  173.  GENESIS  OF  THE  PROTESTANT  MARINE  POWERS.  3X0 

America  were  secured  and  French  preoccupants  pushed  aside.    On  land  and  upon  the  Marines  of  aomanised 
waters  Germanic  mariners  met  and  vanquished  the  Roman.    The  net  result  of  the  s^nd^yTmÄ  *** 
contest  was  destined  to  benefit  mankind  in  general. 

Finally  the  western  Aryans  met  the  eastern  again  for  the  first  time  since  they  After  long  separation  th« 
had  separated  upon  the  terraces  of  Iran;  one  branch  moving  west,  the  other  taking  I^'i^TmätS^n" 
possession  of  the  large  peninsula  between  the  Indus  and  the  Ganges.     Their  meeting  Fate  of  the  Hindoos 
again  at  the  opening  of  the  new  sera  was  of  incalculable  import.  »'°''« **>**  separation. 

After  the  Mongolian  had  set  foot  upon    the    neck  of  the   peaceable  Hindoo  in   the 
time  of  Babur,  Grand-moguls  held  sway  over  the  length  and  breadth  of  the  Aryan  country ;  Hind^'*r^*cw'*vL^if  * 
after  the  death  of  Aureng-Zebs  the  downtrodden  nation  lay  distracted.    The  satraps  declared  of  the  British  crown, 
themselves  independent;  but  the  subjugated  peoples  rattled    their  chains  in  vain.     England 
needed  but  little  strategy  to  intervene  in  the  internecine  wars  of  the  Indian  rulers,  and  little 
effort  to  master  and  manage  these  nations  by  making  the  native  rivals  English  vassals.    Of 
course,  in  order  to  maintain  English  dominion,  conquests  became  necessary.    The  wars  with 
the  Marattes  were  victoriously  brought  to  a  termination,  and  Pitt,  by  means  of  the  famous  Cancellation  of  the 
East-India  Bill  prevented  the  East-India  Company  from  becoming  a  state  within  the  state,  com^Tn"*  *^*  ^'*"^* 
so  that  after  the  lapse  of  nearly  a  century  D'Israeli  was  enabled  to  earn  the  glory  of  having 
added  an  empire  to  the  crown  of  Victoria.    England  became,  as  Heeren  judged,  "a  market  for  ind/anterith*'^HEKS!r 
the  products  of  English  manufactories  and   a   whirlpool  in   which   the   Indian   treasures 
disappeared." 

It  may  be  that  from  the  start  the  India-budget  was  a  money  speculation.  Indeed,  those 
hundred  millions,  which  England  received  from  Indian  sources  every  year,  amply  covered  the 
original  cost.  These  millions  upon  millions  prove  the  rich  resources  opened  with  cheap 
Indian  labor,  and  prove  the  enormous  advantages  accruing  from  the  new  relations  for  both  hTv^s^t^ents"''**'''* 
countries.  English  capital  rendered  the  moist  and  fertile  lowlands  and  the  Alpine  meadows 
profitable.  Hence  to  the  cause  of  humanity,  which  Providence,  overruling  history,  has  at 
heart,  the  fifty  millions  realised  by  Indian  cotton-raising  alone  are  of  higher  significance 
than  the  fact  that  British  capital  found  its  safest  investment  in  Indian  enterprises.  These 
millions  shall  not  lead  us  to  ask  whether  we  have  merely  to  deal  with  mercenary  schemes  to 
mulct  India  systematically.  We  have  a  deeper  interest  in  these  results  than  the  cash-balance 
sheet  sets  forth,  inasmuch  as  they  prove  the  permeation  of  the  Hindoo  nations  with  elements 
of  European  culture.  Ignorant  as  to  the  bearing  of  these  factors  upoi^  their  future  fate,  the  '°*^**  *  benefit. 
Hindoos  could  do  nothing  but  submit  to  the  unavoidable.  The  issues  growing  out  of  this 
mode  of  disseminating  Christian  world-consciousness  will  evince  themselves  as  highly  satis- 
factory to  the  Indian  people,  if  the  process  continues  in  a  tolerably  humane  way  under  just 
and  judicious  rule. 

Concerning  England  this  relation  instantly  became  of  far  higher  value  than  the 
financial  profits.    The  best  interest  drawn  from  the  Indian  investments  consisted  in  ^rofiteVeTertiSr^''*'^ 
the  stimulating  reaction  upon  the  religious  life  of  the  ruling  nation.    This  blessing  ^^"^'^""^ 
manifested  itself  immediately  in  the  revival  of  the  missionary  zeal  quickening  the  feaVinvigor^äf  °"^ 
activity  of  the  high-churchism  of  the  state,  which  of  yore  had  incited  the  English  ""k»*"- "*«  **  J»<"°«- 
people  to  sympathise  with  their  cousins  on  the  continent. 

Since  Alexander's  expedition  so  little  had  been  heard  of  India  that  Europe  simply  won- 
dered at  the  legends  about  an  oriental  "Prester  John"  entwined  with  the  rumors  about  the 
marvelous  wealth  of  India.    The  great  country  of  the  East  appeared  to  the  mind  of  Europe  as 
a  distant  mountain,  inaccessible  on  account  of  the  Turks.    Now  it  was  open  for  intercourse 
bv  way  of  doubling  the  Cape  of  Good  Hope,  the  realities  of  the  once  mysterious  regions  sur- 
passed the  dreams  of  the  European  cousins.    And  for  the  realities  of  the  present  life  the  east-  p    br     c 
«rn  Aryans  were  now  reclaimed  from  their  dreamy  existence  under  the  incubus  of  a  self  con-  Hope  öpL^^india  to"* 
structed  invisible  world,  awakening  when  they  became  aware  of  the  practical  energy  with  EuroTwhir^on  land 
"which  the  western  Aryan  labored  to  overcome  difficulties.  had  been  obstmcted  by 

he  Turks. 

The  widely  contrasting  peculiarities  of  consciousness  caused  each  branch  of  the 
same  race  to  come  again  in  contact  one  with  the  other,  whereby  the  Hindoo  frame  of 
mind  is  to  become  elevated  to  its  normal  balance.  For,  in  the  midst  of  the  times 
since  their  separation,  the  point  of  equipoise  had  been  provided  for,  at  which  their 
estranging  views  of  life  might  become  reconciled ;  the  synthesis  of  the  polar  antithesis 
had  in  the  meantime  become  revealed,  the  "synthesis"  of  the  seeming  contradictory  The  Anglo- 
ideas  which  had  always  swayed  both  groups  of  the  Aryans.  with  div1din"^th^ 

It  remains,  for  the  present  at  least,  the  task  of  the  Anglo-Saxons  to  divide  the  commoÄtetor 
inheritance  of  Christianity  with  the  Hindoos,  as  it  behooves  relatives.    But  in  antici-^j/^ti^^e^s®"^*^'"* 
pating  Asiatic  prospects  we  have  rather  gone  ahead  of  our  theme. 


t 


320 

Benefits  accruing 
to  Europe  from 
the  reaction  of 
America  against 
false  conceptions 
of  the  humanistic 
thought. 

Dutch  taking  the 
initiative  in 
colonising  North 
America. 

§  166, 168, 173. 


I'rice  paid  the  Indians 
for  the  Manhattan 
peninsula. 


The  f ortyone 

{)ilgrims  on 
)oard  the 
"Mayflower." 


Simple  and  sincere 
social  contract 
witnessed  for  the  first 
time  in  history,  different 
from  that  of  Jesuitical 
invention. 

Ideas  of  the  human 
right  to  be  independent. 


Draft  of  the  first 
constitution  for  normal 
selfgovernment  at 
Mecklenburg,  N  C. 


Grand 

instrument  of 
modern 
civilisation  1776. 


Norman  traits 
discarded;  Anglo-Saxon 
traits  fostered. 


XJNITED  STATES.— EVANGELICAL  HUMANISTICS  APPLIED.         11.  G.  Ch.  VI.  §  174. 

§  174.  At  the  present  stage  of  this  disquisition  it  is  our  aim  to  show  how  the 
transmarine  relations  extended  the  horizon  of  the  European  nations,  and  how  these 
new  relations  reacted  upon  their  political  economy  and  their  social  and  religious  life. 
No  sooner  had  the  Europeans  taken  a  glance  at  the  East,  than  that  they  slowly  com- 
menced to  branch  out  to  the  new  western  continent  also.  Altho  very  little  attention 
had  so  far  been  given  to  America,  yet  it  was  destined  that  from  thence  the  greatest, 
most  direct  and  most  wholesome  influences  should  be  derived.  The  Dutch  had  taken 
the  initiative  in  founding  a  North  American  colony,  ever  since  William  of  Nassau- 
Orange  had  taken  that  step  into  consideration,  when  it  seemed  as  tho  Holland  was  to 
be  sacrificed  to  Spanish  fury,  and  abandoned  to  the  sea  from  which  it  had  been 
wrested. 

Ten  shirts,  thirty  pairs  of  stockings,  ten  shotguns  with  ammunition,  thirty  iron 
kettles  and  a  copper  pan  they  had  paid  for  the  land  upon  which  New  York  stands 
today. 

After  this  beginning  the  British  began  to  look  after  their  interests  in  the  region 
of  New  Amsterdam,  and  to  put  in  their  claims.  Upon  this  new  soil  colonial  life 
thenceforth  produced  new  ideas  which  in  Europe  had  never  been  heard  of  before. 
Powerfully  did  these  ideas  react  upon  the  mother  country,  its  state-policy  and  its 
comfort. 

Those  forty-one  men,  who  in  the  month  of  December  A.  D.  1620  stood  around  the 
table  in  the  cabin  of  the  Mayflower,  were  British  Nonconformists.  They  stood  wait- 
ing in  solemn  mood  for  their  turn  to  subscribe  the  first  constitution  which  was  based 
upon  the  equality  of  the  rights  of  each  and  all.  It  meant  a  simple  social  contract 
the  like  of  which  the  world  had  as  yet  never  witnessed.  Based  upon  the  freedom  of 
conscience,  political  freedom  was  warranted.  What  would  have  been  impossible  in 
Europe  was  born  upon  the  waves  of  the  Atlantic  ocean,  to  be  carried  out  in  the  woods 
of  the  new  world.  This  practical  rise  of  an  entirely  new  form  of  government,— after 
the  pattern  of  the  Calvinistic  or  rather  biblical  constitution  of  the  church— the  world 
owes  as  much  to  the  English  zealots,  who  sought  religious  and  ecclesiastical  unity  in 
a  ritualistic  liturgy,  as  to  these  English  and  Caledonian  dissenters,  who  cut  loose 
from  the  anomalies  of  a  state-church. 

Huguenots  and  Culdean  Presbyterians  had  taken  refuge  upon  the  Blue  Mountains  of 
North  Carolina.  When  they  met  to  organise  themselves  into  a  body  politic,  they  called  their 
home  Mecklenburg  in  honor  of  the  wife  of  George  III.  After  the  battle  of  Lexington  they  were 
foremost  in  raising  their  voice  in  favor  of  independence  from  the  British  crown. 

This  was  the  definite  anddecidedmotif  of  thecounterbass  intoned  by  the  Mecklenburgian 
Americans,  in  harmony  with  which  the  melody  of  jbhe  Declaration  of  Independence  was  com- 
posed soon  after :  "We  hereby  declare.  .  .  All  laws  and  commissions  confirmed  and  derived  from 
the  authority  of  the  king  or  parliament  are  annulled  and  vacated;  all  commissions,  civil  and 
military,  heretofore  granted  by  the  crown  to  be  exercised  in  the  colonies,  are  void.  .  .  As  all 
former  laws  are  now  suspended  and  the  congress  has  not  yet  provided  others,  we  judge  it 
necessary  for  the  better  preservation  of  good  order,  to  form  certain  rules  and  regulations  for 
the  government  of  this  country,  until  laws  shall  be  provided  for  us  by  the  congress". 

This  declaration  once  put  down  in  writing  by  Anglo-Saxons,  "Orangemen"  and 
French  refuges,  the  thought  of  humanism  was  practically  demonstrated  to  its  full 
extent  in  the  grand  event  of  1776— on  the  4th  of  July. 

The  thought  of  humanity,  then,  is  finally  understood  and  takes  the  shape  of  a 
documentary  instrument  unequaled  in  the  history  of  modern  culture,  of  Christian 
civilisation,  notwithstanding  the  erroneous  deductions  eventually  drawn  from  it. 
Socially  North  America— with  the  exception,  of  course,  of  Roman  Mexico,  which  is 
scarcely  to  be  counted  in  as  yet— is  the  offspring  of  England;  but  in  such  a  manner 
that  the  mass  of  immigrants,  incessantly  flowing  in  from  the  "old  country",  is 
reduced  to  its  elementary  radicals,  and  is  purged  thereby  of  such  old  dross  as,  for 
instance,  the  primal  ingredients  of  Norman  feudalism,  and  of  such  repulsive  residue 
as  the  refuse  of  Romanised  nations  brings  along;  whilst  the  Saxon  traits  are  kept 
up  and  fostered,  because  of  their  principles  of  selfhood  and  honesty,  and  their  senti- 
ments of  sympathy  and  fidelity.  Springing  up  from  forests  and  prairies  under  the 
canopy  of  the  blue  sky  and  the  stars,  state  after  state  augments  the  power  of  the 
Union,  which  is  built  up  like  the  primitive  log-cabin,  rough  and  ready,  with  a  view 
to  rapid  improvement. 


n  G.  Ch.  VI.  §  175.  A  FBEE  CHUBCH  IN  A  FREE  STATE.  32 J 

David  Crockett  roams  about  in  wildernesses  so  solitary,  that  herds  of  deer  stare   in  illustration  of  North 
amazement  at  the  strange  intruder,  when  one  of  their  number  is  shot  and  drops  down  in  their  American  pioneer-life, 
midst.    From  the  scenes  of  the  huntingr  grounds,  from  adventures  with  trappers  and  miners,   national  character. 
with  the  bear  and  the  buffalo,  he  comes  to  take  his  seat  in  congress.    In  the  circus  and  at  the  Career  of  Datid  Crockett. 
presidential  banquet  he  is  always  the  same,  "half  horse,  half  alligator".    As  a  matter  of  course 
he  dies  in  his  boots,  a  favorite  of  the  people  and  hero  of  folk-lore. 

Such  is  the  stamp  of  the  American  nation  as  compared  with  others.      In  humble 
stations  of  life,  under  the  pressure  of  the  privations  of  pioneering  the  hearthstone  is 
laid  in  the  log-house;  tender  considerateness  of  mother,  wife  and  sister  becomes  the  Labor  for 
stepping-stone  to  educational  accomplishments,  to  virtue  and  honor,  both  becoming  common  interest» 
corner-stones  of  prosperity  in  a  palace.  Comfort  is  taken  by  storm  and  time  by  the  fore-  liTeT*^^^ 
lock.  Every  muscle  is  strained,  every  force  liberated  and  developed,  utilised  and  im-  equamy!"  *^'^'*^  *"*^ 
proved  upon,  so  as  to  increase  and  save  human  strength  by  subduing  the  powers  dor- 
mant in  nature.  The  most  heterogeneous  nationalities  meet  and  mingle  on  foreign  soil, 
and  are  pressed  into  service  for  mutual  assistance.  The  people  labor  in  the  pursuit  of 
common  interests,  and  gradually  amalgamate  in  the  observance  of  the  emphasised 
habits  and  customs  of  the  country,  until  the  antagonisms  are  either  assimilated  into,  ^J^ny^JJ^*^^ 
or  disappear  from,  the  establishment  of  a  distinctly  characterised  nationality  after  abolished, 
all.    Many  prejudices  must  be  thrown  aside,  many  an  old-fogyish  form  of  convention- 
alism becomes  ridiculous.     For,  in  the  forest,  and  on  the  frontier,  even  in  the 
store  or  office,  ceremonious  circumstantiality  ceases  to  be  admired  and  becomes  cum- 
bersome; whilst  true  urbanity  is  not  at  all  depreciated  and  vulgarity  is  ostracised.  In  * 
a  form  of  liberty  entirely  new  in  history,  we  witness  how  in  a  great  nation,  side  by 
side  with  rude  manners  and  bad  characters,  the  excellencies  of  human  nature  also  Experiment  to  test 

whether  the  Good  or  the 

exist,  and  how  both  grow  to  proportions  which  in  such  close  proximity  would  Bad  is  more  attractive 

'  Off  ^  J  a^jj  gjyg^  jjjg  better 

have  seemed  impossible.    The  world  witnesses  the  successful  experiment  of  testing  satisfaction. 
which  of  the  two,  the  Good  or  the  Bad  has  the  more  attractive  force,  or  gives  the  best 
satisfaction,  and  gains  the  most  popularity.  * 

§  175.    We  must  return  to  the  Rhine  and  its  vicinity,  where  the  thoughts  were  ^^^^^^  ^^^  ^  ^^ 
ushered  into  the  world  which  rendered  the  wild  West  capable  to  respond  to  the  de-  European  precedents, 

■*■  ■^  conditioning  the  success 

mands  of  modern  culture,  and  even  to  carry  out  the  principles  of  Christian  civilisa-  «f  t»»'«  experiment. 
tion.    For,  said  pope  ^neas  Silvius,  "nowhere  among  the  nations  is  found  so  much  Pope  jEneas  siivius  on 
freedom  as  in  the  German  cities,  in  comparison  to  which  the  populace  of  the  Italian    ^^'^'"^  ^^^  °Tm.  ui. 
republics  are  mere  serfs."    Yet  Germany  had  grown  to  be  just  as  servile  in  the  mean 
time.    In  consequence  of  the  Reformation  the  power  of  princes  had  been  largely  en- 
hanced.   This  result  may  be  deplored,  but  since  the  German  Reformation  did  slight 
the  opportunity  to  create  an  ecclesiastical  selfgovernment  independent  of  the  state,  Ref^omiati^frustrated 
it  was  unavoidable.  Under  the  denominational  and  monarchical  absolutism,  as  facil-  statechurchTsm!* 
itated  by  the  errors  of  theologians  and  cultivated  by  the  Jesuits,  the  political  effects 
of  the  Reformation  were  crushed,  and  the  unfolding  of  the  thought  of  humanity  and 
the  happiness  of  the  subjects  was  repressed.     Keeping  pace  with  the  power  of  mon- 
archical star-chambers,  there  grew  up  the  intolerance  of  Protestant  as  well  as  catholic 
state-churches  with  their  procedures  against  witchcraft,  at  pillories  and  in  chambers 
of  torture.    In  the  Thirty  Years  War,  necessary  for  the  preservation  of  the  humanistic  Thirty  years  war 

,  necessary  to  preserve 

attainments  and  of  religious  freedom,  these  principles  disappeared  almost  entirely  J^Sm '""^^*'"*''"^ 

under  the   selfish  polity  of   conquest,  and  under  disregard  for  nationalities,  as 

practiced  in  the  cabinets  of  both  religious  parties.      The  contest  of  intrigues  ended  ended'wVout'fr^ 

"without  an  ideal,"  as  Hegel  designates  the  exhausted  condition  of  Europe  in  the 

middle  of  the  seventeenth  century. 

European  culture  appeared  as  if  doomed  to  extinction;  it  was  bare  of  an  ideal  since 
Germany,  in  addition  to  its  impoverishment  from  being  always  the   battlefield  of   the  Euro-  Europe  exhausted. 
peans,  had  become  isolated  from  the  traffic  of  the  world.    Venetian  commerce  had  founded 
and  nourished  the  prosperity  of  the  German  cities.    Now,   with  the  oceans  thrown  open,  the 
Venetian  ships  like  those  of  the  other  Komanic  powers  rotted  upon  stagnant  canals.     Ger- 
many was  switched  off  from  international    intercourse,    and  the   great  minsters  dotting 
the  routes  of  former  munificence  remained  unfinished.      Many  other  circumstances  con- 
curred to  subject  the  empire  to  a  deadening  stagnation,  and  the  nation,  lacking  the  econom-  Germany,  always  the 
ical  stimulus  and  hence  growing  indolent  as  to  progress,  entirely  forgot  to  improve  and  com-   impoverished  also  by  the 
plete  its  political  and  ecclesiastical  arrangements.    Previous  beginnings,   so  full  of  promise  decline  of  Venice. 
of  a  glorious  future,  were  abandoned  under  the  general  discouragement,  and  public  life  crept 
along  as  well  as  the  policy  of  expediency  allowed,   whilst  potentates  great  and  small  made 
themselves  comfortable  after  the  pattern  of  Versailles— and  the  wise  heads  wrote  books. 


Germany 
paralysed 


except  in  mental 
activity. 


Germanic  nations 
pursue  their  task  with 
practical  energy— 
extensively. 


The  Germans  write, 
argue,  dream,  l)uild 
theories,  in  pursuance  of 
their  task— intensively. 


Germany  enjoyed  the 
understanding  of  tlie 
illustrious  idea  of 
humanism. 

Movement  of  liberating 
the  "third  estate,'' 

reopened  by  Jesuitism 
in  a  negative  manner. 

State  taught  to  be  a 
mere  human  institution. 

Power  of  princess 
undermined. 

Laynez  in  Council  of 
Trent. 

Part  taken  by 
the  German 
world-theories 
in  neutralisingr 
political 
economies  of 
Jesuitism. 

Cause  of  liberation 
taken  up  positively. 
Divine  rights  of 
humanity  vested  in  civil 
representative 
government. 
Hoppes,  Gbotius.       §168. 
ssckenoorff.  pufehdobf. 

Pni»ll  practical 
beginnings  by  the 
Purit  ins  of  Rhode 
Island, 

Why  England 
escaped  the 
destructive 
effects  of  the 
French 
Revolution. 

Lbckv. 

§  176,  177. 

Wesleyan 
Revivalism. 

ZlNZEKDORF. 


Piety  of  the 
Moravians, 
furnish  the 
first  modern 
missionaries. 
§  130, 135,  138,  139, 
156,  169. 

Genuine 
religiousness 
alone  assures 
national  freedom 
and  prosperity. 
§  28,  34,  44,  50,  55, 
71,86,126,131,132, 
137,  139,  156. 

Justus  Mo-.er's  fidelity 
t«  old  (ierinan  principles 
of  jurisprudence  in 
refutation  of  the 
" vicar  of  Savoy." 

Rousseau. 


GERMANY'S  RECUPERATION.     ENGLISH  REVIVALS.  U  G.  CH.  VI.  §  175. 

Germany  had  been  able  to  break  the  fetters  of  a  Roman  world-monarchy,  and  to 
deliver  the  thought  of  universal  humanism  from  its  Roman  bondage.  But  Germany 
proved  unable  to  carry  out,  by  practical  and  energetic  measures,  the  great  thoughts, 
which  had  been  set  free  through  its  religious  reform.  Whilst  the  other  Germanic 
nations  busied  themselves  with  naval  exploits,  and  as  fruits  of  their  daring  enter- 
prises earned  a  large  harvest  of  ideas  and  means,  Germany  had  to  commence  anew 
with  colonising  and  repopulating  its  own  soil,  and  was  compelled  to  stay  at  home. 
The  circulation  of  its  vital  sap  went  on  as  in  sleep.  For  the  time  being  Germany 
consoled  and  contented  itself  with  having  its  intentions  and  principles  stored  up  in 
books  and  piled  away  in  libraries— until  tlie  necessary  awakening  to  its  task  in  the 
world  took  place  after  a  long  and  phlegmatic  doze.  Germany  continued  to  argue 
upon  the  things  of  which  it  had  full  possession,  about  its  cognition  of  the  value  and 
dignity  of  man,  about  the  evangelical  freedom  of  a  Christian,  about  the  state  of  spir- 
itual childhood  in  the  relation  between  God  and  man,  etc.  etc.  Germany  enjoyed  the 
understanding  of  the  true  and  illustrious  idea  of  humanism;  but  its  realisation  it  had 
to  leave  to  other  people. 

That  great  movement  of  liberating  the  "third  estate"— beginning  with  Wycliff 
in  England,  having  been  taken  up  by  the  Taborites  of  Bohemia,  and  in  the  cause 
of  which  the  Bundschuh-peasants  had  rung  the  alarm— had  come  to  a  dead  stop. 

The  Jesuits  saw  fit  to  take  up  the  popular  cause  to  the  advantage  of  their 
schemes.  When  they  declared  the  state  as  of  mere  human  origin,  they  had  taken 
every  precaution  in  advance,  that  matters  of  public  interest  were  formulated  according 
to  their  doctrine  of  the  contrat  sociale.  Thus  Jesuitism  managed  to  get  control  over 
the  course  of  events  to  the  extent  of  dethroning  any  prince  opposing  this  contract, 
the  "head  of  the  church"  excepted.  Such  were  the  principles  expressed  by  Laynez  in 
the  council  of  Trent,  whose  acceptance  the  protestants  scorned,  and  which  the  Roman 
church  never  retracted. 

SeckendorfP  wrote  "the  state  of  the  Christians"  in  defiance  of  Jesuitical  tenets;  and 
PufendorfP,  returning  from  Copenhagen  and  setting  up  natural  law  upon  the  principles  of 
Grotius  and  Hobbes— still  postulates  duties  to  God  in  the  first  place,  from  which  he  deduces 
those  to  the  ego  and  to  f  ellowmen. 

Aside  from  those  theoretical  works  scarcely  any  practical  activity  on  the  score  of 
social  development  is  perceptible.  The  prerequisite  for  the  practical  efiicacy  of  the 
Christian  thought  would  have  been  a  reorganisation  of  political  economy,  such,  for 
instance,  as  the  Puritans  had  achieved  in  Rhode  Island— but  which  in  Europe  under 
the  sway  of  the  Bourbons  and  Habsburgers  seemed  an  impossibility.  The  occasion  for 
this  reorganisation  was  swiftly  approaching,  nevertheless.  A  storm  was  brewing  in 
the  West. 

Lecky  in  his  "History  of  England  in  the  18th  century"  has  shown  why  this 
country  escaped  the  destructive  effects  of  the  French  revolution.  Nothing  but  the 
revival  of  evangelical  Christianity  saved  Great  Britain  from  the  contagion;  for 
nothing  less  than  personal  religiousness  and  consecration  to  a  life  in  obedience  to  the 
gospel  enables  people  to  comprehend  the  thought  of  humanism  in  its  full  and  true 
sense.  This  was  what  Wesley  preached,  who  had  gone  to  Saxony  in  order  to  study 
the  piety  of  the  Moravians,  and  to  ask  Count  Zinzendorf  for  advice.  It  was  the 
preaching  of  the  Wesleys  and  the  Wliitefields  which  generated  that  intense  conscious- 
ness of  personal  responsibility  and  cooperation  which  alone  is  the  preventive  against 
the  explosion  of  natural  forces  in  riotous  excesses.  The  world-theory  implied  in  such 
sermonising,  as  based  upon  the  genuine  and  restored  God-consciousness,  and  as  com- 
bined with  the  dual  bearings  of  the  thought  of  humanity:  this  alone  makes  people 
firmly  adhere  to  true  freedom,  and  assures  a  happy  advance  of  civilisation  and  the 
prosperity  of  a  nation. 

When  the  great  Romanic  revolution  was  in  its  state  of  incipiency  the  old  Ger- 
manic conception  of  liberty  revived,  as  if  the  salubrious  breeze  from  the  western 
woods  and  prairies  reminded  the  Germanic  mind  of  the  days  of  its  youth.  The 
undaunted  fidelity  of  Justus  Moser  alluded  to,  was  patriotic  enough  to  protest  against 
the  generalisation  of  laws  and  against  the  reduction  of  one's  social  standing  to  the 
common  level  of  vulgarity. 


II  G.    CH.  Vn.  §  176.     HISTORY  BECOMES  UNIVERSAL.     SOCIOLOGY  ENTERS  A  WHIRLPOOL.  323 

He   wrote  against  the  "tyrannical  fashion  of  composing  codes   of  general  laws",  be-  K%riv.  Mos^ 
cause  they   "estrange  us  from  the  nature  of  things  which  in  its  adaptedness  for  unfolding  tendency,  to  generalise 
individuality  demonstrates  its  wealth".    Addressing  the  "Vicar  of  Savoy,  in  care  of  Monsieur  JndivWu'ri^c'LOT 
Rousseau",  he  showed  how  dangerous  the  inclination  to  leveling  legislation  must  of  neces- 
sity become  to  freedom  in  general.    Equally  alarmed  by  the  dream  of  a  general  form  of  leg-  Moser,  a  statesman, 
islation  and  jurisdiction  was  the  pious  and  strict  Karl  von  Moser.    "Enwrapping  a  man  in  emotion 
furs  from  head  to  heels  in  the  month  of  May  may  be  the  proper  thing  for  St.  Petersburg,  ^^^^  ^^"^^^.^^^^^"^^ 
whilst  in  Naples  such  a  dress  would  be  unendurable".    In  Moser  the  feeling  of  that  which  is  wisdom, 
humane  to  perfection,  namely  the  consciousness  of  being  a  child  of  God,  was  active  in  the 

form  of  practical  wisdom. 

GOO 

The  world  stands  wide  open  in  the  East  and  the  West,  prepared  to  receive  the  Retrospect: 
impartation  of  higlier  principles,  awaiting  new  methods  of  cultivation.    For  the  first  y^r  the  «rst  time  is*he 
time  the  surface  of  the  earth  in  its  entirety  becomes  historic  ground.    The  expansive  receiveTS/rTL^e!** 
battle  field  is  made  a  field  of  labor,  and  is  made  accessible  by  the  amazingly  rapid  «j^'j»^^^^"«  p^ncipies  <rt 
development  of  the  means  of  trafläc.      Never  before  were  the  remotest  corners  of 
the  world  explored  with  more  zeal  than  that  manifest  since  the  beginning  of  our  own 
century.    We  may  say  that  all  preceding  history  in  general,  of  which  we  have  so  far 
taken  the  philosophical  retrospect,  had  simply  been  the  preparation  for  the  new  sera  Srtions."*  cosmopoutaa 
of  cosmopolitan  and  international  relations  of  humanity,  a  history  of  preludes  in 
their  several  departments.    History  proper,  that  is,  the  symphony  of  human  affairs  in  ^  .^  ^^^  ^^^^ 
concert,  the  description  of  the  fugue-wise  advances  of  humanity  as  a  whole  in  its  begins**^  ^''**''^  ^'"^ 
reciprocal  interactions  begins  only  now.    All  prior  human  activity  resembles  but  a 
school  where  the  lessons  are  inculcated  in  the  class-room  and  the  exercises  for  home 
work  are  prescribed;  whereas  now  the  common  result  of  instruction  is  exhibited  at 
the  commencement  exercises;  that  is  to  say,  history  is  expected  to  demonstrate  its 
education  of  humanity  in  the  practical  cooperation  of  the  entire  race.    The  familiar  oceans  bearing  messacM 
conversation  of  nations  in  narrow  bounds  must  give  way  to  international  adjustment 
on  a  large  scope,  where  the  fates  of  widely  separated  nations  and  heterogeneous  ele-  aiso  from  spheres  abov« 
ments  bear  upon  each  other.    The  pursuits  of  life,  formerly  followed  upon  interior  ^  ^^^"^^  *^'"°*'^- 
waters,  are  now  going  to  be  carried  on  upon  the  oceans.    They  are  rendered  places  of 
exchange  for  the  relative  or  secondary  goods,  and  are  virtually  the  message-bearers 
between  the  staple-markets  of  the  world— the  bearers  of  messages,  too,  from  spheres 
above  to  spheres  abroad. 

As  many  rivers  send  the  waters  of  the  continents  into  the  great  seas,  so  do 
the  stories  of  the  individual  nations  gradually  run  together  into    one  universal  humanism 
history  of  mankind.    This  trend  of  history  has  become  ever  more  conspicuous  since  cardkmf  ^  *^  *^* 
the  oceans  have  been  girded  and  the  earth  is  circumnavigated.    In  concurrence  with  principle  of 
these  events  the  thought  of  universal  humanism  and  the  common  rights  of  men  were  ^^^^  ^^^  *°"* 
ever  more  elucidated— until  they  were  at  last  acknowledged  as  being  the  cardinal 
principle  of  civilisation.    In  the  face  of  this  truth  it  is  the  more  grievous  to  observe 
from  the  manner  in  which  this  cognition  is  distracted  and  caricatured,  wherever  it 
approaches  practical  realisation— how  poorly  mankind  will  stand  the  test  of  being 
humane. 

CH.  vn.    THE  COGNITION  OF  HUMANITY  IN  ITS  DISTORTIONS. 

§  176.    Historic  development  has  arrived  at  that  season  in  which  the  fruits  ripen,  Grand  prospects  in  view 
at  that  age  of  maturity  in  which  the  features  grow  sharper  and  display  the  quality  of  present ^de™pm"ents. 
the  inner  character.    Recent  events,  which  reveal  the  maxims  underlying  modern  ah  inner  dispositions  oc 
thinking,  and  in  which  modern  culture  culminates,  are  very  descriptive  of  all  the  aSsuSrshaS^in  the 
inner  dispositions  which    humanity  will  follow   in  its  pursuits   as  its   history  """"TÄ,  n-io,  in,  119, 
approaches  the  next  summit.  These  events,  furthermore,  illustrate  the  mode  in  which  ^^^'  ^^' 

history  applies  its  means. 

Europe  and  America  pose  upon  an  acme  of  civilisation  from  which  the  prospect- 
ive view  of  a  transition  into  the  realm  of  true  freedom  and  ethical  progress  takes  in  The  abyss  yawning  in 
the  full  range  of  the  ethnical  horizon;  but  from  which  we  also  look  down  into  an  simmT'"'"'*^ *"*''* 
abyss  yawning  close  by,  into  which  the  whole  of  modern  culture  is  under  dread  of 
being  thrown.  Vigilance  and  circumspection  may  yet  avert  perils  already  casting  their  Sapse%h*reaLfing* 
shadows  ahead.  Hence  it  is  necessary  to  look  beneath  the  surface  of  civilisation,  and  FrS*revoiSn?* 
back  upon  the  starting  points  of  historical  relapses,  in  order  to  understand  the  wild 


324 


■wWch  In  comparison 
with  the  American  is  not 
even  to  be  considered  as 
its  bad  imitation. 


R«tro6p«ct  in  order  to 
discover  the  causes  of 
retrogression 
underneath  the  surface 
of  civilisation. 


Evils  as  measures  of 
preservation ; 

ft  58,  61,  74,  77. 


No  people  entirely 
deficient  of  culture 

§  50,  209. 


fls  stimuli  to  individual 
exertion  in  developing 
various  talents. 


Salutary  utilisation  of 
evils  under  providential 
guidance  to  keep  man 
susceptible  for 
something  better ; 


by  Prevenient  Grace. 

§  120. 


What  problems  appear 
to  be  solved  under  this 
aspect,  rendering 
further  inquiry  needless. 


Cherishing  traits  of  the 
excellency  of  human 
nature,  even  in  people 
with  deranged 
God-consciousness. 


INDESTRUCTIBLE  KEMNANTS  OF  GOD-CONSCIOUSNESS.  11  G.  Ch.  VII.  §  176. 

excitement  of  the  French  upheavals  and  its  still  vibrating  effects,  which  to  all 
appearances  are  going  to  cause  a  repetition  on  so  large  a  scope  as  to  render  the 
eruptions,  v^hich  threw  up  a  Napoleon,  a  mere  local  affair.  With  the  same  reference 
to  the  American  revolution  (by  which  radicalism  has  tried  to  justify  the  French,  tho 
no  such  insurrection  against  the  laws  of  history  can  take  subterfuge  under  the  Amer- 
ican "Declaration  of  Independence")  a  general  upsetting  is  now  planned  by  the  mal- 
contents of  all  nations  and  zealously  agitated. 

At  the  beginning  of  our  disquisition  we  allegorised  the  going  forth  of  the  nations  into  all 
the  world,  their  separation  and  dispersion,  with  the  flowing  of  various  rivers,  from  a 
common  headland  and  a  pure  source.  Considering  the  rapid  increase  of  the  bad  ingredient, 
the  general  dispersion  of  the  human  family  became  evident  as  more  than  a  mere  guess  for  the 
sake  of  explanation. 

Finally  humanity  was  discovered  to  suffer  under  still  worse  conditions.  In  view  of  the 
sad  effects  of  the  first  calamity  we  ascertained  a  state  of  aggravated  dismay,  caused  by  a  still 
worse  catastrophe,  a  wanton  and  sudden  apostasy  even  from  the  mere  natural  principles  of 
human  existence. 

We  found  the  results  of  that  sad  departure  from  unity  in  the  features  scattered  all  over 
the  face  of  the  earth,  those  having  fled  in  small  groups  to  remote  quarters  resembling  isolated 
and  forsaken  heaps  of  debris. 

But  we  observed  also  that  the  evils  following,  especially  the  stunned  condition,  the  fright- 
ful flight,  and  the  irksome  work  of  wresting  a  livelihood  from  obstreperous  nature  were  all 
made  to  serve  as  measures  of  preservation.  For  even  on  the  downward  course  men  are  yet 
guided  in  their  ways  by  the  hand  from  on  high. 

Into  their  deepest  descent  the  nations,  even  those  abandoning  themselves  to  the  ravages 
of  grossest  depravity,  took  along  within  their  innermost  feeling  some  indestructible  remnants 
of  God-consciousness  common  to  all  in  equal  measure. 

Discussing  in  that  connection  the  difference  between  cultured  nations  and  uncultivated 
masses,  we  became  convinced  that  people  without  any  culture  whatever  never  existed,  because 
each  and  every  cluster  of  human  beings  still  has  a  direct  or  indirect  bearing  upon  all  other 
nations,  and  because  not  even  the  most  shapeless  ethnical  rubbish  in  its  apparent  decay  can 
be  considered  bare  of  specifically  human  forms  of  living. 

Providentially  the  fragments  of  lost  humanity  were  so  directed  in  their  ways  as 
that  each  part  was  thrown  upon  its  own  resources  and  its  individual  exertions,  which  were  to 
stimulate  the  development  of  the  various  capabilities  given  and  left  to  man  to  make  the  best 
thereof.  The  distribution  over  the  globe  under  the  various  zones  was  to  serve  the  definite 
purpose  of  filling  the  earth  with  men  who  were  to  cultivate  it,  and  to  develop  thereby  the 
resources  of  their  own  nature;  with  men  who,  under  the  pressure  of  this  laborious  process, 
should  learn  to  seek  the  guiding  hand.  The  susceptibility  for  such  guidance,  and  the  eye  for 
its  recognition,  is  given  in  the  spiritual  constituent  of  man's  being,  to  be  well  taken  care  of 
and  to  be  developed  through  selfculture  into  receptivity  for  increasingly  better  and  higher 
gifts.  We  take  conscience  in  its  immediateness  as  that  prompting  towards  reunion  which  is 
nowhere  entirely  missing  in  the  human  soul.  Corresponding  with  the  promptings  of  con- 
science a  system  of  mediatory  and  vicarious  atonement  was  arranged  for  the  purpose  of 
conferring  blessings  upon  the  nations  under  conditions,  of  course,  but  ever  under  divine 
guidance.  And  this  system,  as  little  to  be  abolished  as  conscience  is  indestructible,  conveyed  the 
intention  at  the  same  time,  to  reveal  the  desire  of  the  Savior  to  come  to  the  rescue;  and  to  call 
forth  the  desire  on  the  part  of  men  to  seek  after  and  find  the  uplifting  hand  again.  This 
guidance  and  these  arrangements  we  subsume  under  the  phrase  of  universal  revelation  or 
Prevenient  Grace. 

But  those  multitudes  which  in  deliberate  defiance  of  this  providence  and  grace  mean  to 
keep  up  a  selfconstituted  unity  by  force  or  strategy,  will  abruptly  be  put  to  confusion  again 
and  again. 

unless  the  development  of  history  is  considered  under  this  aspect,  no  correct  view 
and  no  teleological  appreciation  of  the  life  of  individuals  or  of  nations  can  be  ob- 
tained. But  taking  this  position  we  need  no  longer  Inquire  as  to  the  hulls,  precipi- 
tates, and  residue  of  traditional  cults,  nor  into  the  political  formations  and  deforma- 
tions, social  usages  or  artificial  creations  of  culture  in  which  life's  currents  slug- 
gishly flow  along  as  in  old  channels. 

We  are  relieved  of  analytical  guesses  to  be  made  from  the  heinous  idolatries  and  abject 
subversions  of  the  ideas  of  humanity  in  China  and  Japan,  India  and  ^gypt,  Africa  and 
Australia,  or  in  Germany  or  America.  For,  since  by  virtue  of  certain  spiritual  elements  the 
compound  of  scums  and  dregs  and  settlings  is  cut,  so  that  the  obnoxious  stuffs  may  be  isolated 
and  neutralised,  we  are  enabled  to  reduce  the  distorted  principles  to  their  true  value. 

And  we  are  enabled  to  discriminate— even  in  the  labyrinthian  courses  of  human 
life  and  thought  under  such  inverted  traditions  and  usages  and  abuses— the  warm 
pulsations  of  the  human  heart,  and  the  noble  aspirations  of  human  nature  to  purify 
itself  from  the  effects  of  the  deathly  contagion. 


n  G.  CH.  VII.  g  177.  MODE  OF  RESTORING  THE  "IMAGE".  •  325 

Following  that  line  of  observation  we  find  in  the  virtues  of  the  gentiles  more  than  "glis- 
tening vices".     Be  the  God-consciousness,  together  with  the  world-consciousness  depending  nJt^"stenJng*Wc*e"*' 
upon  it,  ever  so  badly  deranged,  we  still  collect— like  the  bee  collecting  honey  from  wild 
flowers— hopeful  and  cherishing  traits  of  human  nature,  from  play  and  comedy,  from  lyric  involuntary  longings 
poetry  and  from  acquaintance  with  the  domestic  life  of  those  who  dwell  on  the  periphery,    ""^gij^is""';,  53,  77,  gi. 
We  may  find  even  in  the  darkness  of  heathenism  a  noble  sense  of  duty,  of  touching  fidelity  and    ^<  ^8, 101, 120, 135, '157) 
unselfishness;  we  may  there  notice  signs  of  benignity,  acts  of  selfdenial  and  an  admirable  de- 
votion to  public  welfare  which  may  outshine  the  morality  of  the  multitude  of  mere  nominal 
Christians.    A  sense  of  real  beauty  and  aspiration  to  true  art  are  frequently  met  with.  Look-  Influence  of  obscure 
ing  at  the  attempts  at  carving,  sculpturing,  painting,  and  musical  composition ,  in  pottery,  ge^ne°r^."^8yllab"Dlv.  G. 
architecture,  legends,  proverbs  and   songs,  we  ought  to  become  so  interested  in  the  poor  8  117- 

wretched  majority  of  the  human  family  with  its  irreligious  consciousness,  as  to  learn  to 
sympathise  with  it,  because  of  the  intensity  and  tenderness  of  sentiment  thus  revealed.  Above 
all  we  shall  have  to  acknowledge  a  spirit  of  reverence  and  devoutness  towards  the  invisible 
deity,  which  puts  to  shame  even  the  majority,  perhaps,  of  modern  churchmembership. 

If  we  listen  with  sympathy  to  the  scale  of  tones,  from  guileless  merriment  down  to  the 
melancholy  and  doleful  complaint  in  elegies,  we  would  find  hearts  worthy  our  friendship,  Incitement  to  missionary 
hearts  in  search  of  peace  and  consolation.  This  yearning  will  have  to  be  counted  as  valuable 
in  proportion  to  vanquished  selfishness,  and  will  be  adjudged  with  mercy  by  Him  who  hears 
the  cries  of  the  young  ravens.  When  and  by  what  means  this  mercy  will  manifest  itself  to 
nature-bound  people  in  guiding  and  directing  their  preparation  for  the  reception  of  pneu- 
matic influences,  does  not  here  come  in  question.  The  noble  traits  of  the  natural  man  were 
pointed  out  simply  to  remind  us  of  the  fact,  that  even  the  nations  farthest  away  from  the 
divine-humane  center  of  attraction  do  contribute,  in  certain  respects,  to  human  culture,  tho 
that  contribution  may  be  visible  to  such  only  as  stand  very  high  above  selfishness  or  very  near 
the  contributors,in  the  practice  and  cultivation  of  humaneness. 

We  come  to  consider  some  of  the  bearings  of  these  facts,  for  we  live  in  the  age  of 
Missions— altho  the  substance  of  this  matter  remains  to  be  pondered  in  the  closing 
part  of  this  work. 

The  chapter  now  presenting  itself,  that  is,  the  epoch  now  opening,  demands  of  us  that,  in  fnt'e**'rete«on  of  "history 
virtue  of  another  enlightenment  than  that  so  far  discussed,  we  may  be  able  to  form  a  true  depends  upon  our  being 
judgment  as  to  character  and  the  nature  of  events.    Whatever  conclusion  is  arrived  at,  de-  worJdftheorierby  the^ 
pends  upon  the  full  insight  into  the  moral  essence  of  things  and  persons,  and  upon  the  dis-  rule  handed  to  the 
cretionary  ability  to  watch  understandingly  the  historic  undercurrent.  the  middle  of  the  times. 

The  value  of  our  conclusions,  yea,  the  correctness  of  our  whole  interpretation  of 
history,  depend  upon  the  answer  to  the  question  whether  we  are  justified  in  measur- 
ing world-theories  by  that  rule,  which  was  handed  to  the  builders  of  history  in  the 
middle  of  the  times. 

§  177.    The  mode  in  which  Providence  guides  the  movements  of  history  concur-  pians  and  aims  o« 
rent  with  the  lives  of  the  nations  is  enshrouded  in  impenetrable  mystery,  notwith-  reSdl'as^yet^ 
standing  the  plan  and  the  purposes  being  revealed.     The  reason  why  the  ways  and  *^'^°"**^'^  "*  mystery. 
means  for  their  fulfilment  under  divine  overruling  are  veiled  and  incomputable  con- 
sists but  in  the  fact  that  the  freedom  of  mankind  comes  into  play.    The  work  of  re- 
storing the  "image"  as  revealed  by  the  Mediator  in  a  rich  diversity  of  human  beings 
continues  through  the  times  of  the  new  dispensation,  altho  we  can  observe  only  half,  - im^gf- -Through  ^^"^ 
at  its  best,  of  the  fabric  and  the  instrumentalities,  and  of  the  method  of  using  the  condttionÄrfaith- 
material.    The  way  in  which  the  renovation  proceeds,  we  see  in  but  one  direction.       be  mTintafner*  '^  ^ 

The  ideal  of  man  in  his  dignity  as  substantiated  in  the  Mediator,  and  the  problems 
to  be  solved,  and  the  destiny  to  be  realised  by  man,  are  revealed  to  him  in  the  form  of 
gifts   intended   for   the   happiness   of  mankind.     These    gifts  are    entrusted  to  significance  of  the 
Christians  in  their  collective  capacity  for  transmitting  to  humanity  in  histori-  ge"MtanfofSe!°* 
cal  order.    And  they  convey  with  them  the  task  of  redeeming  arrested  life,  i.  e.  g^b^n-aufoaben.   §  lo. 
nature-bound  humanity.    The  administration  of  these  irrevocably  instituted  ordinan- 
ces is  therefore  not  to  be  taken  in  the  sense  of  a  representative  ofläce  apart  from  the 
congregation  militant  and  triumphant.     It  is  to  be  emphasised  rather,  that  the  gifts 
are  to  be  husbanded  by  ministers  and  people  conjointly.      Whenever  the  church  was 
understood  to  consist  of  the  officers  and  theologians,  history  insisted  upon  the  admin- 
istration of  the  above  gifts  by  hierarchy  and  society  alternately  if  not  in  coordinate  EerngÄrtedl'now  in 
unison.    For  in  the  course  of  events  it  occurs  now  and  then  that  the  people,or  society  Se  'world".'  *''*''  ^^ 
in  its  promiscuous  generalness, sever  the  thought  of  humanity  from  its  center  of  co-  ^  "^'  ^^'  "^' 

hesion  where  alone  it  is  safe  from  distortion— and  that  in  an  unjudicious  zeal  for  a 
misunderstood  liberty  the  cause  of  humanism  is  conceived  in  a  vague  and  partial  libeSm^oftTn"'™* 
negative.     In  such  cases  the  ecclesiastical  organisation,  the  church -organism  in  its  Joncfwel^humaiTismin 
contrast  to  the  civil  authorities  and  to  the  "world,"  must  throw  the  weight  of  its  in-  *  '^'"^"^  negative, 
struction  into  the  scale. 


326  THE  THREE  REVOLUTIONS  COMPARED.  11 G.  Ch.  VII.  §  178. 

mu"tthroÄrweight  ^^  ^^  ^appens,  that,  on  the  other  hand,  a  domineering  church— more  or  less 

th JS.*'"*'""''  '''**'  streaked  with  hierarchical  pretensions,  be  they  catholic  or  Protestant— obscures  the 
Or  whenever  hierarchai  P^'^^lous  gift  of  the  humauistic  thought,  aud  abaudous  it  to  the  political  intrigues  of 
'^S^sTontenÄtt!^'  parliamentary  factions  in  order  to  make  them  tools  of  their  rule.  And  in  such  cases 
*^Ä*^toohonheir  *^®  people  at  large,  or  Christian  associations,  rise  to  the  rescue  of  humanism,  and,  on 
is"to  risÄärrM^ueof  *^®  strength  of  "public  suasion"  take  the.  thought  under  protection  and  in  cultivation, 
humanism.  Whenever  either  of  these  cases  comes  to  join  issue,  a  revolution  is  imminent. 

Genesli of  revolnMons  What  was  the  aim  of  the  most  radical  of  great  revolutions?    Chateaubriand  answers: 

8  165  lee^Yes^'lTs'^lTs"  *"^**  found  a  society  without  a  past  and  without  a  future  upon  doubtful  reasons ! "  The  old 
'l79,'2li,'222l  legritimist  has  precisely  stated  the  character  of  this  French  movement.  It  was  a  very  question- 
Rousseau's  efforts  to  able  reason  upon  which  Rousseau  had  built  his  system  of  the  nature  of  the  wants,  and  the 
rescue  humanism  from  a  rightSjOf  man.  What  was  then  the  misnamed  reason  was  but  one  of  the  wild  outgrowths  of  car- 
Scia°'  oiitward  and  j^^j  desire  and  moral  indolence  cut  loose  from  the  idea  of  God  and  from  historical  bonds.  This 
conventionalism.  world-theory  presumptuously  alleges  that  man  by  nature  is  a  sociable  creature,  and  that 

hence  humanism  is  the  creature  of  the  social  instincts.    Upon  the  force,  or  rather  absurdity, 
of  this  argumentation  Rousseau  pleads  the  rights  of  a  commonality  for  which  he  invents  the 
Natural  sociability.  phrase,     "contrat    sociale,"  which  in  principle  had   been    established  much   prior  to  his 

deduction. 

That  humanity,  of  which  "Emile"  is  the  blissful,  because  ignorant,  representative,  is  of 

^to™  E*  *^®,?**^*^      spontaneous  growth,  natural  and  radical  in  the  extreme,  fit  to  be  raised  by,  and  to  associate 

"  Brizard.    with,  the  cave  bear,  and  longing  to  return  to  its  companions  in  order  to  become  exceedingly 

Facchktt.  ajj(£  independently  happy.    '"The  human  race  had  lost  its  rights,  Jean  Jacques  has  found  them 

again,"  was  the  rejoicing  ejaculation  of  Brizard.    In  the  same  strain  Baudrillart  praises  it  as 

the  task  of  his  age  "to  reinstate  humanity  into  the  possession  of  itself  and  its  whole  domain 

and  all  of  its  resources."  Such  was  the  purpose  of  the  revolution,  as  Abbot  Fauchett  puts  it  in 

the  vernacular  of  the  rabble:  "Man  is  born  to  enjoy  the  good  things  of  life.    The  earthly 

domain,  common  property  of  us  all,  has  been  forcibly  appropriated  by  a  few  and  withheld 

from  us." 

Return  to  the  natural  state  was  preached  and— nearly  accomplished.    France  was  suffi- 
ciently qualified  for  the  experiment. 

English  revolution  as  Tho  Eugllsh  Tevolutiott  had  been  of  a  quite  different  character.    Neither  con. 

jwh.*"^  "*'**"  ^^^  trived  at  nor  instigated  by  sophists,  it  was  a  national  movement  of  patriotism  upon 
§  i6o,  166, 168, 175,  m.  ^^^  foasls  of  au  earnest  necessity  and  religious  maturity.  It  did  not  disintegrate 
society;  merely  changing  the  executive  department  of  the  political  system  to  conform 
with  the  reformed  concept  of  humanism,  this  revolution  did  not  break  up  the  social 
fabric.  It  was  not  brought  about  by  Sansculottes  but  by  Cromwell's  army,  the  moral 
strictness  of  which  was  exemplary  and  stands  unchallenged. 

Macaulay  describes  it  thus:  "The  most  zealous  royalists  give  testimony  that  in  their 
Cromwell's  army.  camps  alone  no  cursing  was  to  be  heard,  that  neither  drunkenness  nor  gambling  was  to  be 

seen,  and  that  during  the  rule  of  the  soldiery  the  property  of  the  peaceable  citizen  was  safe, 
and  the  honor  of  women  kept  sacred.  The  excesses  occurring  were  of  a  quaint  nature.  A 
sermon  suspicious  of  pelagianism,or  a  window  exhibiting  the  picture  of  the  Virgin  with  the 
child,  would  cause  such  excitement  in  the  ranks  of  the  Puritans,  that  the  officers  could 
scarcely  by  extreme  measures  control  the  troops."  Such  was  the  revolution  in  England, 
which  the  French  have  no  right  to  claim  as  a  precedent  justifying  their  own. 

German  Reformation  ^^  Germany  the  reformation  had  done  away  with  those  mediaeval  deformities  which 

were  allowed  to  continue  in  Franjse  and  to  oppress  the  nation.  Celibacy,  monastic 
mendicancy,  monkish  slothf  ulness,  etc.,  had  been  gradually  regulated  by  the  state,  and 
ameliorated  if  not  abolished  brevi  manu,  by  the  Protestant  thought.    The  thought  of 
evZuo*n"n™the         liberty  had  been  modified  by  the  religious  conception  of  human  dignity  and  respon- 
French  reVoiution.         sibllity,  whcref oro  the  political  transformation  took  the  normal  course  of  an  evolu- 
tion, under  the  exercise  of  a  little  patience. 
France  protests  against  ^^  Frauco  the  protcst  agalust  the  ecclesiasticism  of  the  feudal  times  had  been 

SSuda^orfgin,"'""'*'"'  procrastluated  and  was  entered  first  by  sophists  and  then  by  Sansculottes.  Human 
through  sophisnib  and     dlgulty  aud  liberty  were  taken  simply  in  their  formal  and  egotistic  aspect,  because 

6an.sculottes  and  .,        /.  ,.  ,,  ,..  .....i  .,,  ,  .^^ 

Kousseau's  children  of  the  lormativc,  the  religious  principle  had  been  exiled  or  suppressed,  as  m  Port  Royal. 
after  Port  Royal,  Heuce  tho  ImpossibiUty  of  a  gradual  reform  when  the  revolution  was  provoked  by 

?Jiigro"uTsicfe*o/  governmental  anomalies  and  unmitigated  malpractices  of  the  royal  dynasty. 

siiTced""''*'''^^'"''  §  ns.    The  remnants  of  mediaeval  views  and  forms  of  life,  especially  the  class- 

RevÄu)^"**^*^'^""''  privileges,  the  immunities  of  the  aristocracy  scoffing  the  change  procured  by  modern 
France  neglected  its       thought,  scofflug  rcasou  Itself ,  gallcd  the  common  people.    France,  unlike  Germany, 
deveSmenT/**  """""^  partlcularly  in  this  respect,  had  missed  its  opportunities,  when  Gerson,  the  great 
ßKÄpoiMy;  chancellor,  and  Peter  d'Ailly  by  far  surpassed  the  narrow  Italian  ideas;  and  again 
when  August,  the  Saxon  elector,  sent  the  Formula  Concordia  to  Francis  I,  and  when 


n  G.  CH.  n.  §  178.  BRUTALITY  AND  ANARCHY.  32? 

Jacob  Beuilin  with  Andreae  upon  the  royal  invitation  appeared  at  court  in  Paris;  and  up"o^overth"ro*w^*"* 
when  Beza  vindicated  the  religious  reform  at  Poissy.    It  was  the  last  chance  for 
France  to  adjust  matters  by  way  of  an  honest  compromise,  when  under  Henry  Quatre 
4000  noblemen  took  the  part  of  the  Huguenots  who  had  enlisted  200  towns  of  surety 
for  tolerance  in  the  cause  of  reform. 

The  Huguenots  were  sincerely  bent  upon  a  normal  evolution  without  any  intent  of  a  polit- 
ical overthrow.  Their  nocturnal  meetings  in  the  crevices  of  the  mountains  and  their  hymns 
of  worship  in  the  silent  solitude  of  wildernesses  were  not  heeded  as  the  warnings,  which 
indeed  they  were  to  serve  to  the  Bourbons  in  foreboding  the  gathering  storms  of  the  revolti-  Anarchy  ensued  from 

^  ..,.,  ,.,11,1  ,  ,.  ^  •         the  suppression  of 

tion.  The  opportunities  having  been  slighted,  and  the  dragonades  working  effects  opposite  religious  reform. 
to  those  intended,  the  sequel  was  inevitable.  For  whenever  that  natural  advance  of  a  nation, 
wrought  by  its  religious  advancement,  comes  to  be  frustrated,  anarchistic  ideas  will  stir  up 
the  dregs  of  public  opinion.  If  the  pulse  of  spiritual  life  in  the  social  organism  beats  slow 
and  sluggish,  it  denotes  religious  and  intellectual  decline.  But  suppressingthe  normal  evolu- 
tion of  true  humanism  results  in  anarchy.  Wherever  human  nature  is  treated  as  a  mere 
natural  force  a  sudden  explosion  is  to  be  expected  at  the  slightest  occasion. 

The  first  symptoms  of  the  morbidity  of  French  society  cropped  out  in  literature.  Before  niorbi*d^y^^Trrnc*e*'in 
it  entered  the  stage  of  shameless  frivolity,  literature  acted  the  role  of  Boethius,  when  he  stood  literature. 
at  the  coffin  of  the  Roman  giant,  figuratively  speaking,  soliciting  sympathy.  comparison  with  the 

"His  attitude  toward  positive  religion,  especially  to  Christianity  is  affecting  that  aristo-  **®  °*  Boethius,  %  65-68, 
cratic  suffisance  which  cautiously  guards  itself  as  much  against  uttering  an  offensive  or 
aggressive  word,  as  against  giving  any  sign  from  which  the  open  enemies  of  religion  might 
draw  the  inference  that  one  was  in  sympathy  with  it.  Thus  he  kept  distant  from  personal 
contact  with  Christianity  in  avoidance  of  compromising  himself."  The  very  same  method  of 
evading  religious  conviction,  or  if  convinced  of  the  truth,  the  same  avoidance  of  decidedly 
avowing  it,  was  the  first  fruit  of  this  fashionable  enlightenment.  People  were  ashamed  to 
incur  the  suspicion  of  being  religious.  Dissembling  «m 

.  .,.  ,.,  1.1.,  aristocratic  indifference 

This  affected  attitude  of  indifference  in  literature,  which  very  much  resembled  silent  to  the  religious  base  of 
contempt,  indeed  signified  the  transition  of  the  spirit  of  the  time  from  the  proud  and  feigned     "'"**^™-  8  6^«  t*^'  '^ 
nonchalance  to  fanaticism  in  the  stage  of  sneer  and  sarcasm.    As  to  sonnets,  and  the  dissipa-  g^.^     ^f  ^^^^^  ^^^^ 
tion  of  belles-lettres  in  general,  causing  the  giggles  which  were  audible  at  night  among  the  sarcasm  between 
model-shorn  shrubbery  and  trimmed  boxtrees  of  Versailles,  decency  demands  of  us  to  observe  f^rticism?° 
silence. 

The  system  of  such  paternal  rule  of  which  the  French  complained,  was  no  worse 
than  that  of  all  the  other  states,  except  that  in  France  the  straight-jacket  of  patron- 
age-government was  laced  somewhat  tighter.    The  tutelage  under  which  the  peoples 
were  kept  by  the  idea  of  the  "legitimacy"  ( sc.  of  hereditary  sovereignties )  extended 
over  the  entire  sphere  of  civil  life,  public  and  private.    The  state-craft  of  the  seven-  Devices  to  conceal  the 
teenth  and  eighteenth  centuries  made  it  its  chief  object  to  conceal  the  political  real-  ^^"'' 
ities  under  the  judicial  views  of  star-chambers  and  under  the  gravity  of  the  periwig; 
and  "legitimacy",— the  fathership  of  the  monarch  over  his  subjects,  the  children  who  "Legitimists". 
where  not  to  question  governmental  measures— was  the  couched  principle  and  secret 
of  the  jurisprudential  wisdom  of  the  cabinets.     And  that  privacy  of  the   cabinets 
was  extended  into  the  privacy  of  husbandry.    Statial  guardianship  minutely  defined 
all  domestic ,  industrial   and  commercial  relations  down  to  the  number  of  windows 
in  each  house,  to  matters  of  dress,  and  the  courses  at  table. 

The  dissatisfaction  with  king  and  cabinet  was  only  equaled  by  that  with  the  privacy  of  cabinets. 
oppression  couched  in  their  pretense  of  paternal  care.    The  fifth  part  of  French  soil 
was  in  possession  of  the  mort-main,  i.  e.  the  dead  hand  of  the  church,  which  not  only 
received  but  also  held  fast  and  did  not  give,  that  is,  paid  no  taxes.  in"the ^  m'ort-main'. 

The  ecclesiastical  tenures  consisted  of  the  most  fertile  lands  throughout  the  kingdoms, 
the  annuities  derived  from  rents  amounted  to  hundreds  of  millions,  besides  the  123  millions 
which  the  prelates,  abbots,  chapters  and  cloisters  derived  annually  from  the  tithes.  The 
number  of  Preraonstratensian  monks  was  not  more  than  399,  but  their  income  from  these 
sources  amounted  to  more  than  a  million.  Of  the  Benedictines  of  St.  Maur  there  were  1672; 
who  drew  rents  up  to  eight  millions.  Yet  the  clergy  in  general— we  are  pleased  to  state  it,  by 
the  way— was  not  as  worldly  as  might  be  expected ;  of  the  bishops  only  four  submitted  to  the 
oath  of  allegiance  to  the  constitution  drawn  up  by  radicalism.  Notwithstanding  the  some- 
what improved  behavior  of  the  priesthood  it  was  impossible  to  uphold  such  a  state  of  affairs.  Necker's  financial 
Necker  demonstrated  that  with  the  antiquated  system  of  taxation  he  could  do  absolutely  *^'®'=""'*^- 
nothing  to  restore  the  financial  health  of  the  realm. 

The  trouble  with  that  old  system  of  finances  and  crown-revenues  was  that  the 
"estates" ,  the  people  of  rank  represented  in  the  two  divisions  of  the  legislature,  SlmpTfromTalation, 
enjoyed  among  other  immunities  the  exemption  from  taxation.    Calonne  demanded 


328 


not  yielding  readily 
enougli  were 
extinguished. 


I  afayette's  advice  io 

Iheklng,  todon  the 

Phr\giuu 

"cap  of  liberty". 

Abuses  to  be  abolished. 


The  test,  whether  the 
demands  of  human 
rights 


■were  justified,  and 
whether  the  enthusiasts 
beyond  their 
phraseology  possessed 
the  ability  to  carry  out 
the  reform, 

lay  in  the  work  of 
reconstruction. 

Masquerade  of  Clootz' 
representatives  of 
humanity. 

Realisation  of  the 
parole  "liberty, 
equality,  fraternity" 
impossible,  since  the 
humanity  required  for  a 
basis  of  reconstruction 
was  not  at  hand. 

Measure  of  guilt  of 
participants  in  the  rage 
of  this  revolution. 

S  211,  212. 

Reaction  under 
Napoleon,  with  his 
contempt  towards  that 
humanity  which 
discards  theism. 

Parallel  between  Karl 
the  Great,  Augustus,  and 
Napoleon . 
§54,56,59,  Cyrus. 

122,  August,— 

Plato. 
125,  126,  Constantine, 
Justin. 
137,  Karl. 
139,  Ludwig. 
U2,  Otto. 
145,  Frederick  II. 
Dalai  Lama. 
165,  Maximilian. 
148-150,  Gregor. 
191,  Czar. 

See  §  80. 
Pop«  to  prop 

Napoleon's 
schemes.        §  191. 

Deification  In  the 
catechism. 

Talma  his  Instructor  in 
attitude  of  emperor- 
god. 

Program  of 

universal  theocracy  was 
ready  for  use  previous 
to  the  Russian  campaign. 


"LIBERTY,  EQUALITY,  FRATERNITY"  ON  A  LOW  LEVEL.— NAPOLEON.  II  G.  Ch.  VII.  §  178, 

that  they  should  vote  for  a  ground-tax  upon  their  real  estate.  But  since  those  wielding 
the  money  power,  in  their  adherence  to  the  old  customs,  would  not  yield  an  iota  of 
their  prerogatives,  and  since  the  aristocracy  hesitated  to  grant  the  advantages  of  the 
modern  ideas,  advanced  by  themselves,  to  the  oppressed  classes,  because  the  remnants 
of  feudalism  facilitated  their  policy  of  obstruction,  France  was  compelled  to  fight 
them  down. 

The  men  of  1789:  those  belongingr  to  the  assembly  constituent,  the  parties  of  the  legiti- 
mists and  of  the  convent,  the  Girondists  and  the  members  of  the  mountain— they  all  blasted 
away  in  quick  succession  one  firm  layer  after  another  of  petrified  burdens  and  class- 
prerogatives,  each  party  eager  to  advance  over  the  scattered  rival  factions.  The  conservative 
champions  of  mediaevalism  finally  yielded  to  force;  but  it  was  now  too  late  to  waive  a  priv- 
ilege here  and  there.  Not  yielding  readily  enough,  they  were  doomed  to  annihilation.  For 
on  the  score  of  rule  the  tables  were  suddenly  and  completely  turned.  To  join  in  the  cry  of  the 
new  parole  "liberty,  equality,  fraternity"  would  avail  the  aristocrats  nothing.  To  don  the 
tricolor,  and  to  show  himself  to  the  patriots  with  the  Phrygian  cap  of  liberty"  upon  his  head, 
in  obedience  to  Lafayette's  advice,  could  save  the  "legitimate"  king  no  more. 

Neither  could  the  bawling  on  the  streets,  and  the  allegorical  pageants,  and  the 
making  of  constitutions  avail  anything.  It  was  the  abolition  of  privileges,  it  was 
the  establishment  of  equal  rights  and  responsibilities  for  persons  of  all  ranks,  it  was 
the  deliverance  of  labor  from  serfdom,  it  was  freedom  of  thought  and  speech,  of  asso- 
ciation and  of  religious  worship,  which  were  to  be  achieved.  It  was  the  work  of 
reconstruction  by  which  the  proclamation  of  human  rights  had  to  prove  that  it  was 
more  than  phraseology.  And  to  be  sure,  sincere  in  its  persistency  to  obtain  human 
rights,  the  revolution  did  not  stop  at  vociferous  demands. 

The  exasperated  masses  were  in  dead  earnest,  which  earnestness  substantiated  itself  in 
heaps  of  human  flesh  and  streams  of  human  blood.  It  need  not  be  repeated  that  the  estab- 
lishment of  humaneness  by  such  methods  was  an  undertaking  demonstratingabsurdity  itself, 
because  the  humanity  requisite  for  the  reconstruction  did  not  exist.  Its  proclamation  turned 
into  something  like  the  silly  masquerade  of  Clootz,  the  harlequin  of  the  revolution. 

It  seems  incomprehensible  that  the  people  in  the  act  of  realising  their  inborn 
rights  did  not  shrink  back  horror-struck  from  the  ruination  caused  by  demolishing 
all  historical  rights. 

The  strange  adventure  of  destroying  reasonability,  in  order  to  build  the  right  of 
reason  upon  the  rubbish  of  hear-say  radicalism,  can  only  be  comprehended  as  the 
result  of  a  pestiferous  condition  of  society  in  general. 

On  account  of  this  decay  the  madness  of  the  participants,  who  were  seized  and  carried 
away  by  the  raging  torrent,  or  scared  away  under  the  reign  of  terror,  may  find  excuse;  tho 
the  instigators  deserve  abhorrence  rather  than  praise.  Of  these  maladies  of  the  times,  how- 
ever, we  shall  speak  in  the  third  book. 

With  Napoleon  the  sobering  up,  the  reaction  set  in,  though  his  own  career  denoted 
simply  thai  critical  stage  of  the  sickness,  when  the  febrile  symptoms  signify,  that 
health  sinks  below  the  strength  of  resistance.  This  phenomenal  figure  represents,  in 
a  greater  measure  even  than  Karl  the  Great,  the  unification  of  Romano-Byzantine 
and  German  features  of  polity.  The  empire  of  the  Carolingians  leaned  upon  the 
powerful  influence  of  popery,  just  then  beginning  to  take  the  lead  in  politics.  But 
Napoleon  stood  free  upon  the  charred  field  of  burnt-out  ideas,  opposite  an  exhausted 
popery,  which,  however,  he  deemed  still  useful  enough  as  a  prop  to  his  personal  aims 
at  universal  Cesaro-papism.  For  he  intended  nothing  less  than  changing  the  curia 
together  with  the  papal  office  into  a  charge  d'affairs  at  his  court. 

The  emperor  had  caused  a  catechism  to  be  composed  for  the  schools  of  the  nation,  in 
which  religio-political  text-book  he  commanded  that  a  position  be  ascribed  to  him,  which 
should  be  nothing  short  of  deification  but  sacramental  sanction.  The  emperor-god  seemed  to 
appear  complete  upon  the  column  of  Yendome ;  all  that  Napoleon  thought  necessary  for  his 
proper  appearance  in  this  attitude  were  the  lessons  he  took  from  Talma,  the  comedian. 

His  program  for  the  performance  was  ready.  In  the  year  1813  there  was  to  be  held  an 
oecumenical  council.  As  the  first  thing  on  the  program  it  was  ordered  that  the  pope  presid- 
ing was  to  resign  his  worldly  sovereignty.  "From  this  moment  on  I  would  have  made  him 
the  idol  of  the  people,  so  that  he  should  have  neither  missed  his  possessions,  nor  felt  his  degra- 
dation. I  would  have  held  my  ecclesiastical  convocations  like  my  legislative  sessions.  My 
councils  would  have  represented  universal  Christendom,  of  which  the  popes  would  have  been 
the  presidents,  which  I  would  have  opened  and  closed,  and  the  decrees  of  which  I  would  have 
sanctioned  and  published,  just  as  Constantine  and  Earl  the  Great  used  to  manage  ecclesiastical 
affairs." 


n  G.  Ch.  vn.  §  179.         god's  method  of  discipline  and  deliyeeance.  329: 

The  meaning:  of  this  reverie— which  according  to  our  principle  of  interpretation  and  Meditation  on  the 
method  of  comparison,  was  virtually  nothing  but  a  copy  of  Asiatico- Byzantine  arrangements  ^de^mIistr?  d^'bokald. 
—would  have  been  the  fitting  up  of  the  pedestal  upon  which  the  emperor-god  was  to  be 
enthroned ;  whilst  of  the  freedom  which  Christianity  vouchsafed  to  the  nations  when  it  sepa- 
rated the  worldly  kingdom  from  the  spiritual,  humanity  would  have  been  again  forcibly  and 
yet  surreptitiously  deprived. 

Looking  back  upon  the  terrorism  of  the  revolution,  such  thinkers  as  De  Maistre  infemai  powers 
and  De  Bonald  recognise  in  this  characteristic  and  instructive  period  a  divine  retri-  wnberation."''*"* *** 
bution  and  the  prelude  to  the  last  judgment,  a  "shaking  up  of  all  human  powers.** 
In  the  vicissitudes  of  the  revolution  these  sages  conceived  the  rage  of  infernal  pow- 
ers let  loose  by  the  hand  of  the  Most  High  as  in  other  judgments,  of  which  the  one 
just  experienced  was  but  the  continuation.  Each  divine  visitation  makes  the  infer- 
nal rage  subservient  to  salvation.  For  it  is  to  be  remembered  that  the  catena  of 
chastisements  and  deliverances  is  interlinked  with  the  first  insurrection  against  the  f *"^*  ?'  insurrections 

o  from  the  banks  on  the 

divine  rule  enacted  on  the  banks  of  the  Euphrates ;  and  that  the  antagonism  contin-  Euphrates  to  those  of  th« 

ues  through  all  mundane  seras  to  the  end  of  the  times.    In  the  scenes  witnessed  upon 

quays  along  the  Seine,  the  divine  hand  of  discipline  and  deliverance  was  recognised 

as  opening  the  ulcer  on  the  social  body,  cutting  deep  and  sharp  into  the  putrid  flesh  fr^L^exSment. 

emancipated,  in  order  to  cure  the  sore  and  save  the  organism.  witSaod^"'"'""'"' 

§  179.    Our  task  of  interpreting  national  paroxysms  compels  us  to  return  to  the  humSm  wd  u 
axiom  from  which  we  set  out.    What  significance  of  the  great  revolution,  as  taken  in  S^'^^^  to*^  "^"^ 
connection  with  other  erratic  and  fitful  experiments  to  establish  humanism  without  God-consciousness. 
God,  did  our  disquisitions  disclose?    In  the  first  place  the  revolution  evinced  the  Absolute  ignorance  as  to 
bankruptcy  of  the  perversion  and  onesided  treatment  of  the  Idea  of  humanity.    A  "  '^'°° 
humanism  severed  from  God-consciousness  can  never  be  made  a  success.    That  hu-  Siy'emptienfTtl*^ 
manity— which,  in  order  to  spite  God  and  religion,  elevated  the  sample-product  of  an  ^*"^'^"'*''*^''**- 
insane  reason  to  the  rank  of  a  goddess— was  by  that  usurper  of  divine  prerogatives,  ^'^'^"^^  ^  ^^  ^^*°'*'*- 
treated  with  utter  contempt,  in  a  most  inhumane  manner.   There  is  no  power  under  heaven  Sg^S"*^  "*  **"* 
which,  in  such  cases  of  disdain  shown  to  the  religious  side  of  humanity,  is  able  to  Enthusiasm  for  bettenn 
prevent  the  transition  from  radical  democracy  to  reckless  and  rank  despotism.    No  t^e  condition  of  peopus, 
earthly  power  is  able  to  save  such  a  humanity  from  sinking  into  the  lowest  condition  kindled  not  in  France 
of  either  servitude  or  brutality. 

Disdain  for  the  religious 

We  see  what  s:ood  in  the  negative  came  out  of  the  revolution  through  the  self-  not%feveÄe"' *^*'** 
revelation  of  human  nature  ih  all  its  capabilities.  Now  for  the  proper  application  of  ^^mocrac  tcT^k^'*"*' 
this  knowledge.  despotism. 

The  bitter  truth  contained  in  these  empirical  facts  yields  the  criterion  in  the  ^f ^„7^*^^*^°°^  °f  ^"™«^ 
first  place,  by  which  Rousseau's  theory  of  threadbare  natural  humanism  ought  to  have  outs  capabilities.* 
been  tested  before  its  adherents  put  it  into  practice  and  thereby  jeopardised  true  hu-  Rousseau's  threadbare 
manism.    What  Chateaubriand  pointed  out  in  his  terse  objection  quoted  above  is  S>7to"have"bTen°' 
correct;  and  what  De  Maistre  said  about  judgment  and  deliverance  is  correct,  also.      putS^ttoVacticai 

test  and  jeopardising 

For,  De  Maistre,  whose  true  patriotism  and  profound  Christian  Philosophy— matured  in  true  humanism. 
the  heat  and  under  the  storms  of  the  revolution— qualified  him  to  form  a  correct  judgment  of  hatilaubbiakd. 

it,  made  the  following  confession:    "Rousseau  was  better  than  I  am  myself,   as   I   have  Criticism  of  Rousseau  by 
acknowledged  unreservedly  and  without  any  reluctance.    He  strove  after  the  Good  with  his  ^^  Maistke. 
heart,  whilst  I  did  it  with  the  mind.    His  noble  soul  shuddered  at  the  sight  of  those  abomina- 
tions   to     which    the   leading  men    of   society  and    of  politics  stooped.       And  because  he 
found  the  savages  in  the  natural  state  less  corrupt,  he  employed  all  his  rhetoric  to  convince  Savages  less  corrupt 
us  that  a  mere  negative  condition  was  the  sole  aim  which  we  should  endeavor  to  reach  and      **"  ^*  *"  °  *°'"*  ^' 
the  only  perfection  which  we  could  hope  to  acquire". 

This  was  the  trend  of  Rousseau's  preaching  and  also  the  fallacy  of  the  irenic  opinion  of 
his  person  manifest  in  Maistre's  sentimental  utterance. 

But  what  other  preaching  was  then  to  be  heard  of  in  France?  Of  sin  and  its  con- 
sequences; of  the  "image"  restored  by  the  Mediator  and  to  be  renewed  in  Him  and 
through  the  means  of  His  grace;  of  human  dignity  and  freedom:  the  children  of  that 
time  knew  absolutely  nothing.  The  cognition  "humanity"  had  been  emptied  of  its 
essential  and  most  sacred  contents.  The  "negative"  side  simply  remained,  gener- 
ating that  spirit  of  negation  which  can  tear  down  the  fabric  of  a  false  culture  and 
destroy  much  good  with  it,  but  which  is  unable  to  build  up  anything  positive,  unable 
to  put  anything  better  in  its  place. 


390. 


Inthuslasm  sobered 
down,  disavowing 
ibntastical  procedures. 


Epidemic  nature  of 
revolutionary  paroxisms. 


Discretion  necessary  to 
judge  actors  and 
contemporary  sufferers. 


Performance  of  duty 
in  the  rural  districts  in 
offset  to  the  noise  of 
metropolitan  cities. 


Advantages  apparent 
after  stormy  times, 


In  which  history  rather 
unmakes  th.it  which 
■eems  to  make  history. 


Koble  traits  of  character 
developed. 


Overthrows  humiliating 
to  artificial  culture. 


KEDEEMING  FEATURES  OF  REVOLUTIONARY  PAROXYSM.  II  G.  Ch.  VII.  §  17&. 

Where  is  the  fault  to  be  lodged?  The  hierarchy  had  stopped  up  the  rejuvenating 
well-spring  of  humanism.  Bearing  in  mind  the  reign  of  Louis  XIV,  and  keeping  in 
view  the  complot  entered  into  by  absolute  hierarchy  and  monarchy,  in  order  to  defeat 
the  Huguenots  together  with  their  ideals  of  humanism,  and  in  order  to  smother  the 
moans  of  humanity,  history  charges  the  hierarchy  with  the  greater  guilt.  Consid- 
ering the  audacity  of  the  assaults  upon  humanity,  it  is  to  be  admitted  even,  that  the 
men  of  the  revolution  rescued  parts  of  this  ideal  notwithstanding  the  wild  measures 
employed.  Owing  to  Jesuitism  in  league  with  absolutism  the  outraged  nation  con- 
ceived the  thought  of  human  dignity  and  human  rights  in  the  negative  only;  but  it 
was  well  enough  that  so  much  of  the  idea  was  preserved.  None  of  those  men,  how- 
ever, to  say  nothing  of  the  crimes  committed  by  them  or  to  be  charged  to  their  respon- 
sibility, is  to  be  excused  on  that  account.  Excitement  and  allowing  one's  self  to  be 
allured  into  the  risks  of  perilous  enterprises  will  never  suffice  to  receive  the  esteem  of 
moral  merit  by  the  success  resulting,  if  the  way  to  reach  it  pass  through  deeds  of 
horror. 

In  the  beginning  of  the  movement  the  flame  of  enthusiasm  for  the  improvement  of  the 
condition  of  the  oppressed— vague  and  doubtful  as  it  was  conceived,  and  mad  as  to  the  method 
by  which  deliverance  was  contrived  at— was  comparatively  pure.  This  flame  was  not  kindled 
in  France  alone.  We  know  of  good  men  outside  of  it,  who  proved  their  philanthropy  by  large 
contributions  to  the  sacrifice  for  the  cause  of  humanity,  embracing  one  another,  regardless 
of  rank,  with  tears  of  joy  at  the  prospect  of  seeing  their  ideals  realised.  It  was  a  grand 
spectacle  to  see  the  idealistic  elation  of  the  best  men  in  all  countries,  who  were  aglow  for 
the  amelioration  of  suffering  and  the  adjustment  of  rightful  complaints.  What  soon  there- 
after made  them  turn  their  backs  to  the  revolution  in  its  progress— what  filled  the  sober 
friends  of  the  people  with  disgust  and  changed  enthusiasm  into  abhorrence — were  the  excesses 
of  that  fickle  temper  which  is  the  unfortunate  heritage  of  Frenchmen.  Nevertheless,  the 
sluices  were  thus  opened  through  which  the  stream  of  purification  was  let  in.  The  dirt  and 
pollution  carried  along  with  it  decides  nothing  as  to  the  quality  of  its  source  and  the  blessing 
left  after  the  flood.  An  inflated  national  pharisaeism  often  blames  the  reign  of  terror  upon 
the  rebellious  people  who  went  through  the  heat  nnd  chills  of  the  inflammatory  fever» 
and  who  suifered.  Without  palliating  the  moral  responsibility  of  the  actors,  the  epidemic 
nature  of  any  revolutionary  craze  is  to  be  brought  into  account.  Close  by  the  heights  of  ideal 
patriotism  and  genuine  consecration  to  the  cause  of  universal  welfare,  always  yawns  that 
abyss  from  which  unreasonable  demands  arise,  and  wild  frenzy,  much  similar  to  Shamanism, 
leaps  forth.  Whenever  such  paroxysms  seize  a  nation,  it  is  thrown  down  in  an  instant  from 
the  summit  of  artificial  culture  into  the  humiliating  stages  of  its  low  beginning.  The  sensa- 
tional details  occurring  under  the  general  infuriation  are  usually  described  in  full  and 
painted  in  strong  colors.  But  historiography  is  not  to  fall  into  the  error  of  thinking  that 
justice  has  been  done  to  the  subject  with  narrating  the  shocking  circumstances. 

To  form  a  true  picture  of  the  age,  the  quiet  labor  of  the  rural  portion  of  a  nation 
should  always  be  brought  into  consideration  together  with  the  noise  of  the  metropolis. 
Phenomena  of  ethical  beauty  may  then  be  noticed,  of  sublime  disinterestedness,of  inde- 
fatigable labor  and  devotion  to  the  common  cause  in  the  danger  of  hot  riots.  During  the 
intervals  of  transition  from  one  period  to  another,  and  under  the  tribulations  inci- 
dental to  the  process  of  forced  advance,  and  by  the  effects  of  great  and  long  continu- 
ing worry,  noble  and  sober  characters  are  formed  in  all  ranks  and  classes.  At  such 
times,  in  which  entire  nations  glow  like  metals  in  a  smelter,  all  phenomena  in 
their  sudden  changes  assume  gigantic  and  spectre-like  proportions.  These  circum- 
stances are  to  be  taken  into  account,  lest  we  judge  a  generation  only  by  the  scums 
pushing  themselves  to  the  foreground  or  foaming  out  on  top  and  swimming  upon  the 
surface.  Be  it  ever  remembered  that  in  such  times  history  rather  unmakes  that 
which  seems  to  make  history. 

For  history  is  not  to  be  pushed  forward  in  jerks  and  by  demonstrations  of  state  or 
party.  It  owes  its  true  progress  to  the  unostentatious,  noiseless,  and  faithful  performance  of 
duty ;  to  the  composure  of  mind  which  is  only  obtainable  under  the  benign  influences  of  the 
home  circle;  to  the  good  tone  of  the  family,  and  to  the  order  of  life  and  habits  in  well  regula- 
ted domestic  relations,  which  are  the  chief  factors  of  rearing  a  generation  of  selfpossessed, 
honest  and  industrious  citzens.  Altho  the  operations  of  these  coefficients  of  history  are 
scarcely  recognisable,  yet  they  are  not  to  be  ignored;  their  eflPects  will  soon  become  visible  in 
their  neutralising,  at  least,  the  evils  growing  out  of  turbulent  times. 

Upon  the  blessings  ensuing  from  any  revolution  to  the  nation  weathering  it,  we 
need  to  enlarge  no  further;  they  have  never  been  questioned.  "The  Author  of  the 
world's  history  writes  with  Lightnings".  Reading  aright  what  is  thus  written  by  a 
hand  unseen,  we  find  it  to  convey  grace,  deliverance,  salvation.     Without  this  writ  of 


n  G.  Ch.  VIII.  §  180.  GERMANY  HUMILIATED  AND  REGENERATED.  331 

fire,  humanism  would  have  to  give  up  the  ghost  in  the  gloomy  dungeons  of  its  bas- 
tiles  of  sinfulness,  slothf ulness,  and  sullenness,  into  which  it  allows  itself  to  be 
immured  again  and  again. 

CH.  VIII.    COSMOPOLITAN  WORLD-THEORIES  -  EUROPEAN  SYSTEM  OF  STATES.  Germany,  which 

had  once 

§  180.    A  reaction  equivalent  to  that  which  had  counteracted  the  previous  attempts  e?roneou?®^  ^^^ 
at  emancipation  is  now  to  be  encountered.  It  seems  that  the  geographical  position  of  immanism  of 
Germany  requires  of  its  nation,  that  it  should  balance  and  adjust  all  the  mental  and  ecfiestasticism, 
spiritual  contests  agitating  Christendom.     Hence  it  happened  that  the  reaction  e^^^fmterl^th"^ 
against  this  latest  phase  of  human  precipitation  set  in  on  the  German  side  of  the  false  humanism 
Rhine.    The  reaction  began  where  once  the  movement  of  deliverance  from  Roman  woridfiness/"^ 
bondage  had  begun  to  refute  a  false  liberty.    The  deistical  utilitarianism  of  England 
and  the  atheistic  sensualism  of  France  had  rushed  in  over  the  ramparts  of  German  ^      .     .  „ 

Despotism,  following 

conservatism.    Despotism,  naturally  following  anarchy,  had  thereby  been  enabled  to  anarchy,  broke 

"  down  the  boundary 

break  the  connections  of  historical  development  and  for  the  duration  of  a  few  decades  unes  on  the  European 

maps  for  a  few  decades 

to  change  the  boundary  lines  on  the  maps  of  Europe.    But  through  the  same  events  »«^y. 
the  nations  became  also  purged  of  corrupt  customs,  as  grain  is  fanned  upon  the  whilst  the  profound 
threshing  floor.    The  chaff  of  loose  theories  and  anomalous  practices  was  carried  off  renTered^'permfnentr 
by  the  storms. 

The  ideals  of  a  very  distorted  humanity  had  succumbed  to  a  rough,  sometimes  France  slipped  another 
awfully  rough  reality.      Opportunity  had  again  been  given  for  becoming  acquainted  rEd?d*<^f  üiit^*'""'* 
with  the  actual  propensities  of  human  nature,  and  to  become  reminded  of  that  repre-  rumlnrtSfwhofione 
sentative  of  humanity  who  alone  should  be  taken  as  the  model,  who  alone   furnishes  thSsVor^  '"'^  ""^ 
the  rule  and  the  tools  for  the  reconstruction  of  the  social  organism.  reconstruction 

There  had  been  the  cue  and  the  coifiPure  a  la  Pompadour,  symbolic  of  a  culture  of  mere 
mannerism,  when  people,  disgusted  with  the  over-refinement  of  lap-dogery,  played  with  The  actual  prospensities 
Rousseau's  "children  of  nature"  and  with  savages.  The  antagonists  of  modern  conventional-  °*  ^^^^'^  nature 
ism  and  old  cues  were  allowed  to  act  the  wild  men  to  their  heart's  content  as  long  as  they  only 
cried:  "Look  here,  we  savages  are  better  men  than  you  are!"  But  ere  long  those  savages 
jumped  upon  the  smooth  parquet  of  Europe  and  into  the  salons  vacated  by  the  refugees.  Then 
was  the  time,  when  the  well  bred  European,  too,  tried  his  hand  at  what  he  might  contribute  to 
the  swamping  of  the  arena  with  blood. 

In  short,  illusions  and  phantoms  had  been  dispelled.    Society  in  its  agonies  al- 
most involuntarily  and  instinctively  ran  for  help  to  the  principles  of  long,  long  ago,  humanism  in  the 
which  in  ancestral  times  had  proved  efficient  in  even  worse  emergencies.  Christian  sense. 

The  minds  of  Germany  had  gone  through  the  disclipinary  vicissitudes  of  a  deep  Literary  barrenness  of 
humiliation.    During  the  period,  beginning  with  the  Thirty  Years  War  and  continu-  the  plriodlwiÄhe^ 
ing  until  the  middle  of  the  eighteenth  century,  Germans  had  to  sustain  the  miseries  nfau^rs o/taste,"" 
of  political  apathy  and  literary  destitution.    The  poets  imported  their  material  from 
France  in  such  abundance  and  of  such  taste,  that  the  German  mind  withdrew  from  „„tii  in  Miiton's  strain 
competition  and  took  a  rest.    Then  came  Klopstock  who  in  the  very  strain  of  Milton  *ho4"!rtnfhe  "XssiL'- 
and  under  circumstances  of  similar  national  distress,  rallied  his  countrymen  for  a  re-  "*  klopstock. 

vival  of  the  consciousness  of  their  value.  His  Christian  epic  in  Greek  hexameter  be- 
came at  once  a  barrier  against  flippant  and  flirting  productions  of  enlightenment 
which  in  French  ball  costume  and  court  livery  had  attracted  a  few  rich  clumsy  Ger- 
mans for  quite  a  while.  Now  it  was  shown  how  the  grave  and  yet  suave  classic  form 
may  be  appropriated  to  render  the  most  tender  and  majestic  ideals  of  the  German 
Christian  mind  fit  for  presenting  art  at  its  acme. 

The  places  of  Rafael  and  Duerer  in  the  period  of  the  religious  reform  were  filled  by  spiritual  essence  in 
Milton  and  Klopstock  at  the  dawn  of  the  sera  of  cosmopolitan  civilisation.    Goethe  in  his  fj^*^g*J,i°^'?  eni?°  of^^* 
Iphigenia  taught  how  a  figure  of  the  antique  may  be  animated  with  warmth  and  emotion  G(eth«. 

upon  heights  of  cognition  where  form  and  essence,  body  and  spirit  conform  themselves  to 
each  other.  Is  it  not  marvelous,  how  even  the  arts  always  mirror  the  epochs  and  illustrate 
the  thought  controlling  them? 

Here  again  it  is  to  be  noticed  how  the  contrasts  alternate  between  Hellenistic  extolling  of 
this  world  with  its  forms  of  beauty,  and  on  the  other  hand,  the  Byzantine-Roman  onesidedness 
of  celebrating  the  next  world,  whilst  treating  the  natural  form  and  real  life  with  contempt.  This 
contrast  is  now  reconciled.  The  restlessness  and  dissatisfaction  called  forth  by  the  extremes 
of  stifP  transcendentalism  and  nude  naturalism  is  harmonised  by  the  intrinsic  life  propagated 
through  Christian  methods  of  civilisation,  in  which  spiritual  essence  and  natural  forms  as- 

24 


BACK  TO  CHEISTIAN  EQUANIMITY. 


n  G.  ch.  vm  §  180 


similate  each  other.  In  this  blending  of  essence  and  appearance  that  form  of  existence 
ete^'^oncerepresen'^d'^*'  is  anticipated,  which  will  be  realised  when  the  thought  of  humanity  is  apprehended  in  its 
the  transcendental  in  full  depth.  Then  even  that  delicacy  of  sentiment  will  come  to  be  empiric  which  Fiesole. 
Its  immanency.  Schongauer  and  Meister  Stephan  once  put  into  their  paintings. 

Understanding  of  classic  measure,  symmetry  and  appreciation  of  character  and 
German  nation  reminded  ^asto  of  the  ancleuts  assisted  the  Germans  to  appreciate  also  the  excellencies  of  their 

ol  ancestral  times  in  ^^ 

moSiÄue"^"*  ""^    ^^^  antiquities.    They  became  incited  to  make  themselves  familiar  with  the  features 
honTof  "th^  king  of"'    ^^  *^®  characteristic  peculiarities  of  their  ancestors.    And  a  still  deeper  impulse  led 
the  common  people",      tho  modem  mlud  back  to  Him,  who  in  the  primitive  times  had  been  by  them  embrac- 
ed as  the  captain  of  salvation  and  king  of  the  common  people,  in  whose  person  alone 
the  thought  of  humanism  is  definite  and  perfect,  and  the  attainment  of  ideal  human- 
ity warranted. 


Literary  reaction 
against  infidelity. 


Religious  realism. 

Uamabh,  Okttinokb. 


Reminiscences  of 

German  antique, 


of  Mysticism, 
of  Tauler,  etc. 


In  the  Heavenly  Head 
and  center  of  the        ^ 
universe,  the  process  of 
palingenesis  originates 
and  is  to  be  concluded, 

with  whom  the  people 
stand  in  the 

relation  of  a 

faithful 

covenant. 

Romanticism. 


Reminiscences  of 
the  Oriental 
metamorphoses 
revive ; 


until  the  aberrations  of 
Romanticism  are 
reduced  to  their 
Jesuitical  sources  and 
intentions  and 
retracted.    National 
history  preferred  to 
French  robber-stories. 


Retrogression  from 
universal  humanism  to 
national  narrow- 
mindedness, 
(nativistic  clannishness) 


Concerning  the  latter  phase  of  the  reaction  as  effected  through  literature  the  first  beacon 
light  gleamed  up  in  Hamann's  realism. 

The  conceptic>n  of  a  spirituality  in  the  concrete,  which  Oettinger  expostulated  as  advan- 
tageous to  religion— because  according  to  him  "corporeality  was  the  end  of  all  God's  ways"— 
was  also  Hamann's  conviction;  only  that  his  illustrious  thoughts  were  given  in  such  aphoris- 
tic utterances  gliding  over  the  entire  field  of  contemporaneous  literature  like  the  zig-zag 
flashes  of  lightning,  as  to  be  poorly  adapted  to  popularisation.  Nevertheless,  Hamann  showed 
how  the  Savior  of  the  world  is  to  be  perceived  as  the  ruler  of  the  universe,  as  which,  after  Ha- 
mann, He  was  exhibited  in  the  writings  of  Lavater,  Claudius,  Joung  Stilling,  Baader,  J.  F. 
von  Meyer,  Steffens  and  H.  v.  Schubert.  Once  more  the  Savior  is  acknowledged  as  the  center 
of  secular  as  well  as  sacred  history.  His  person  is  not  only  adored  as  the  Savior  of  men,  but 
also  conceived  as  the  center  of  the  visible  universe  which  in  and  through  Him  is  going  to  be 
renewed  and  gloriously  transmuted.  In  Him,  as  the  Heavenly  Head  and  center  of  the  cosmos, 
the  great  process  of  the  palingenesis  originates  and  proceeds  through  the  medium  of  humanity, 
and  concludes  with  the  redemption  of  the  natural  world.  All  of  that  which  is  human  stands 
forth  now  under  the  aspect  of  a  faithful  covenant  with  Him  who  is  the  "center  of  equation", 
as  it  were,  around  whom  in  widening  concentric  circles  even  the  visible  universe  moves,  and 
in  whose  behalf  a  contest  wages  even  in  the  spheres  of  the  spiritual  world.  After  this  reac- 
tion of  humanism  against  the  "emancipation  of  the  flesh,"  Romanticism  revived,  a  school  of 
literary  dilettanteism  which  in  song  and  music  awakened  long  forgotten  sentiments.  The 
world  of  fairies  and  folklore  was  resurrected.  The  mysteries  of  the  primitive  forests,  and  the 
wondrous  legend  of  the  chapel  in  the  woods  with  its  sunken  treasury  vaults ;  the  old  castles 
with  troubadour  and  tournament;  the  mountain  caves  with  their  elves  and  goblins;  the 
enchanted  virgins  and  the  blue  flowers  with  their  miraculous  power— they  were  presented 
again  to  the  imagination  almost  in  their  native  vividness.  Again  the  old  knights  rode  out 
upon  their  adventures,  and  the  rocks  reechoed  the  bugle-call  sounded  among  the  dear  old 
oaks  yet  standing  in  the  familiar  dale.  Under  the  spells  of  the  Antique,  of  the  Renaissance, 
and  of  French  robber  stories,  these  legendary  tales  had  been  neglected  and  silenced,  together 
with  national  history.  Now  the  latter  study  especially  revived  once  more  and  again  exerted 
its  charming  and  educating  influence  over  the  academic  youth.  The  Germanic  nations  seemed 
to  remember  the  scenes  of  their  common  childhood;  the  educated  at  least  opened  themselves 
to  the  knowledge  of  past  ages  and  of  what  once  these  times  had  been  so  full  of  promise.  With 
Goethe  they  learned  the  significance  of  the  Strassburg  minister  and  to  appreciate  again  the 
pious  patriotism  of  Tauler,  who  had  been  among  the  first,  if  he  was  not  the  first  one,  to  preach 
in  German ;  and  they  learned  to  understand  again  his  mystical  contemplation.  But  venerable 
as  the  portals  of  stone  were,  love  of  the  natural  imagined  to  hear  the  springs  of  the  fables 
murmur  close  beside  them.  Goethe's  autobiography  mingles  "truth  and  fiction"  like  scenes 
under  moonlight.  The  rambles  of  Romanticism  in  literature  enchant  the  eager  pursuers  of 
the  loan-libraries,  with  dreams  of  convent  gardens  inclosed  by  high  walls,  and  benumbs 
them  with  the  temperature  of  the  cross-passages  in  the  cloisters.  Partial  loss  of  sober 
views  of  actual  life,  and  disgust  with  its  duties  energetically  to  be  practiced,  was  the  conse- 
quence of  nurturing  the  mind  with  such  food. 


The  tendencies  of  Romanticism  amounted  to  a  retrogression  from  universalistic 
views  as  to  humanism  into  national  confines  and  narrow  notions;  to  a  relapse  from 
Hellenistic   realism  to  transcendental  "Romance."    Repeatedly  we  have  noticed 
Relapse  of  aesthetics  into  plaluly  how  tho  couditiou  of  culturo  depends  upon  the  religious  undercurrent  and 


trfns*'ct?i'dentafism  0?'°   Immediately  shows  itself  in  the  "representative  arts".    Again  the  eye  met  the  symp- 
of   the   Byzantinism,  couched   under   denominational   absolutism:  the  lean 


Byzantium. 


g  63, 125,  137. 


toms  of  the  Byzantinism, 
and  languid  corpses  of  the  Mediator  and  all  the  saints.  Those  paintings  desip^nate  that 
aesthetics  had  been  superseded  by  the  reveries  of  asceticism;  that  the  morbid  mind 
craved  to  nourish  itself  upon  the  world-soreness  in  trying  to  satisfy  the  religious 
wants,  as  the  pious  had  relied  upon  in  bygone  ages. 


n  G.  Ch.  Vin.  §  181.  THE  SIGNIFICANCE  OF  THE  "ROMANCE".  333 

The  professional  propagators  of  the  Roman  world-theory  availed  themselves,  fur-  Jesuitism  utilises 
thermore,  of  a  power  of  which  no  Roman  ever  had  thought  before.       The  Germans  S*p®  JiK  its 
with  their  great  regard  for  everything  in  print  were  not  aware  that  Jesuitism  then  ^oSidsmt^Joug"'^ 
already  had  learned  how  to  manipulate  the  daily  press  in  the  dissemination  of  the  Ro-  o?  unTeaMift'"**'""'" 
man  allurements  just  at  the  time  when,  more  than  ever,  it  would  have  been  neces- 
sary to  refrain  from  romantic  intoxication. 

For  just  tlien  Pope  Pius  had  restored  tlie  order  of    Jesuits  by  reading  mass  at  tlie  Reactionary  steps 
altar  of  St.  Ignatius  (sc.  Loyola),  by  the  rehabilitation  of  the  "holy"  inquisition,  and  by  the  fCiismrsr' ''**'°'* 
condemnation  of  the  Germanic  bible  societies.    For  the  first  time  again  since  James  II,  a  protestantism. 
cardinal  appeared  upon  English  soil  in  his  official  paraphernalia.    While  the  victorious  allies,   pappi  infallibitv 
constituting   the    "holy   alliance,"    entered     Paris,  Catholics    of    Southern    France    made  advi^sed  by    DkMaistbk. 
attacks  upon  the  houses  of  protestants.    Count  De  Maistre  loudly  proclaimed  papal  infalli-      ^^  ^    ,  , 

...  o..,  «1  ».1  •  ^    ^  •  ,*■  *h*  basis  for  social 

bility  as  the  single  means  of  safety,  because  of  the  pope  being  the  umpire  of  the  nations,  and  order  and  for  the 
since  therefore  to  him,  as  the  common  father  of  Christendom,  all  legitimate  rulers  were  bound  reconstruction  of 
in  obedience.    In  southern  Germany  the  people  were  belabored  to  accept  the  same  views.      U"***?®* 
Haller,  under  episcopal  permit,  was  secretly  a  catholic,  tho  as  a  magistrate  of  Berne  he  Haller's 
swore  to  protect  the  Reformed  Church.     Altho  a  citizen  of  a  republic,  he  admonished  the  intrigues, 
princes:  "Beware  of  the  term  'constitution';  it  is  poison  to  monarchism,  because  it  presup-  secret  catiiollc  and 
poses  and  nourishes  democracy."    And  the  admonition  lodged  deeply  with  worried  princes  monarchistic  designs  in 
and  loyal  subjects,  who  were  unsophisticated   enough  to  forget  that  the  Roman  catholic  disguise.^ 
countries  were  the  hot-beds  of    revolutions.    Politically  the  people  were  held  in  such  igno- 
ranee  of  Metternich's  popish  coalition  as  to  imbibe  the  hatred  against  the  Protestant  north  of  intriffiies'    ^Q  184. 
Germany,  administered  in  drop-wise  doses  by  Roman  newspaper  correspondents  in  Munich 
and  Vienna,  Mainz  and  Treves. 

But  as  it  had  been   contrived   that  the  gradual  ingratiation  with  Romanti-  Revolutions  hatched  out 
cism  should  prepare  minds  for  Romanism,  the  tumults  of  the  French,  the  Spanish,  the  ^  ^°™*'*'^®*  countrie«. 
Mexican  and  Italian  overthrows  chased  terrified  souls  into  the  Catholic  church,  the 
only  place  on  earth,  where  an  inclination  for  Asiatic  resignation  and  dream-life 
could  find  an  asylum.    In  the  turbid  waters  there  was  good  fishing. 

§  181.  A  reaction  again  altered  the  course  of  this  under-current,  as  became  manifest 
in  all  domains  of  science,  foremost  in  the  theories  about  state-rights.  Before  con- 
sidering, however,  the  new  experiments  in  this  direction,  it  will  be  advisable  first  to 
examine  another  phenomenon. 

The  ancient,  specifically  oriental,  form  of  consciousness  persistently  tends  to  ob-  R^a^^JjeSnThr"* 
trude  itself  upon  the  Occident.    This  manifests  itself  in  the  repeated  attempts  to  es-  science  of  pomicai 

^  economy.  |  188. 

tablish  an  universal  monarchy  by  means  of  a  sort  of  spiritual  monopoly.  To  succeed 
in  the  arrangement  of  such  a  world-wide  empire  the  application  of  Asiatic  views  is  in- 
dispensably necessary.  This  obtrusiveness  cannot  be  taken  as  merely  accidental  con- 
currence. It  is  to  be  understood,  rather,  as  a  preappointed  coefficient  in  the  work- 
ings of  history. 

It  must  not  be  regarded  simply  as  the  efPect  of  a  general  law,  according  to  which  every  Examination  of 
thought  takes  place  under  thf>  oscillations  between  contrasts.    For  if  the  formative  cognitions  the  persistent 
proceeded  after  such  lawfulness,  the  idea  of  humanity  even  would  ever  have  to  be  conceived  tendency  to 
anew  by  each  generation,  and  to  be  cleared  up  by  going  through  opposite  extremes.    This  orientarvi^ws 
mechanical  and  generalising  aspect  of  history  is  insufficient  to  comprehend  the  changes  as  upon  European 
in  any  way  conducive  to  human  progress.     The  recurring  symptoms  of  that  obtrusive  ten-  forms  of 
dency  of  orientalism  are  not  even  explicable  by  the  other  observation  that  our   race  is  more  Establish  a 
subject  to  the  sway  of  feminine  receptivity  and  passiveness — moving  down  glacier-like  from  universal  empire, 
the  heights  of  Central- Asia  upon  Europe— in  alternating  advances  and  recedings,  than  to  the  „  ^      ,.   ui  i. 

,  «  , .  ^  .  Not  explicable  by 

impulses  or  masculine  energy  and  aggressiveness.  referring  to  mechanical 

Rather  may  the  fact  be  argued  that  the  tendency  under  discussion  seems  to  be  a  Lndufaungbetween 
part  of  the  design  underlying  history.    Most  probably  the  idea  of  a  massive  material-  •'*"'*'*'*^  §  22, 38, 39. 51. 
isation  of  the  Christian  thought  was  intentionally  permitted  to  remain  among  The  obtrusive  tendency 
Christian  nations  as  sedimentary  remnants  of  nature-bound  humanity.    In  our  opin-  eve°n'exjuclbie"t^  the 
ion  Greek  and  Roman  Catholicism  is  to  be  regarded  as  a  sort  of  •  petrified   layer,  much  SaL"d  mS'ine^*"' 
like  the  ethnical  substratufti  of  pristine  culture  so  often  referred  to.  We  deem  it  to  be  energy  of  Europe. 
the  necessary  natural  basis  for  spiritual  culture.    We  conceive  this  formation  as  the  JJ^r^gs^of^*^^"^ 
transitory  stage  between  the  old  and  new  dispensations,  as  the  disciplinary  state  un-  „       ,     ^ 

,        .-,       ,  „  ,x^^.  ,      Catholicism,  Greek  and 

der  the  law  preparatory  to  the  state  of  free  grace;  as  about  the  same  that  Mohammed-  Latin,  to  b«  considered 

<=•  '  _,,.■,,  as  sedimentary  remnants 

anism  is  now  to  the  Africans.    If  this  should  prove  to  be  the  case,  then  that  com-  of  the  culture  of 

J.  ...  ^.      ...  ....  .  .,,  ,       '  ,  ,    peoples  in  the  nature- 

pact  organisation  among  Christians  will  have  to  be  considered  as  designed  and  bound  sute, 

preserved  not  on  its  own  account  but  in  order  to  serve  the  whole.    For  this  form  of  t»™'"?  the  natural 

,  basis  for  spititual 

Christianity  as  a  substratum  holds  undeveloped  individualism  in  a  firm  and  fixed  po-  culture, 
sition,  preserving  it  against  the  perils  of  abortive  and  arbitrary  subjectivism. 


as  men's  "state  under 
the  law"  transitory  to 
the'ttateof  free 
grace". 


Propaedeutic  significance 
of  catholic  legalism. 


Minds  to  whom 
Catholicism 
seems 
preferable. 

Comparison 
between 
Catholicism  and 
Protestantism : 

Reliance  upon  church 
authority , 


responsibility  to  God 
alone: 


obedient  conformance, 
voluntary  acceptance. 


Thought  and  external 
life  under  custody  of 
priesthood  and 
symbolism. 

Piety  made  test  proof 
in  life's  hand  to  hand 
warfare. 

Ecclesiastical 
indulgences; 
superabundant  sanctity 
stored  up  from  which 
lack  of  ethics  may  be 
cheaply  replenished. 

Caution  in  propagating 
the  Kingdom  of  Heaven. 


Relic-worship, 


Critical  sifting  as  to 
essentials  and  externals. 


Afraid  of  progressiveness 


Proper  conduct  In  the 

world  to  cultivate 
character  and  to  fulfill 
the  ethical  task. 


The  past  praised 
by  Catholicism ; 


the  future 
belongs  to 
Protestantism. 


Undervaluing  the 
significance  of  religious 
forms  and  objectivity 
will  not  invalidate 
protestantism. 


COMPARISON  BETWEEN  ROMANISM  AND  PROTESTANTISM.      II  G.  Ch  VIEI.  §  181. 

This  system  simply  enjoins  devoutness,  selfrenunciation  and  ritualistic  per- 
formances upon  its  adherents.  Of  the  individual  it  requires  neither  the  mental  exer- 
cise which  conditions  the  appropriation  of  the  truth;  nor  does  it  enlist  the  individual 
member  in  the  contest  which  ensues  from  the  process  of  excreting  alien  elements. 
For  this  latter  process  of  uninterrupted  purification,  Protestantism  requires  the  judi- 
cious cooperation  of  every  Christian,  in  order  to  make  the  government  of  the  church 
the  pattern  for  free  self-government. 

Hierarchism  has  made  arr augments  for  preserving  the  unity,  protecting  the  per- 
petuity, and  augmenting  the  external  power  of  the  church,  under  which  church-gov- 
ernment can  stipulate  the  easier  terms  of  filial  submission,  reliance  upon  authority 
and  childlike  credulity.  Hence  to  minds  shunning  the  exercise  of  thought,  the 
responsibility  of  personal  sanctification ,  and  the  annoyances  connected  with  the 
assurance  of  a  vivid  hope  based  upon  a  cheerful  faith,  this  system  of  spiritual  guard- 
ianship must  appear  preferable  to  Protestantism  with  its  demand  of  manliness  in 
the  faith,  and  decisiveness  in  its  good  fight. 

Catholicism  lets  individual  life  rest— undisturbed  under  the  least  possible  selfculture,  and 
unconcerned  as  to  personal  participation  in  affairs  of  ecclesiastical  government— in  the  life  of 
the  genus,  so  to  say,  in  the  lap  of  the  mother-church. 

Protestantism  is  bent  upon  weaning  individual  life  from  the  leading  strings  of  human 
authority  and  from  reliance  upon  it ;  bent  upon  educating  people  to  answer  for  themselves, 
and  to  rely  upon  God  alone. 

Catholicism  takes  the  responsibilities  of  the  individual  upon  itself,  and  warrants  his 
salvation  under  condition  of  his  obedient  conformity ;  whereas  Protestantism  charges  every 
confessor  with  working  out  his  own  salvation,  and  with  voluntary  acceptance  of  the  means  of 
grace  to  this  end. 

Catholicism  keeps  individual  thought  and  external  deportment  under  the  spiritual  guid- 
ance of  the  institution  in  its  massive  compactness — whilst  Protestantism  loosens  the  believer 
from  the  fetters  of  symbolism,  and  with  a  benediction  dismisses  him  into  the  hand-to-hand 
warfare  of  life,  so  that  he  may  gain  therein  a  keen  sense  of  personal  responsibility,  personal 
judgment,  conviction,   and  experience. 

Catholicism  binds  and  conceals  individual  piety,  and  absorbs  meritorious  works  in  its 
communistic  chest  of  superabundant  sanctity,  from  whence  a  lack  of  ethical  integrity  may 
cheaply  be  replenished.  Under  the  impressive  forms  of  the  cult,  and  by  the  oppressive  powers 
of  external  contrivances  it  fixes  religiousness  under  the  weight  of  symbolic  surroundings, 
pretending  thereby  to  shield  Christian  piety  against  profanation. 

Protestantism  endeavors  to  educate  persons  in  clear,  purely  spiritual,  and  true  cogni- 
tions, and  is  cautious  as  to  the  choice  of  external  means  of  instruction,  of  discipline,  and 
edification ;  cautious  also  as  to  the  method  of  propagating  the  Kingdom  of  Heaven. 

Catholicism  conserves,  frequently  more  than  conserves,  the  details  of  traditional  tenets 
which  have  accumulated  from  the  remotest  times  and  obscurest  corners  of  history.  It  pre- 
serves the  old  and  outworn  household  goods  and  every  piece  of  scaffolding  once  used  in  the 
upbuilding  of  the  church,  as  relics,  whose  sacredness  is  said  to  grow  with  age,  and  to  inhere  in 
a  most  incredible  manner  in  the  most  absurd  objects.  Protestantism,  being  inclined  to  criti- 
cal investigation  and  sifting,  cogently  discriminates  between  encumbering  and  essential 
externals.  Catholicism  poses  in  the  antiquity  of  its  apparatus,  and  keeps  the  obedient 
children  in  the  venerable  father-house  where  progressiveness  cannot  taint  the  atmosphere, 
lest,  by  its  being  let  in,  the  church  would  be  contaminated  with  the  airs  of  profaneness.  The 
children  of  the  "fathers"  become  drilled  in  the  primitive  method  of  picture-thinking  in  order 
to  form  apperceptions  of  a  very  materialistic  supernatural  world.  Protestantism  repudiates 
this  combination  of  renouncing  and  at  the  same  time  domineering  over  the  world.  It  teaches 
proper  conduct  in  the  world  and  cultivates  firmness  of  character,  which  enables  its  members 
to  take  a  hand  in  transforming  the  world,  and  in  furtherance  of  fulfilling  the  common 
ethical  task. 

These  are  the  curves  which  prescribe  to  Protestantism  the  direction  for  future 
advance,  whilst  Catholicism  praises  the  past.  Protestantism  will  sometimes  depre- 
ciate the  value  of  the  Church  as  an  institution  to  be  strictly  organised,  and  may 
undervalue  the  ethical  significance  of  disciplinary  functions,  and  concede  little 
import  to  the  educational  influence  of  ritualistic  forms  of  worship:  the  future  will 
belong  to  it,  nevertheless.  For  the  task  of  the  church  is  paramount  to  the  ends  of 
history.  It  consists  in  educating  the  children  of  men  to  true  consciousness  and  ele- 
vating them  to  spiritual  maturity;  and  it  consists  in  the  deliverance  of  nature  from 
its  state  of  confinement,  in  the  advancement  of  the  arrested  culture  of  nature-bound 
people. 


n  G.  Ch.  VIG:.  §  182.  papal  infallibility.  335 

Hence  mental  labor  and  spiritual  strife  are  what  the  future  bears  in  its  foldings,  coming  contests  tor  the 

o    »    maintenance  of 

and  for  which  Protestantism  is  to  equip  the  faithful.    In  this  coming  contest  many  «vangeiicai  freedom, 
will  be  found  wanting  and  will  suffer  shipwreck  by  steering  under  winds  of  misapplied  implying  the  risk  «or 
freedom:  yet  this  labor  and  strife  for  the  maintenance  of  freedom  in  its  true  sense  "wpwreck"  *' 
are  the  signature  of  the  coming  period  regardless  of  such  as  may  fall. 

Protestantism  is  charged  with  the  administration  of  these  guiding  maxims.    It  ven-  will  not  induce 
tures  out  upon  the  high  waters,  insisting  upon  the  right  of  its  disciples  to  take  upon  them-  Protestantism  to  retain 
selves  the  risk  of  leaving  the  father-house  and  to  try  their  capabilities  in  a  strange  and  stormy  tutelage. 
world,  in  order  to  become  selfsupporting  and  weatherproof.    Catholicism  has  faith  in  the 
safety  of  its  children  only  so  far  as  they  stay  inside  the  visible  fold  and  remain  in  their  natural 
simplicity;— whilst  Protestantism,  having  faith  in  divine  guidance  and  in  humanity,  lets  its 
children  roam  through  the  open  fields  of  thought  with  no  less  concern  for  their  spiritual  wel- 
fare. 

Catholicism,  for  the  time  being  at  least,  forms  the  broad  and  massive  basis  for  the  idea  By  virtue  of  Roman 
of  an  organised  corporation,  if  not  of  a  permanent  incarnation,  in  whatever  proportions  it  cathoUci^n^afförds  a 
may  be  mixed  with  the  elements  of  the  lowest  substratum   from  which  new  personal  life  will  counterpoise  to 

i.i'.ioT^«  ,,  ..  1  o  !••.  .  ,  ,  Protestant  subjectivism. 

ever  detach  itself.  It  forms  the  great  store-house  from  which  in  successive  ages,  and  under 
various  circumstances  forces  may  be  secured  which  are  yet  to  be  rendered  useful  as  historic 
coefficients.  Should  Protestanism  ever  become  powerless  against  ecclesiastical  anarchy,  and 
allow  the  Christian  thought  to  be  dissolved  through  rank  subjectivism,  then  Catholicism 
would  form  the  necessary  counterpoise. 

For  developing  and  realising  the  thought  of  true  humanity  in  every  individual, 
the  history  of  the  Christian  world  needs  both  Protestant  activity  and  advance  as  well 
as  catholic  conservation  and  patient  perseverance.  The  perils,  to  which  this  cause  of 
humanity  is  exposed  on  both  sides,  make  it  necessary  that  each  in  turn  shall  comple- 
ment the  other. 

Thus  it  might  be  argued  for  the  sake  of  irenics.  not™Sn™wiedge 

Of  course,  from  the  aspect  of  Catholicism  this  necessity  of  being  complemented  bein^^^^^*^  ^^ 
by  Protestantism  cannot  be  conceded,  for  Catholicism  claims  the  realisation  of  the  complemented  by 
Kingdom  of  God  exclusively  for  itself,  consequently  it  insists  upon  its  right  of  being  and  wlif "  *^™' 
intolerant,  and  persists  in  the  wrong  position  once  assumed.  in^h^  w^SnS^^^^* 

Ecclestiastical  measures  of  precaution— which  on  special  occasions  may  become  assumed  ^"^'^ 
necessary,  and  which  may  become  beneficial  factors  in  preserving  the  cause  of  hu- 
manism  in  cases  of  emergency— were  elaborated  into  a  fixed  yet  flexible  system  with  Roman  *  ^  ° 
a  definite  purpose.    It  is  on  account  of  this  flexibility  that  Rome  is  not  altogether  re-  renders  ^^ 
liable  as  a  depository  of  the  thought  of  humanity,  and  as  an  administratrix  of  hu-  Catholicism  an 
maneness.    The  episcopal  ofiice  was  made  less  authoritative  in  order  to  establish  a  conservatism.^  ^ 
seat  for  the  exaltation  of  one  metropolitan;  the  complaints  of  nations  during  the  §  i36, 164, 165. 

strife  for  the  supremacy  of  "spiritual  power"  were  ignored;  the  possibility  of  reforms  cÄiSäte^Sm- 
was  forestalled  by  papal  infallibility,  and  the  danger  may  become  palpable  that  a  '"  fo«staiied  by 
power  arise  in  the  Occident  upon  Asiatic  principles,  notwithstanding  the  staunch  infaUibiiity. 
opposition  which  the  efforts  to  that  effect  always  had  to  encounter  in  the  Germanic  ^^' 

nations.    Upon  anticipations  which  hold  the  pliability  and  judaistic  exclusiveness  of  JrlÄ^sm  tlTroufh*™*'' 
Catholicism  capable  of  still  worse  designs,  we  shall  not  meditate.  the_science  of  social^  ^^^ 

§  182.    The  German  cognitions  of  the  rights  of  monarchs  and  subjects  were  de-  German  cognition  o« 
lineated  when  the  development  of  freedom  in  young  nations  on  new  soil  was  put  in  "^^*^ 
contrast  with  the  life  and  ideas  of  the  ancient  world. 

In  the  Orient  monarchial  absolutism  is  established  as  a  matter  of  course,  people  Retrospect  upon  the 
submitting  to  it  as  to  their  fate.    In  yonder  countries  the  pretentiousness  of  domin-  oSaTand'ocddTntai 
ion  knows  no  limit.    Every  kingdom  is  in  perpetual  animosity  with  all  the  ad  ja-  **"^'"'  °*  government 
cent  kingdoms,  each  assuming  the  right  to  treat  its  neighbors  as  outlaws  and  the  Absolutism  of  one 
neighboring  governments  as  rebels.    The  rulers  like  Cyrus  and  the  Pharaohs  are  '^*'^°"' 
priests  if  not  gods,  concentrating  all  power  in  their  persons. 

In  opposition  to  the  universal  sway  of  formidable  views  Christianity,  regardless  pe^onai  freedom  o* 
of  the  enmity  thus  provoked,  at  once  emphasised  the  freedom  of  every  person.  On  en-  ''"^"^  christian. 
tering  Europe  this  Christian  thought  met  a  copious  variety  of  nations  with  diverse  for- 
mations, instead  of  oriental  despotic  massiveness  and  uniformity.  After  the  Roman 
amalgamate  of  the  heterogeneous  is  disintegrated,  the  Christian  thought  prevails, 
blesses  labor,  teaches  to  cultivate  the  homestead,  makes  people  permanent  settlers, 
and  alters  the  autonomy  of  chiefs  and  war-kings  into  the  elective  kingship  of  the 


EUROPEAN  SYSTEM  OF  STATES. 


II  G.  Ch.  VIII.  §  18. 


Rome — Byzantium 
intermediates  oriental; 
forms  of  rule. 


Imposing  them  upon 
the  Germanic  nations 
under  elective  kingship. 

Axiom  of  the  oneness 
of  state-power  prevailed 
in  the  Romanised,  and 
finally  §  123. 


the  Germanic  nations. 


Genesis  of  the 

"European 
system  of  states". 


Conformity  of  political 
arrangements. 


International  rights 
founded  upon  common 
consent. 


Common  recoglsance  o£ 
Christianised  culture, 
i.  e.  civilisation. 


Newr  discoveries  and 
colonisation 


perpetuate  different 
forms  of  government. 


European  system  the 
stronger  for  the  laclc  of 
a  written  constitution. 


Obnoxious  features  :— 
the  surveillance  of 
cabinets, 


tho  necessary  for 
maintaining 

"Balance  of 

Power." 

§160. 


Germans.  This  alleviated  form  of  ideal,  representative  and  responsible  authority  is 
preserved  no  longer,  however,  than  to  the  time  when  the  spirit  of  oriental  monarch- 
ism,  to  which  Rome  and  Byzantium  in  their  weak  old  age  had  given  themselves  up, 
is  slowly  introduced  and  adopted  by  the  Germanic  nations  in  the  measure  tliey  be- 
come Romanised.  The  diversity  and  strength  of  single  personages  is  supplanted  by 
the  units  of  states,  developing  their  increase  of  power,  as  we  have  seen,  under  the 
dominant  maxim  of  oneness.  The  Romanised  monarchies  were  the  first  to  shape 
themselves  according  to  papal  designs,  and  to  occupy  their  place  in  that  formation  of 
politics  which  rested  upon  a  somewhat  screened  world-consciou«ness,  but  open 
worldliness. 

The  Germanic  monarchies  withstood  the  encroachment  of  orientalism  for  a  very 
long  period,  until  their  very  opposition  caused  the  overthrow  of  German  imperialism. 
Thus  Germany  arrived  at  the  period  of  reaction  which  now  engages  our  observation. 

It  was  in  the  extension  of  the  Turanian  power  into  Europe,  the  formation  of  the 
Turkish  empire,  which  compelled  Christendom  to  unite  upon  the  defensive.  And,  be- 
sides, the  discovery  induced  the  nations  to  adjust  the  common  interests  sequent  to 
maritime  enterprises.  This  solidarity  of  interests  promoted  the  formation  of  the 
European  system  of  state-polity.  The  peculiarity  of  this  order  of  things  rested  upon 
the  mutual  acknowledgment  of  the  independence  and  sovereignty  of  each  constitu- 
ent part. 

This  was  to  history  a  new  phenomenon,  since  no  part  of  the  world  had  ever  enjoyed 
political  relations  of  this  kind,  which  in  Asia,  at  any  rate  were  impossible.  The  ba- 
sis of  this  system  was  given  in  the  essential  unity  of  religion— of  reformed  religion 
which  holds  diversity  in  unity— as  underlying  the  common  cognitions  of  juridical 
principles  which  generated  an  approximate  conformity  of  political  arrangements. 

The  difficulty  was  that  measures  of  this  kind  could  be  carried  out  in  no  other  way  than 
by  the  secret  diplomacy  of  cabinets  intriguing  one  against  the  other,  also  a  new  phenome- 
non IN  HISTOBY.  The  reason  that  affairs  were  unmanageable  otherwise,  is  simply  because  the 
members  of  the  European  organism  were  monarchical  courts,  mistrusting  and  at  the  same 
time  emulating  each  other.  To  act  in  concert  for  the  welfare  of  humanity  was  out  of  the 
question.  Nevertheless  all  went  well  enough  considering  the  circumstances.  Altho  a  formal 
contract  was  never  drawn  up  which  would  have  bound  the  states  to  respect  the  rights  of  rival 
states;  or  by  which  the  security  of  each  was  warranted  and  the  mutual  relations  were  regu- 
lated, yet  the  course  of  events  itself  procured  the  necessary  equation,  since  a  new  thought 
struck  Hugo  Grotius. 

"International  Right"  was  the  spontaneous  product  of  progressive  civilisa- 
tion by  which  the  governments  were  compelled  to  recognise  and  protect  the  histori- 
cal legitimacy  of  the  particular  states.  International  right  was  repeatedly  violated 
yet  it  always  received  the  renewed  sanction  of  common  consent.  Aside  from  that 
equity  agreed  upon  by  public  opinion,  all  states  had  eventually  to  submit  to  a  general 
recognition  of  Christian  morality  as  the  basis  of  a  good  understanding  in  which  mi- 
nor difläculties  were  liquidated.  Custom  as  fixed  in  a  code  of  burdensome  conven- 
tionalities generally  becomes  tyrannical  on  account  of  the  cavil  and  censoriousness 
which  it  generates.  Nevertheless,  these  conventionalities  were  on  the  whole  not  less 
conducive  to  the  retention  of  selfrespect  and  considerateness  as  to  the  freedom  of 
others,  than  to  the  cultivation  of  dignity  and  refinement. 

Thus  a  group  of  states  spontaneously  organised  itself— the  more  cohesive  for  the 
lack  of  a  written  constitution— which  we  may  designate  as  the  European  system.  On 
account  of  the  continuance  of  new  discoveries  and  colonial  acquisitions  the  prestige 
of  this  system  was  soon  recognised  the  world  over  in  its  universal  importance.  The 
power  of  the  old  Asiatic  empires  in  their  isolation— as  for  instance  that  of  Persia  un- 
der its  sofis,  of  India  under  its  moguls,  of  China,  etc.— was  completely  overshadowed 
by  the  European  system.  The  nature  of  its  unity  permitted  the  continuance  of  a 
great  diversity  of  civil  authorities:  such  as  the  hereditary  monarchies,  the  aristocrat- 
ic form  of  government  in  Venice,  and  the  democratic  in  the  Swiss  cantons.  This  di- 
versity did  strengthen,  rather  than  weaken,  the  European  combination. 

The  secrecy  of  the  cabinets  was  the  only  obnoxious  feature  of  this  system.  But  there 
was  no  other  mode  of  managing  the  "balance  of  power"  to  be  invented,  especially  since  the 
Machiavellian  doctrines  had  been  promulgated,  which,  under  pretense  of  being  guaranties  of 
sreneral  prosperity,  had  different  ends  in  view.    Richelieu  planned  the  aggrandisement  of  the 


II  G.  CH.  Vm.  §  183.  BALANCE  OF  POWER— RISE  OF  MILITARISMo  337^ 

state  in  order  to  secure  the  perpetuity  of  absolute  mouarehism  under  the  predominance  of 
ecclesiastical  unity.  This  plainly  was  the  way  he  understood  and  tried  to  utilise  Sully's 
humane  idea. 

It  was  well  that  Richelieu  could  not  succeed.    For  after  the  Thirty  Years  War  Machiavellian 
the  shrewd  devices  to  eternalise  Roman  supremacy  were  foiled  through  the  polity  of  off^by^the^**^^^ 
William  II  of  Orange.      Under  the  auspices  of  the  Reformed  nations  of  England  and  reaction  of 
Holland,  William  organised  the  first  league  for  the  purpose  of  holding  France  and  nations.  William 
Spain  in  check.     The  practice  of  balancing  the  powers  of  Europe  was,  therefore,  not  simply  ^^'  ^^  Orange. 
the  invention  of  Machiavelli,  but  the  outcome  of  Protestant  self-protection  against  Roman  cun-  "g"'!f "j^"^*  transactions 

||]||or  reconstruction  of 

"      »•  financial  methods. 

Cabinet  polity  could  not  succeed  in  baulking  the  destinies  of  Europe  for  the  sake 
of  small,  mean  ends.  Many  other  factors  in  public  life  were  to  assist  in  shaping  the 
character  of  the  two  succeeding  centuries,  and  to  shape  it  differently  from  that  which 
the  counter-reformation  had  tried  to  impose  upon  Europe. 

Foremost  of  all  the  improved  methods  of  balancing  was  the  new  financial 
system,  the  outgrowth  of  vastly  increasing  mercantile  transactions.  It  seemed  as  if 
it  had  become  the  chief  object  of  political  economy  to  accumulate  money.  Factories 
were  privileged  to  monopolise  the  industries;  imports  and  exports  were  rendered 
difficult  by  tariffs  which  sometimes  were  almost  prohibitory.  Jealous  of  one  another, 
the  states  tried  to  keep  capital  each  within  its  own  sphere  of  interest.  Soon  it  be-  **"'**'"''""• 
came  obvious  how  much  of  the  strained  relations  was  due  to  economic  selfishness, 
and  to  what  extent  the  luxury  of  standing  armies  and  the  preponderance  of  mili- 
tarism was  to  be  traced  to  cosmopolitan  financeering.  But  under  the  circumstances 
all  these  developments  conditioned  upon  each  other  were  beneficial  in  their  effects. 

The  nobility,  for  instance,  had  become  degraded  to  parasitical  existence  at  the  courts.  Different  department« 
The  "free  lords"  had  lost  their  respectability  to  such  a  degree  that  the  Spanish  grandees  funcWon"!"*'* 
took  no  longer  any  pride  in  being  followed  by  large  retinues  of  hidalgoes.  The  barons  found 
that  it  did  not  pay  to  strut  abouWn  search  of  martial  employment.     The  rulers— instead  of 
bothering  with  enlisted  volunteers,  who  would  stand  out  on  strike  at  the  instant  when  delay 
was  most  precarious— drafted  the  recruits  for  military  service  from  the  youth  of  their  nations, 
putting  all  ranks  of  citizenship  under  equal  obligation  in  the  defence  of  their  own  homes,  and  empioymenTtlfthr  "** 
giving  opportunities  to  the  impoverished  "notables"  to  enter  courses  of  orderly  life  and  reg-  declining  nobility. 
ular  habits  in  the  pay  and  interest  of  monarchism.    Thus  an  affluence  of  fighting  propensi-  Christianity  was  to 
ties  found  engagement,  much  to  the  advantage  of  order  and  tranquillity.  The  new  state,  then,  carry  out  th«  thought  of 

-  ,  ,,    ,.^  .  ,,  „,..  .  ,         r,  .,.,..,    an.organised  humanity. 

rested  upon  three  well  differentiated  departments  of  administration;— the  financial,  judicial 
and  military. 

§  183.    The  ancient  world  consisted  of  unconnected  nationalities.    Christianity 
was  to  carry  out  the  thought  of  an  organised,  humanity.    The  Roman  hierarchy  de-  Rome  feii  back  upon  a 
formed  this  thought  by  falling  back  upon  the  mechanical,  world-embracing  theoc-  *^^*'*"^*'^y- 
racy.       The  maintenance  of  national  rights  and  peculiarities  was  thereby  discour-  SplTur^o'tTe Sons'* 
aged.  Protestantism  repristinates  the  natural  and  historical  rights  of  the  individual  J^l^vldJaf s!a"t^s'!'°'  °' 
nations,  and,  upon  ethical  axioms,  brings  about  organic  interrelations  in  the  interests 
of  humanity  as  a  whole,  without  forgetting  that  an  accentuation  of  the  principle  of 
nationality  is  a  remnant  of  barbarian  clannishness. 

To  the  German  empire,  suffering  most  under  this  clannishness,  another  lease  of  pro-  German  clannishness 
longed  existence  had  been  granted,  not,  indeed,  as  a  power,  but  from  sheer  political  necessity ; 
for  the  integrity  of  its  geographical  boundaries  was  to  guarantee  the  common  interests  of  the 
governments,  if  there  were  to  be  any  concert  in  commerce,  and  hope  for  revenues.    The  parts 
of  the  German  empire  were  so  loosely  connected,  that  despite  the  measures  of  Maximilian  I 
in  creating  national  judicatories  intended  to  secure  internal  tranquility— a  closer  union  and 
firmer  legislation  could  not  be  established.    Particularism  and  clannish  jealousies  obstructed 
the  advance  and  order  of  the  whole.    The  members  of  the  German  system  were  not  kept 
together  by  common  patriotism,  so  that  in  its  external  relations  Germany  had  entirely  lost  state" foiied^by^t^*** 
its  prestige.     What  kept  the  nation  together  was  merely  the  ideal  conviction  that  it  must  Habsburg  dynasty. 
uphold  a  kind   of  union  in  behalf  of  the  European  system.    Altho  Scandinavia  and  France 
disregarded  the  import  of  this  sentiment,  it  was  instinctively  felt  by  them  as  well.    Hence  the 
dismemberment  of  the  German  confederacy  without  a  constitution  was  not  insisted  upon ;  the 
envious  neighbors  were  satisfied  with  having  humiliated  the  house  of  Habsburg- Lorraine 
into  political  insignificance. 

Under  such  circumstances  and  in  this  manner  Germany  served  in  neutralising,  westphaiian  peace  did 
or  at  least  mitigating,  all  the  contrasts  entering  its  borders  on  every  side.     Occupied  "otfedera^  but  ^'™'"^ 
with  this  business  of  poising  the  polarities  which  agitated  the  incipient  organism  of  prepoidlr^ctr**'"^ 
Europe,  Germany  was  in  position  to  provide  for  itself  a  constant  and  profound,  the 


338^ 


Germany  poising 
national  polarities, 
cultivating  the  idea  of 
interstate  relationship, 


and  international 
culture ; 


resisting  the 
establishment  of  a 
Roman  world-monarchy 
upon  oriental  premises. 


Congress  of  Vienna. 


Precepts  of  Christian 
ethics  the  foundation  for 
a  brotherhood  of 
European  nations. 


'Holy  Alliance."    §  184. 


Not  the  pope  but 
the  princes 
advancing 
civilisation. 


'■Legitimacy''  held  out 
to  the  rulers  by 
Talleyrand.      Tbkischkk. 


Monarchies  as  yet 
indispensable  for 
Europe  in  the  face  of  the 

growth  of  the 
money  power. 


Corruptive  influences  of 
capital,  making  and 
unmaking  legislatures, 


provoking  political 
upheavals. 


Dutiful  monarchs. 


"HOLT  ALLIANCE".     GROWTH  OF  THE  MONEY  POWER.       II  G.  Ch.  VIII.  §  183. 

slow  and  unostentatious  advance.  Above  all  it  worked  out  the  postulate  of  a  moral 
relationship  between  not  only  its  own  but  all  other  states  and  all  grades  of  culture. 
Just  as  the  Christian  thought  had  emancipated  itself  in  this  heart  of  Europe,  so  the 
demand  for  a  general  approach  to  genuine  civilisation  was  ever  and  again  held  forth 
by  the  Germanic  peoples.  This  demand  was  set  up  in  the  form  of  a  counter-claim  or 
cross-action  on  the  part  of  Protestantism,  in  the  reaction  against  the  last  forcible 
attempt  to  establish  a  world-monarchy  in  Europe  on  the  pagan  principles  of  Asia.  It 
proclaimed  the  right  of  "the"  true  man  to  redeem  the  world  of  nature-bound  human- 
ity, and  it  announced  a  meeting  under  the  Cross. 

It  was  this  cross-action  which  brought  about  not  only  the  policy  of  balance  of 
power,  and  the  international  law  for  the  protection  of  weak  states;  which  created  not 
only  a  diplomacy  of  non-interference  or  neutrality;  but  which  also  brought  to  ma- 
turity something  new  in  answer  to  the  schemes  of  would-be  founders  of  a  modern 
world-empire. 

The  Congress  of  Vienna  had  raised  the  issue,  that  interstate  relations  can  not  be 
based  merely  upon  the  idea  of  the  balance  of  power,  but  must  rest  upon  principles  of 
common  justice  and  of  equity.  Still  loftier  maxims  had  been  proposed  by  the  three 
allied  emperors  in  their  exchange  of  views  at  Paris.  Henceforth  the  precepts  of 
Christian  ethics  should  animate  the  governments  of  the  European  system:  righteous- 
ness and  love  should  be  applied  in  internal  and  external  affairs  of  state.  "The  subjects 
of  all  Christian  rulers  should  assist  each  other  in  all  cases."  Now  the  "Holy  Alliance" 
was  formally  resolved  upon,  not  as  an  experiment  of  monarchical  diplomacy,  but  as 
the  result  of  grave  experiences  through  which  humanity  had  passed.  It  was  solemnly 
recognised  that  Christian  thought  was  to  maintain  public  order  and  perpetuate 
national  welfare;  that  the  Savior  of  the  world  was  the  sole  ruler  of  the  peoples,  and 
that  the  princes  as  His  vassals  were  appointed  to  conduct  the  secular  administration 
of  His  Kingdom  and  of  His  right  upon  earth.  Not  the  pope  but  the  princes  advanced  the 
thought  of  humanism  which  thus  entered  into  a  new  phase  of  practical  realisation. 

The  secret  source  of  the  slurs  heaped  upon  this  "holy  alliance"  is  easily  to  be  dis- 
cerned; its  beneflcient  effects  were  palpable,  nevertheless. 

Treischke  in  speaking  of  Talleyrand  says,  that  this  politician  gladdened  the  perplexed 
adherents  of  dynastic  diplomacy  by  inventing  the  very  opportune  term  of  "legitimacy." 
This  parole,  notwithstanding  the  abuse  to  which  monarchical  absolutism  may  subject  it, 
expresses  a  deep  conviction  of  the  necessity  of  rights  as  to  their  bearing  upon  historical 
evolution.  If  nothing  but  this  general  consciousness  had  resulted  from  the  deliberations  at 
Vienna  in  1814,  that  much  derided  congress  would  be  worthy  of  high  esteem.  For  the  acknowl- 
edgement of  the  hereditary  rights  of  princes  includes  the  old  German  view  of  the  right  into 
which  every  person  is  born,  and  the  righ-t  of  nations  to  claim  their  own  princes  against 
usurpers  trying  to  subjugate  them  under  foreign  yokes.  These  rights  alone  pledge  the 
security  of  normal  development,  whose  great  value  will  come  to  evidence  in  the  stormy 
times  approaching. 

Be  it  granted  that  we  are  as  yet  engaged  in  gradually  abolishing  mediaeval  forms 
in  order  to  make  room  for  a  rearrangement  of  social  relations,  of  which,  however, 
scarcely  some  dim  outlines  are  conceivable;  so  much  is  certain,  nevertheless,  that 
Europe  cannot  as  yet  abandon  its  hereditary  monarchies,  constitutionally  limited  as 
they  are.  Least  of  all  can  they  be  dispensed  with  at  present,  in  sight  of  the  rapidly 
growing  power  of  capital. 

Nothing  works  with  less  mercy  than  cold  cash.  In  its  adhesiveness  capital  drifts  to 
create  oppressive  rings  and  oligarchies,  playing  the  role  of  the  despot  who  puts  the  iron  collar 
upon  the  weak  protest  of  human  emotions.  The  money-aristocracy  will  crown  its  syco- 
phants, and  put  its  puppets  upon  thrones— provided  there  are  profits  in  it ;  bare  of  patriotism 
it  will  also  dethrone  them  again,  if  thereby  the  courses  at  the  bourses  can  be  advanced.  It  will 
corrupt  juries  and  "water"  elections,  buy  up  legislatures  and  senates  "dirt-cheap,"  and  make 
presidents— according  to  the  prospects  of  increasing  dividends  and  percentages.  Future 
formations  of  this  kind  will  of  course  resemble  but  alluviations  of  slippery  loam,  accumula- 
tions of  drift-sand.  The  masses  of  the  people  will  come  to  see  that  gold  thus  abused  is  poor 
manure,  after  all,  and  will  treat  mammon  as  the  debris  of  capsised  fortunes  and  as  the 
nuisance  of  civilisation. 

When  this  money  power  subsides  nothing  will  be  more  popular  than  the  old  legitimate 
dynasties,  provided  their  scions  have  not  forfeited  the  respect  of  the  nations,  and  are  equal  to 
the  occasion  in  stemming  the  tide  of  anarchism.  They  will  then  be  esteemed  as  the  reliable 
joists  in  the  national  structure,  as  the  standards  and  safe-guards  of  law  and  order.  They 
will  represent  the  continuity  of  true  historical  development  and  will  afford  nuclei  for  the 
rational  advance  of  civilised  freedom  for  centuries  to  come. 


n  G.  CH.  Vni.  §  184.  CONSTITUTIONAL  MONARCHISM.  339 

Legitimate  princes,  as  the  last  resort,  cannot  be  supplanted  by  any  system  of  rad-  'STsmÄ/lione 
icalism;  for  they  alone  symbolise  the  community  of  interest.    If  at  all  conscious  of  commuSityÄtere.tej; 
the  responsibilities  resting  upon  them  by  virtue  of  their  position,  they  will  in  an 
exemplary  mode  personify  loyalty  to  the  fundamental  principles  of  their  respective 
ii'ational  constitutions  and  to  their  oaths  of  office:  personify  fidelity,  merit,  and  public-  conÄwhicÄ'der 
mindedness.     In  case  Europe— from  misapprehending  the  value  of  such  ideal  and  "'^  "^^'"'^  "»secure. 
indispensable  sureties  of  national  prosperity,  and  discarding  the  moral  and  practical 
bearings  of  legitimate  leadership— should  sever  the  ties  of  the  continuity  of  histori- 
cal development,  it  may,  nevertheless,  indulge  the  prospect  of  enterprise  and  success;  Nervousness  of 
but  future  formations  of  social  arrangements   would  assume  the  nature  of  the  m^ä^uIJpTJ^sant 
dunes  on  the  ocean-shore,  rendering  public  afEairs  fidgety  and  private  life  insecure  feaj,"re  of 
under  the  changing  hazards  of  arbitrary  experimenting;  causing  that  nervousness  republ?es. 
which  is  the  most  unpleasant  feature  of  modern  republics.    Political  organisms  of 
that  class  can  never  be  as  satisfactory  as  national  kingdoms  built  upon  solid  strata 
of  moral  granite. 

§  184.    The  ideal  of  the  "holy  alliance"  had  been  formulated.    The  princes  of  the  ?n theHolrAi^aöc"'?' 
congress  had  in  concert  promised  the  European  nations,  their  loyal  subjects,  to  inau- 
gurate a  new  order  of  things  upon  repristinated  principles  of  objective  justice  and 
Christian  sociology.    But  the  august  thought,revived  under  the  appalling  experiences 
of  divine  judgments,  and  underlying  the  good  resolutions,80on  had  to  encounter  the  SuifÄÄumnfating 
reserve  and  resentment  of  cabinet  diplomacy,  the  earthly  alloy  of  the  new  instru-  Äl'erJTs'toproiong 
ment.    It  was  only  utilised  in  the  prolongation  of  the  accustomed  routine  of  running  **^'"^*  '"'*■ 
the  governmental  machine.    The  Austrian  school  of  statesmanship  could  conceive  of  "' fhTpubatSpen''*'* 
no  other  pledge  for  the  safety  of  throne  and  altar  and  for  the  proper  order  of  political 
affairs  in  general. 

Now  the  voice  of  patriotic  journalism  ventured  to  make  itself  heard,  criticising  Ponty  of 
the  men  of  the  "reaction"  in  their  efforts  to  f  ustrate  the  fulfillment  of  the  royal  promises  F ui'mpntÄjjLI 
and  stifle  the  clamor  of  the  liberals  who  had  been  foremost  in  the  enthusiasm  against  ^'°'""*' 
the  Corsican  tyrant.    Mistrust,  impatience,  and  preposterousness  vitiated  the  just 
demands  for  constitutional  reforms,  whilst  the  governments  on  their  part  deemed 
themselves  justified  in  falling  back  on  retrogressive  measures,  lest  Parisian  radicalism 
might  renew  the  turmoil  cm  a  still  larger  scale.    The  means  for  adjustment  could 
indeed  be  derived  only  from  the  political  situation  in  general,  and  this  was  made  the 
subterfuge  f^r  a  polity  of  procrastination,  since  the  cabinets  had  cause  to  be  alarmed, 
lest  by  granting  liberties,  they  would  lose  their  authority. 

We    cannot    be   astonished    that    such    distrustful     considerations     caused    to  some  ideas  of  corporative 
extent,    the   misapprehensions   of  both,   rulers  and    subjects,   so   that  the  lofty  intentions  ^orae!'J)nce°represse(l 
of  the  emperors,  sneered  at  by  the  hierarchy  and  mutilated  by  the  agitators  of  discontent,   W  Jesuitical  absolutism, 

iiii>irr,i-ii>i  1  '*  '^"'^'^  again  put  to 

could  not  be  realised.  The  right  of  the  peoples  to  corporate  representation  had  been  repressed   oblivion 

by  the  Jesuitical  absolutism  of  Louis  XIV  and  Frederick  the  Great.  It  is  notorious  how  Louis 

treated  the  representatives  of  the  nation.    The  emperors  were  sincere  in  restoring  these 

rights,  but  the  councilors  reminded  them  of  the  treatment  which  the  daughter  of  Austria 

together  with  Louis  XVI  had  received  and  the  rights  that  had  been  grossly  abused.    Hence, 

whoever  now  reminded  the  men  in  power  of  the  recent  solemn  vows,  became  suspect  of  being  a 

rebel,  and  petitions  to  that  eifect  were  den  led.    The  Germanic  view  of  human  rights  and  royal 

duties  had  passed  into  oblivion.    Metternich's  soliloquy  characterises  the  onesided  and  stub-  ^v  Mettemich's 

born  adherence  to  a  nugatory  and  evasive  polity  of  state.  He  poses  on  his  prognostic  sagacity,  promises  and\o  the'^* 

"I  look  over  a  much  broader  domain  of  statesmanship  than  other  diplomats  do.    I  cannot  rights  of  subjects. 

refrain  from  saying  to  myself  twenty  times  a  day :    Good  God,  how  far  am  I  in  the  right  and 

how  far  have  the  others  gone  wrong!     How  very  easy   is  it  not  tho,  to  find  the  plain,  and 

simple,  and  natural  right!  " 

This  displays  a  marvelous  talent  indeed.  It  explains  why  not  one  of  the  deepest  prob- 
lems agitating  humanity  could  attract  or  move  him.  The  lever  of  his  political  wisdom,  of  his 
craftiness  in  forming  treaties,  and  inventing  police-measures,  was  nothing  but  the  fear  of  the 
revolution,  which  he  seemed  to  smell  everywhere.  His  executive  ability  consisted  in  nothing 
but  gagging  public  utterances,  and  in  the  routine  of  fettering  liberalism  hand  and  foot.  He  "  '°^  *^^'°°Mackwto«. 
would  not  see  that  the  promised  reforms  alone  could  alleviate  the  difficulties,  and  that  a 
return  to  old  Germanic  royalism  and  to  representative  government  alone  could  restore  the 
faith  in  the  good  intentions  recently  formed  under  the  pressure  of  the  Napoleonic  sera. 

Thus  the  Holy  Alliance  had  been  lowered   to   the  superintendency  of  the  police  and  ««censure  of  the  press" 
the  gens  d'armes.    Mackintosh  cried  out  in  the  English  parliament  that  Croates  and  Kossacks  Gkstz. 

would  even  invade  and  invest  Hyde  Park,  if  things  going  on  in  Troppau  were  to  continue 
much  longer. 


340 


THE  HOUSE  OF  «ABSBURG  L0SE6  ITS  PRESTIGE.— METTERNICH.       II  G.  Ch.  VIII.  §  184. 


Effects  of  Austrian 
hegemony  in  the 
German  diet, 


Methods  of  muzzling 
political  agitation. 


Subjects  kept  under  awe 
of  "bureaucracy". 


Moser's  and 
Von  Stein's 
defense  of  old  German 
ideas. 


Preliminaries  of  another 
revolution  in  Austria, 
Catholics  and 

Gentz . 

notwithstanding. 


Academic  youth 
demands  unity  of  the 
nation, 

their  patriotic  zeal 
compared  to  the 
national  games  of 

MOMMSEK. 


House  of  Habsburg 
relinquished  the  crown 
of  German  imperialism, 


Enthusiasm  of  the 
academic  youth  in 
agitating  the 
regeneration  of  the 
f^erland. 


Necessities  of  the  time 
but  vaguely 
comprehended. 

E.   M.  AxMOT, 


"Censure  of  the  press,"  said  Gentz,  "is  the  supreme  law  of  European  confederacy".  Other- 
wise, he  believed  the  revolution,  like  the  shade  of  Banquo,  would  drive  the  living  from  their 
chairs.  When  Metternich  heard  of  a  publication  containing-  the  proceedings  of  representative 
citizens,  called  together  by  the  crown  in  the  capacity  of  a  mere  advisory  "Landtag",  he  called 
it  "the  greatest  of  modern  evils  in  their  daily  eruptions". 

A  few  anecdotes  of  this  sort  sufficiently  illustrate  the  spirit  of  the  latest  counter- 
action against  reforms.  Every  new  proposal  of  compromise  was  distorted  at  its  birtk 
by  the  obstinacy  of  the  advisers  of  the  "crowns",  and  by  the  acrimony,  which  the 
antagonism  against  such  annoyances  generated  among  the  people,  and  which  was 
food  to  the  radicalism  thus  ensuing.  Despite  the  caution  observed  by  the  spokesmen 
of  liberalism  in  the  communication  of  their  arguments,  they  were  branded  as  dema- 
gogues; and  in  order  to  curb  their  political  agitation  a  system  of  passports  and 
police-espionage  was  rigidly  enforced.  Instead  of  constitutions  the  countries  re- 
ceived police  ordinances,  and  the  "subjects"  (die  Unterthanen)  were  commanded  by 
every  subaltern  officer  to  wear  loyal  faces.  Thus  the  people  were  intimidated  into 
abject  submission.  In  order  to  endure  the  vexatious  feeling  of  being  governed 
without  a  murmur,  they  were  tantalised  in  general  and  in  detail. 

Even  the  smallest  states  protected  their  trade  by  different  revenue  tariffs.  The  farmers 
were  as  yet  burdened  with  tithes,  and  with "Frohndienst". that  is,  a  certain  amount  of  manual 
labor  for  "his  lordship" ;  and  new  taxes  were  laid  upon  rye,  upon  chickens,  upon  bees-wax  I 
Now  all  this  machinery  to  keep  the  subjects  under  awe  of  government  was  manipulated 
according  to  antiquated  ideas  of  class-rule  and  rank  prerogative,  only  aggravated  now 
by  the  overbearance  of  a  harsh  and  officious  "bureaucracy". 

Nevertheless,  the  high  ideal  of  liberty,  as  defined  by  evangelical  consciousness, 
had  prospects  of  recovery.  Some  remnants  of  the  old  human  rights  and  some  ideas  as 
to  the  old  form  of  Germanic  freedom  had  been  practically  preserved  in  the  rural  com- 
munities of  Westphalia,  where  Freiherr  von  Stein  studied  up  the  matter;  besides 
that  which  he  had  learned  from  von  Moser. 

"It  grows  darker  upon  earth,  and  people  become  more  wild  and  radical — a  war  of  all 
against  all  has  begun  which  can  be  terminated  in  no  other  way  than  by  the  thunderings  from 
above  and  by  quakings  of  the  earth  below".  Gentz  said  this  when  for  the  safety  of  his  own 
policy  and  that  of  others  such  utterances  came  much  too  late,  even  in  Austria. 

The  academic  youth  of  Germany  prepared  himself  to  regain  what  had  been  squand- 
ered: the  unity  of  the  nation  against  which  the  pope-ridden  cabinet  at  Vienna  had 
ever  conspired.  That  aspiration  grew  and  assumed  the  fervor  and  form  of  Hellen- 
istic patriotism  in  its  prime. 

Whenever  in  ancient  Greece  nuclei  of  national  unification  formed  themselves,  they  did 
not  grow  directly  from  political  ambitions,  observed  Mommsen.  They  were  the  products  of 
the  national  games,  arts,  and  arenas.  Upon  the  streets  of  Olympia  there  stood,  as  late  as 
Nero's  time,  the  statues  of  more  than  three  hundred  champions,  every  one  of  whom  had  con- 
tested for  the  crown  of  laurel,  or  for  the  distinction  of  being  decorated  with  a  twig  of  the 
pine  tree.  Historical  anniversaries  were  celebrated  on  these  occasions,  by  the  representatives 
of  every  Greek  village  in  the  largest  gatherings  of  this  kind  ever  witnessed  by  history. 

Nothing  can  be  more  descriptive  of  this  phase  of  German  development  than  a 
parallel  with  this  feature  of  Hellenistic  patriotism  and  ambition.  The  House  of  Habs- 
burg  had  rid  itself  of  imperial  responsibility  when  it  relinquished  the  crown  of  the 
"Holy  Roman  Empire  of  the  German  nation,"  without  however  giving  up  its  preten- 
sions, to  the  control  of  affairs  in  modern  Germany.  In  answer  to  this  sumptuousness 
and  with  an  enthusiasm  tantamount  to  that  of  the  Hellenes,  the  students  of  the  uni- 
versities agitated  the  regeneration  of  the  fatherland.  They  were  the  men  versed  in  the 
classics,  who  made  the  first  attempts  to  unify  the  Germans  into  a  national  organism 
after  the  mediaeval  empire  had  gone  to  its  final  rest.  The  thought  of  unity  in  diver- 
sity sprouted  in  literary  circles  and  took  root  in  festive  reunions  of  singers,  turners, 
marksmen,  etc.,  but  it  took  a  long  time  of  yearning  before  fruits  made  their  appear- 
ance. Tho  slow  and  harmless,  yet  the  movement  went  on  with  perseverance 
enough  to  disturb  the  statesmen  of  the  old  school  in  their  sleep. 

Many  were  the  playful  demonstrations  of  those  enthusiastic  and  often  fantastic  social 
gatherings;  but  very  small  was  the  number  of  those  who,  like  brave  Moritz  Arndt,  possessed 
a  clear  view  of  genuine  Germanic  freedom,  and  who  gave  vent  to  the  scorn  against  "French 
freedom"  in  which  the  youth  of  the  historic  school,  and  finally  "Jung-Deutschland"  in  its 
entirety  participated.  "A  person  must  be  free.  But  if  sticks  and  stones,  meadows  and  moun- 
tains change  hands  as  fast  as  feathers  are  driven  by  the  wind,  if  that  which  ought  to  be  most 


n  G.  Ch.  IX.  §  185.    INQUIBY  AS  TO  THE  STRUCTURE  OF  THE  HUMAN  BEING.  34l' 

firm  is  rendered  frail,  then  not  real  estate  even  will  remain  reliable  security  for  a  human-like  indignation  over  the 
existence;  legislation  should  protect  the  possession  of  the  ground  as  immutable  a  basis  for  a  decline  of  tiie  middle 
well-to-do  middle  class  and  a  frugal  living-,  as.the  old  mountains  which  God  made.    The  two  and  artisansf'^*'^'*"'*' 
classes  of  citizens  which  best  preserve  the  stamina  of  a  nation  are  the  farmers  in  the  country 
and  the  artisans  in  the  towns.    But  these  must  of  necessity  lose  their  foothold  and  moral,  con- 
servative import,  if  the  homesteads  are  lightly  parted  with,  if  the  guilds  are  rashly  dissolved, 
and  if  the  industry  in  large  factories  is  left  without  restriction  to  break  up  all  the  dignity  and 
discipline  of  the  guilds  of  old.  An  age  like  ours,  seized  with  a  delirium  of  liberalism,  cannot  be 
reminded  emphatically  enough  of  the  truth  that  not  all  is  freedom  which  assumes  its  name  or 
its  attitude." 

Thus  Arndt  poured  out  his  indignation  upon  the  Manchestrian  theory  of  national  econ-  Denouncing 
omy.    He  prognosticated  how,  through  the  continual  division  of  landed  possessions  into  small  sham-liberalism, 
parcels,  the  farming  populace  would  be  impoverished,  and  the  middle-class  destroyed,  and  Manchesterian 
the  lands  pass  into  the  possession  of  jobbers  and  Jews.    Arndt's  exclamations  implied  rem-  economies, 
nants  of  theRomantic  school,  but  it  was  the  Romanticism  "in  the  serene  light  of  a  good  day's  Arndt. 

work"  which  acknowledges,  as  Arndt  did,  "how  dangerous  it  is  for  manliness  and  virtue  to  ^?^***'*  f'i"°*'\V*^y'"i 
grope  about  the  daily  walks  of  life  in  fantastic  twilight  of  a  fictitious  world".  His  was  not  the  Amim-Brentanos. 
the  romance  in  which  the  Brentanosand  the  Arnims  delighted  to  roam. 

In  spite  of    patriots  like  Arndt,  the  superannuated  wisdom,  which  the  cabi-  Despite  the  invasion  of 
nets  had  inherited  and  copied  frc^m  each  other,  remained  incorrigible  in  its  callous  '^hoi?  ^'iran'^ce-'f It^  *^*' 
arbitrariness.    Nevertheless,  sub'Sfequent  to  the  powerful  declaration  of  God— as  un-  chl^rTct^r  off  prophecy. 
derstood  in  the  collapse  of  that  universal  monarchy  reared  up  under  wild  ado— the  *  ^^* 

keynote  of  reaction  against  perverted  humanism  had  been  touched  by  the  "holy  alli- 
ance" of  the  princes,  which  henceforth  has  the  significance,  at  least  of  a  prophecy. 

CH.  IX.    THE  THOUGHT  OF  HUMANISM  PHILOSOPHICALLY  CONCEIVED 

AND    SOCIALLY    APPLIED.  idea  of  man 

§  185.    Once  more  we  are  compelled  to  observe  this  thought  in  its  bearing  upon  reinstatedthrough the 
modern  history.    It  is  from  a  third  aspect  that  we  have  to  examine  the  invisible  un-  ^^^^^s^^'^*'®- 
dercurrent  of  events,  as  far  as,  in  the  first  place,  the  prominent  nations  are  con-  essential 
cerned.    We  see  them  remarkably  agitated  by  the  interpretations  of  man's  being,  Reformation- 
and  by  the  persistency  in  which  each  theory  seeks  to  materialise  itself  in  the  compli-    §  109, 129,  i69,'  170. 
cations  of  civilised  life. 

The  renaissance  had  formally  reinstated  the  humanistics,  and  the  Reformation  ^^^^^^^  ^^^^  evangelical 
had  traced  man's  knowledge  of  himself  to  its  real  rootings.    Then  self  knowledge  had  ^enäerer'""'"'^'''  '*'' 
been  rendered  superficial  and  profane  to  the  extent  of  selfdelusion,  since  "enlight"  P^^/g^*^® 
enment"  had  severed  the  thought  of  humanism  from  the  correlative  truths  rediscov-  "enlightenment" 
ered  and  preserved  through  the  Reformation,  and  had  planted  the  earthly  part  thereof 
into  a  soil  full  of  wild  roots  and  seeds  of  weeds.    For  the  purpose  of  obtaining  a  thor-  Contents  of 
ough  cognition  of  human  nature  it  was  necessary  that  humanity  should  pass  through  humanity  to 
the  stage  of  its  relative  independence  wherein,  free  from  any  constraint,  human  na-  in  every  respect, 
ture  might  reveal  all  its  dispositions  and  propensities  in  every  respect.    The  reality  f^oji^'an^  ^^^^ 
of  what  is  contained  in  the  term  humanity  came  now  to  be  expounded  in  this  third  constraint, 
phase  of  the  development  through  scientific  work  and  philosophical  thought.   The      176*  197!  201!  205! 
contents  of  the  thought  were  to  be  generalised  and  reduced  to  a  monism  which  might  ^^* 

be  understood  by  everybody.    This  was  to  be  wrought  out  by  the  great  systems  of  fo°rÄl?hiio*sophy  of 
thought  called  forth  by  Romanticism,  in  the  philosophy  of  identity— so  called  for  Sfnt  monistic  ^ew 
reasons  previously  stated  with  respect  to  the  common  trend  and  the  method  of  aflSl-  °^  "*«•         *  ^^'  ^8^- 
iated  syllogising  peculiar  to  these  systems,  which  displaced  one  another  in  rapid  suc- 
cession.   With  the  alternating  theories  of  the  ideal  the  attempts  to  reorganise  social 
life  kept  pace.  We  shall  see  how,  with  equal  swiftness,  these  constructions  of  humani- 
tarian thought  were  caricatured  by  the  materialistic  world-theories. 

In  its  endeavor  to  penetrate  into  the  essence  of  things  as  to  their  origin,  value  and  pur-  ^^^^^  g^^gg^  ^f 
pose,  the  philosophy  of  the  Occident  passed  through  three  stages.     The  thinking  of  the  occidental  philosophy: 
ancients  lost  itself  in  the  world,  it  was  world-wisdom   (Weltweisheit).    Mediaeval  thinking  i.    "World-wisdom". 
formally  followed  in  its  steps,  but  exchanged  the  real  for  the  transcendental  world,  and  culti-  Classics. 

vatingthe  monastic  world-soreness,  called  itself  "learnedness  in  divinity"  (Gottesgelahrtheit).  2.    Leamedness  in 
The  philosophy  of  modern  times,  beginning  in  the  sixteenth  century,  striving  for  a  monistic  '^'^'^'♦y-         c  o  as  c». 
comprehension  of  the  human  being,  is  trying  to  simplify  man's  dual  connection  with  the 
physical  and  spiritual  spheres  of  being.    It  sets  out  with  man  as  the  proper  starting  point  for 

all  knowledge.  3.    Search  for  a 

Every  student  is  fully  aware  how  prominently  man  was  placed  in  the  center  of  JTuman  nXrli*"*''  °* 
every  disquisition,  hence  we  need  not  enlarge  much  more  upon  the  uses  and  abuses  SaterST''      §i68. 
made  of  this  premise. 


342 


ORIENTALISM  EMBODIED  IN  OCCIDENTAL  SOCIOLOGY.— SPINOZA.       II  G.  Ch.  IX.  §  185« 


Each  theory 
alternately 
attempts  to 
realise  itself  in 
reorganising 
social  life.' 

§97,143. 

Orientalism  vitiated  the 
occidental  philosophy. 
§  62.  Nl.  97,  103,  122,  126, 
137,  142,  14*.  146-150. 
Polarity  between 
oriental  and  occidental 
forms  of  consciousness 
not  so  much  of 
intellectual  as  of 
ethical  nature.    Ctbtius. 
Orientalism  imposed 
upon  Christendom   8  150. 

Avicebron. 

§  129,  130,  131. 
Maimonides 

Pico  Mirandola.        S  130. 
by  way  of  Platonism 
through 

Augustine. 

§  67,  78,  81,  87,  97, 
123, 126,  144,  160. 

and  through  the 
renaissance  by 

Nie.  Cusa 

and 

Giordano  Bruno, 

(the  satellite  of 

Wittenberg) 

Probabilism. 

§  129,  132,  163,  164. 

All  orientalism 
combined  by       Spinoza. 
<the  satellite  of  Geneva). 

Diplomatic  indifference 
to  religion. 

Boethius  §  178. 

Spinoza's  "substance"' 
but  Hindooism  pure  and 
simple  in  a  Semitic 
translation. 

Political  absolutism 
always  fond  of 
Pantheism. 

§  54.  55,  56,  58,  66,  68 
72,  78,  89,  98,  170^ 

Spinoza  in  a  clandestine 
way  the  father  of 
German  pantheism  as 
expostulated  by 
Hegelianism. 


Pantheism  always 

subsides  into 

materialism. 

The  monism  of  the  one 

gives  the  lie  to  the 

monism  of  the  other. 


Philosophy  of  identity 
revived  the  old  cognition 
of  typical  man 
representing  the 

ScHELUNe. 


Creation  the  pyramid  of 
which  man  is  the  apex, 
the  element  of  the 
truth  In       HuKUAHiSM. 


To  one  fact,  however,  too  much  overlooked  heretofore,  our  attention  is  again 
directed,  namely  that  it  was  the  oriental  form  of  consciousness  which  vitiated  mod- 
ern occidental  philosophy  and  sociology. 

Evidently  the  polarity  between  Orient  and  Occident  is  still  effective,  as  Ernst 
Curtius  once  very  pointedly  remarked:  "The  old  contrast  between  the  minds  of  Asia 
and  Europe  reaches  over  into  modern  times  with  a  far  greater  import  than  we  seem 
to  be  conscious  of."  The  cause  of  our  unconsciousness  lies  in  the  fact  that  this  con- 
trast is  conditioned  by  ethical  deviations. 

On  former  occasions  we  pointed  to  Avicebron,  the  Arab,  as  one  of  the  many  conductors 
of  oriental  thought,  and  to  Maimonides,  the  Jewish  scholar.  At  that  same  time  we  might 
have  also  considered  the  influence  of  Platonism  upon  the  renaissance,  as  formerly  allusion 
had  been  made  to  the  same  influence  upon  the  incipient  scholasticism  of  the  first  state-church. 
We  might  have  shown  how,  associated  with  this  Platonism,  Orientalism  in  general,  that  is,  as  a 
combination  of  Zoroasterianism  with  Pythagorsen  and  kabbalistic  thoughts,  was  smuggled 
into  Europe;  we  might  have  demonstrated  this  from  the  writings  of  Nicolaus  Cusa  and 
Giordano  Bruno.  Suffice  it  now  to  mention  no  one  else  but  the  Spanish  Jew  Spinoza,  in 
whom  all  oriental  pantheism  is  concentrated.  Just  as  Giordano  Bruno  was  the  satellite  of  the 
Wittenberg  movement,  so  stands  a  century  later  Spinoza  in  juxtaposition  to  the  Protestant- 
ism of  Geneva  in  the  Netherlands.  His  one  substance  of  all  things  in  Heaven  and  upon  earth 
can  tolerate  nothing  but  modifications.  That  God-substance  is  nothing  but  the  oriental 
all-one-ness  pure  and  simple,  of  whose  shifting  into  and  out  of  appearance  the  individual 
things  are  the  mere  modes ;  to  which  even  personal  life  is  related  in  no  other  way  than  drops 
are  to  the  ocean. 

It  is  but  natural  that  with  the  increasing  facilities  for  popularising  ideas, 
Spinoza's  conclusions,  or  rather  Semitic  translations  of  Brahmanism,  were  modified 
in  various  ways  and  were  recast,  until  they  could  be  rendered  useful,  in  the  first  place, 
for  the  configurations  in  state-life.  The  simplicity  of  this  form  of  thought  is  alluring, 
and  seems  sufficiently  profound  to  afford  a  basis  for  the  diplomatic  indifference 
toward  the  religious  side  of  humanism.  Repeatedly  have  we  noticed  how  natural  it 
is  for  political  absolutism  to  avail  itself  of  the  pantheistical  theories  advocating  a 
general  mechanism  of  things  in  public  and  private  life.  Pantheism  invites  despot- 
ism every  time,  whilst  despotism  in  turn,  for  good  reasons,  patronises  pantheism, 
makes  it  fashionable  and  respectable  as  the  welcome  agency  for  class-division  and 
oppression— just  as  we  witnessed  the  thralldom  created  by  Brahma-Buddhism. 

Spinoza  became,  in  a  clandestine  way,  the  father  of  German  Pantheism  as  con- 
strued by  Schelling  and  Hegel.  It  has  been  shown  that  pantheism,  whether  it  be 
scientifically  arranged  at  Benares  or  Berlin,  always  subsides  into  materialism  just 
when  it  seemed  to  have  reached  its  loftiest  climax  of  abstraction. 

This  vapid  abstractness,  resulting  from  the  effete  and  dilating  method  of  rea_ 
soning,  exhausts  thought  until  the  entity  of  things,  matters  and  facts,  until  being 
itself  is  rendered  into  nothing.  Materialism,  emphasising  that  which  the  senses 
perceive  as  something  real,  gives  the  lie  to  the  pantheistic  identity,  by  averring  that, 
on  the  contrary,  outside  of  this  something  there  is  really  nothing. 

One  thing,  however,  we  owe  to  the  philosophy  of  identity,  which  ought  not  to  be 
forgotten.  It  revived  the  old  cognition  of  the  uniqueness  of  man  as  to  his  capacity 
to  represent  cosmical  being  in  its  entirety. 

"One  who  would  write  the  history  of  his  own  life,"  says  Schelling,  "would  certainly  have  to 
reduce  thereby  the  history  of  the  universe  to  its  sum  and  substance".  Schelling  took  man  for 
the  aim  of  creation,  "since  nature's  ways  do  not  radiate  from  narrowness  into  a  wide  com- 
pass, but  concentrate  from  a  large  circumference  to  a  center".  In  this  sense  "everything  is 
for  the  sake  of  man".  He  included  the  starry  worlds  even  which  in  his  view  form  but  the 
broad  base  of  that  pyramidal  creation  of  which  man  is  the  apex.  We  know  the  bold  flight  of 
reason  by  which  Hegel  imagined  the  deity  and  the  invisible  world  as  coming  to  selfconscious- 
ness  in  the  human  mind.  Such  extravagance  cannot  enchant  us ;  but  so  much  becomes  evi- 
dent even  from  Hegel's  aberrations,  that  to  him  also  man  is  the  cosmical  center,  the  blossom 
of  the  universe.  Beyond  this  view  of  man  everything  else  becomes  to  Hegel  indistinct,  and 
vanishes',  for  everything  else  is  nothing  but  vague  being  in  the  abstract.  Man  alone  is  con- 
crete reality,  since  the  visible  world  comes  to  possess  knowledge  of  self  only  within  his  mind. 
Others  after  him  have  corroborated  this  truth  by  the  correct  conclusion,  that  without  man 
nothing  can  be  conceived  as  being  interrelated,  and  that  without  this  conception  of  relation- 
ship existence  is  practically  unthinkable,  if  not  impossible.  Our  earth  with  all  its  reality  is 
nothing  if  not  part  of  man  himself  and  not  belonging  to  him ;  whilst  the  worlds  of  the  firma- 
ment are  not  an  unessential  effervescence. 


II  G.  Ch.  IX.  I  186.     NEW  GERMAN  ANTHROPOLOGY— IDENTITY-PHILOSOPHY.  313 

In  the  ground  of  such  thoughts,  especially  as  modified  in  Schelling,  rooted  the  fjl^^e/tSlonr' 
anthropological  investigations  of  Steffens   and   Schubert,  Ennemoser  and  Fichte,  Man  the  microcosm. 
even  the  "microcosm"  of  Lotze,  notwithstanding  his  intermixture  of  heterogeneous  schubeut, 

elements.    Everywhere  the  "Ideas"  of  Herder  reappear,  that  man  is  the  consumma-  tw"!*"' 

tion  of  earthly  creation,  and  that  transition  to  the  invisible  world  of  spiritual  real-  ^lli^n 

ities  passes  through  the  dual  nature  of  the  human  being. 

Steffens  describes  the  prototype  of  man,  in  his  capacity  of  representing  the  cen-  SonTnätÄL 
ter  of  cosmical  being,  as  the  completion  of  an  infinite  past,  as  the  cardinal  pivot-  pLte'sthrougÄduai 
point  of  an  unlimited  present,  encompassing  the  entire  universe,  and  as  the  con-  °''*"'^  •**  '^'"^^ 
cealed  outset  of  an  infinite  future.    We  thus  find  the  ancient  thought  and  mediaeval  "'»i«  the  completion  o« 

°  an  infinite  past;  the 

speculation  inadvertently  coming  to  a  synthesis  again  upon  Christian  grounds.  Cos-  un'i"mited'''resenr 
mosophy  and  theosophy  coalescing  in  anthroposophy  form  so  many  steps  of  the  lad-  oranlnfinite'fu"^^'"' 
der  upon  which  the  idea  of  humanity  climbs  up  the  ascent  of  theoretical  selfcom- 

^      .  Ancient  thought  and 

prehension.  medisval  speculation 

come  to  a  synthesis 

§  186.    At  present  this  thought  is  being  elaborated  into  a  theory  of  sociology 
which  is  the  concrete  precipitate  of  its  philosophical  chemistry.    Along  with  the  socYäusm!'^"" 
theorising  about  human  personality  goes  the  practical  work  of  a  thorough  reconstruc-  Re^^it,  „^  speculation 
tion  of  society.    A  glance  upon  the  proceedings,  by  which  the  interpretation  of  hunlL^n^iai'STp/e"* 
humanistic  principles  as  manifesting  themselves  in  the  phenomena  of  the  social  themseh-eslnt'hT'^^'* 
world,  is  attempted,  brings  out  a  series  of  ideals  according  to  which  the  humanity  of  phe^onemaof  social 
the  future  is  imagined  to  organise  itself. 

How  the  ideals  thus  elicited  were  imagined  to  materialise,  was  anticipated  in  philo-  ^^?®'"|°J?'**^  *°,j 
sophical  treatises,  poetical  declamations,  in  novels,  and  chiliastic  expectations.    Think  of  the  theories  in  social 
state  of  Plato,  translated  into  Latin  by  Augustine  as  "the  State  of  God".    Think  of  Rabelais'  «constructions. 
"Gargantua".    The  wild   religio-political  experiments  of  the  anabaptists  in  Muenster  had  "State"  of  piato, 
the  same  object  in  view.    The  "Looking  Backward"  of  Bellamy,  tho  exposed  as  a  clumsy  ?.^tate  of  God"*"/^* 
plagiarism,  goes  in  proof  of  our  dogma,  that  every  theory  aims  at  substantiating  itself  in  the  Augustine. 
social  organism,  tho  it  were  but  in  the  shape  of  an  ulcer.    The  romantic  novels  in  the  inter-   "Gargantua'  of 
est  of  one  or  another  tendency,  or  in  uttterance  of  dissatisfaction  with  the  political  situ- 
ation of  their  respective  times,  belong  to  this  same  genre  of  literature.  "Kingdom  of  God''  in 

Muenster. 

All  of  these,  and  many  similar  productions,  betray  the  tendency  to  popularise  the  ...^^^^^^^  backward » 
theories  and  to  model  society  according  to  the  form  into  which  the  humanistic  idea  bellamt. 

was  cast,  that  is,  into  which  the  prevailing  public  opinion  of  each  period  had  been 
fashioned  by  leading  minds.  See  for  instance  what  an  idyllic  and  inviting  picture  of 
life  is  painted  by  Thomas  More  upon  his  newly  discovered  "Island  of  Utopia." 

The  great  chancellor  depicts  the  social  happiness  of  a  million  and  a  half  of  citizens,nicely  "utopia"of 
grouped  in  companies  of  forty  persons  each.  Everything  breathes  equality,  liberty  and  peace*  T^ox.  Moax«, 

Fifty-four  splendid  cities,  all  laid  out  with  geometrical  precision  and  of  equal  magnitude 
offer  fine  homes  for  the  dear  folks.  The  houses  are  redistributed  after  each  decade.  Govern- 
ment conducts  labor  and  is  the  wholesale  merchant,  monopolising  industry  and  commerce. 
Government  carefully  prescribes  emigration,  fashion  and  every  external  form  of  life,  private 
and  public.  Liberty  is  granted— on  paper— in  a  few  things,  where  its  exercise  can  do  no  harm ; 
for  instance,  religious  liberty.  Crimes  are  rare,  because  the  allurements  of  gold  are  pre- 
cluded, for  even  certain  vessels,  too  vulgar  to  mention,  are  made  of  gold.  In  short,  "Utopia" 
makes  no  exception  from  the  rest  of  pet  theories  in  lavishing  a  golden  hue  over  everything — 
of  which  gilding  also  the  thought  of  an  "European  republic"  partakes. 

Nobody  will  deny  that  this  idea  of  an  "European  Republic"  had  already  taken  ..Republic  of  Europe»  a 
rise  in  the  vision  of  Sully.  Of  course,  it  was  but  an  idea,  contrived,  perhaps,  to  serve  as  vissionary  project  of  J^^ 
a  catapult  against  Spanish- Austrian  schemes.       At  any  rate,  Ravaillac's  dagger  and 

^  "^  "  '  '^^  but  sincerely  thought  of 

jf  Orange. 
§  U6,  182. 

Notwithstanding  such  encrossings  of  plans,  unthought  of  in  any  Utopia,  the 
thought  of  humanism  continues  in  its  purposive  activity.    The  work  of  bringing  all  p"om\,iVtes™huuüm 
ranks  down  to  a  common  level  created  the  polity  of  equal  rights  in  1776  and  1789.        ^'^''**  a.  d.  ittb. 

It  was  during  the  prevalence  of  an  abstract  idea  about  human  rights  without  but  slights  common 
mention  of  equivalent  practical  duties,  that  the  foundations  were  laid  for  the  Man-  '^"*'*^  a.  d.  nss. 
chestrian  school  of  free  competition,  in  which  a  very  onesided  conception  of  hu- 

.,,«  „  ,  .  ..  .,.  ..  Manchester  sociology. 

manity  substantiated  itself,       for  those  doctrines  to  which  socialism  in  its  latest  ^^^y,^^^^  g^jj^^ 
form  is  directly  reducible.    Bent  on  the  leveling  of  social  standings,  France  had  dis-  "w  onnd'ustrui''^ 
persed  the  cliques  and  rings  of  the  aristocracy,  and  England  now  broke  up  the  guilds,  competition. 
once  instituted  for  the  protection  of  handicraft.    The  ground  seemed  to  be  leveled  Leveling  social  ranks. 
upon  which  society  was  to  be  reconstructed. 


344 


Free-masonry 
teorganised. 


Organised  labor. 

Fourier. 


attempts  to  harmonise 
human  passions  with 
legitimate  desires. 


IKTaiting  for  the 
capitalist  to  construct 
phalang  steres. 

Louis  Blanc's 

experiment  with 
national  workshops. 

The  Germans  render 
the  abstractions  of  the 
mind  a  basis  for  cultural 
development; 
The  Frenchman  puis  the 
•whole  man  at  stake. 
One  arrives  at  logic,  the 
other  at  socialism. 

PiKRKE  Lkboux. 

"Wealth  of  Nations'". 

Adam  Smith. 

advocate  of  free 
production  and  free 
distribution. 


The  test-question  put  to 
every  evolution  or 
revolution. 


Latest  phase  of 
socialisticexperimenting 
to  establish 

hunianitarianism  upon 
materialistic  premises. 


Solution  of  the  problem 

requires  answer  to  three 

«luestions.  L.  Stein, 

§188. 


MANCHESTRIANISM  AND  SOCIALISM. 


n  G.  Ch.  IX.  §  187. 


Problem  concentrates 
upon  us  in  full  orl) — 
solvable  by  adequate 
application  of 
humanism  in  its  dual 
aspect. 


Resources  of  capital ; 
transmarine  enterprises; 
multiply  labor. 


Mercantile  polity  of 
cabinets. 


Solidarity  of  interests. 


The  problem  of  organised  labor  began  to  engage  the  minds  of  the  social  builders  at  the 
same  time  that  Ramsey  organised  Free-masonry.  Reorganisation  of  society  and  of  labor 
became  one  of  the  chief  issues  of  the  first  revolution.  It  is  thrilling  to  contemplate  with  what 
zeal  Fourier  applied  himself  to  find  methods  and  means  for  perfecting  the  welfare  of  the 
people  by  harmonising  human  passions  with  legitimate  desires. 

Every  noon,  precisely  at  12  o'clock,  the  poor  merchant  goes  home  and  waits  for  thatca 
italist  who  is  to  advance  to  him  the  million  with  which  to  erect  the  first  phalang-stere,  that  is 
the  first  communistic  lodging-house  for  his  ouvrieurs.  Thus  he  expects  him  daily,  but  waits 
in  vain  for  years— the  rich  patriot  does  not  show  up.  Notwithstanding  the  disappointments 
the  Fouriers  addicted  themselves  to  dreams  of  organising  labor  the  world  over;  and  this 
arrangement  is  firmly  believed  to  render  life  happy  for  all  in  times  to  come.  Social  malfor- 
mations, so  it  is  syllogised,  reflect  the  malformations  of  public  life  in  general;  consequently 
the  whole  system  needs  a  radical  transformation  upon  an  entirely  new  basis.  The  content- 
ment implied  in  a  new  world-consciousness  will  extend  its  blessing  even  to  the  animal,  yea, 
to  the  inorganic  world— as  tho  the  brine  of  the  ocean  could  be  changed  into  lemonade.  The 
wealthy  patriot  never  came  forth  to  assist  in  the  work  of  reconstruction,  but  the  idea  stub- 
bornly clung  to  its  infatuated  dupes,  and  socialism  without  the  least  reluctancy  assumed  its 
position  among  the  sciences,  and  conquered  seats  of  parliaments  in  growing  numbers. 

Thus  socialism  has  become  the  science  of  that  "equality,  which  is  to  be  realised 
by  state-governments  upon  the  basis  of  the  sovereignty  of  labor  and  the  equal  distri- 
bution of  its  products.*'  This  production  is  to  be  protected  against  the  extortions  of 
capital  and  of  its  taking  advantage  of  its  dependants,  hence  the  necessity  of  trades 
unions.  The  catch-word  "organised  labor"  was  given  out  in  the  title  of  Louis  Blanc's 
work  wherein  he  denounces  competition  as  a  system  of  annihilating  the  rights  of  the 
common  people  and  of  the  consuming  public,  of  society  in  general.  He  succeeded  in 
elucidating  and  popularising  the  demand  that  the  socialistic  state  by  its  computation 
of  interests  must  repress  the  competition  of  capital. 

It  was  easier,  however,  for  Louis  Blanc  to  formulate  the  demand,  than  to  experiment 
with  his  national  workshops  in  the  Palais  Luxembourg. 

On  the  whole  we  adopt  the  truism  of  Pierre  Leroux:  "While  the  German  renders  the 
abstractions  of  the  mind  a  basis  for  cultural  development,  the  Frenchman  puts  the  whole  man 
at  stake.    Thus  the  one  arrives  at  logic,  the  other  at  sociology". 

This  sociology  immediately  sets  out  with  atomising  society.  Adam  Smith  in  his 
"Wealth  of  Nations"  was  certain  in  his  mind,  as  to  the  admirable  simplicity  with 
which  the  interests  of  all  would  harmoniously  adjust  themselves,  if  only  every  indi- 
vidual were  completely  left  to  himself  in  the  pursuit  of  his  private  happiness  by  way  of 
emancipation  and  freedom  to  go  where  he  pleased.  A  pity  that  of  this  anticipation 
the  opposite  immediately  became  apparent.  Nevertheless,  since  every  evolution  and 
revolution  stands  or  falls  with  the  question  whether  or  not  social  improvement  is 
positively  advanced  thereby,  it  behooves  humanity  to  take  up  the  social  problem, 
which  means  no  more  than  to  face  the  oldest  and,  at  the  same  time,  the  latest  problem 
of  the  world's  history. 

§  187.    This  leads  us  to  the  observation  of  our  own  age. 

The  solution  of  the  social  problem  pends  on  settling  three  questions,  as  L.  Stein 
puts  them:  First  comes  the  inquiry  as  to  what  society  is,  what  its  opposite,  and  its 
movement,  that  is:  what  is  the  constructive  principle  of  social  life.  The  true  answer 
must  be  found,  as  to  the  form  which  society,  as  in  reality  it  presents  itself,  is  to  as- 
sume, and  wherein  its  progress  consists;  that  is,  how  did  society  issue  from  history? 
Finally,  what  is  the  goal  towards  which  society  is  to  advance;  how  is  the  task  of  so- 
ciety to  be  accomplished?  These  propositions  show,  that  the  great  problem  of  hu- 
manity is  concentrating  upon  us  in  full  orb,  and  that  it  can  be  solved  only  by  the 
correct  definition  and  adequate  application  of  humanism  in  its  dual  aspect. 

It  is  obvious  that  society  as  composed  at  present  is  in  peril  of  being  crushed  by 
capital.  Whence  did  this  power  derive  its  enormity?  In  keeping  with  the  transma- 
rine activity,  developed  by  the  nations  concerned,  labor  had  multiplied.  From  the 
prerequisites  and  the  acquirements  of  this  activity  resulted,  in  the  first  place,  the 
new  policy  of  the  cabinets  and  confederations  of  independent  industrial  states.  Next 
in  order  there  sprang  up  an  acknowlegment  of  mutual  interests  with  their  contract- 
ing forces.  By  national  treaties  the  forces  of  movable  capital,  in  its  enjoyment  of 
security,  for  instance,  were  set  free  for  competition  and  combination.  Thus  we  find 
the  power  of  money  putting  its  stamp  upon  our  age. 


be  M 
he  M 

4 


n  G.  Ch.  IX.  §  187.  MONOPOLIES.  345 

The  phenomenon  is  not  new.    Our  social  condition  pretty  much  resembles  that  of  international  treaties. 
Rome  under  the  triumvirates,  in  the  accumulation  of  wealth,  at  least,  and  with  res- 
pect to  cheap  labor  which  destroys  the  middle  class.    That  ominous  hoarding  of  capital  movable,  secure. 
wealth  detrimental  to  the  less  wealthy,  to  say  nothing  of  the  unmitigated  oppres- 
sion of  the  poor,  reappears  everywhere  in  the  national  economy  of  the  present  time. 

If,  for  instance,  one  of  the  ten  rich  dukes,  or  some  one  of  the  few  other  holders  of  Eng- 
land's tenures,  is  engaged  in   ''rational  farming",  and  comes  to  the  conclusion  that  raising  present 
wool  will  pay  better  than  raising  grain,  he  will    foreclose  the  leases  of  his  tenants— whose  condition  of  the 
ancestors  tilled  the  ground  as  tenants  of  the  ancestors  of  the  lords  of  today— he  will  deprive  S^^l.^^^^fu ^^/n*^ 
droves  of  people  of  their  homes,  and  will  stock  his  lands  with  herds  of  sheep  instead.    Or  if  a  previous  to  its  decline; 
German  Jewish  baron  finds  that  investment  in  real  estate  is  more  secure  and  pays  more  inter-  }efttoh7fed"handl°wlth 
est,  he  will  take  advantage  of  financial  embarrassments,  and  buy  up  all  the  small  farms,  cheap  vtrages. 
upon  which  the  hard-working  and  very  frugal  peasants  can  scarcely  eke  out  a  living,  since 
land  had  been  repeatedly  subdivided,  and  since  the  competition  of  transmarine  countries 
had  spoiled  the  market  for  home-produce.  The  manager  of  the  new  land-complex,  the  "Herr  England's  large  land 
Guts-Inspector",  with  a  few  hired  journeymen  and  a  few  machines  will  then  realise  larger 
profits  for  the  land-proprietor  in  the  city,  than  could  be  expected  from  Northern  Pacific 
stocks  or  Bussian  state-bonds. 

These  are  no  longer  probabilities  but  facts  resulting  from  the  tendency  of  capital  p^r„,i„g  „^  ^  .^^n 
to  accumulate  in  the  hands  of  a  few  privileged  family  coteries.    It  is  true,  capital  supportTand-ownlrs 
stimulates  industry  and  agriculture  to  some  extent;  but  it  pushes  the  middle-man  to 
the  wall,  crowds  him  out  of  a  settled  existence,  and  crushes  him  down  into  the  shift- 
less mass  of  the  proletarians. 

The  same  conditions  enable  capital  to  monopolise  industry  by  setting  up  machines,  for  Manufacturing  on  a 
the  technical  improvement  of  which  the  ingenious  inventor  was  paid  a  comparatively  pal-  detrimenUo  nev?  m  ans 
try  sum ;  whilst  the  dignified  artisan  of  former  times,  the  manufacturer  on  a  small  scale,  with  of  production  in  the 
his  couple  of  "Gesellen"  and  apprentices  at  his  board  and  under  his  roof  and  discipline,     *"**^°  capital  ats. 
becomes  now  a  foreman,  at  best,  or  works  by  the  piece,  as  long  as  the  factory  receives  orders 
or  as  long  as  "the  union"  allows  him  to  work  and  earn  his  bread  from  hand  to  mouth. 

Since  steam  and  electricity  have  become  the  motors  of  traffic  and  factory,  we  can  Monopiies. 
speak  of  manufacture,  that  is,  of  handicraft,  only  in  a  very  limited  sense.  The  social 
partition  lines  of  caste-like  ranks  are  fortunately  wiped  away;  but  widening  clefts 
are  opened  between  the  two  very  antagonistic  classes.  Movable,  fidgety  and  cau- 
tious capital  has  become  the  chief  factor  in  cultural  movements.  It  enters  into 
national  relations  and  controls  even  international  negotiations.  It  assumes  the  char-  £*  he  widTwodd^***** 
acter  of  the  great  cosmopolitan— making  the  world  its  market-stand,  and  neglecting 
the  true  state  of  affairs  at  home,  which  should  receive  his  undivided  attention. 

Of  one  circumstance,  the  "upper  class,"  which  is  said  to  be  ignorant  of  "how  ciass-antagonism. 
the  other  half  lives,"  seems  still  to  be  ill-advised,  namely:  that  the  working  peo- 
ple are  making  fast  strides  in  the  improvement  of  their  intelligence.     Labor  follows 
suit  in  the  social  transformation,  and  here  is  where  the  parallel  with  Pompey's 
time  will  hold  good  no  longer.    The  "fourth  estate,"  organised  labor  in  its  opposi- 
tion against  the   monopolising  power  of  capital,  has  learned  from  its  opponent  toprovel"***"'**'^*'* 
how  to  combine  and  how  to  show  distemper,  and  it  has  become  selfish,  too,  in  a 
method,  as  a  class— as  a  majority.    The  Impoverished  class  claims  the  right  to  work  ..p„^^^  ^^^^^ ., 
for  a  living,  a  living  off  the  profits  of  labor's  production,  not  from  alms.    These  de- 
mands on  the  part  of  the  "disinherited"  are  justifiable.    Moreover,  they  learned  from 
the  higher  class  to  disregard  national  boundary  lines  and  patriotism  and  become  in- 
ternational. 

The  "International"  is  actually  but  the  reverse  side  and  consequence  of  commercial  and  Labor  learned  from ; 
financial  combines.    It  is  a  specific  growth  of  western  Europe,  and  during  the  latter  half  of  *'*^'  "    °  """^ 
our  century  has  been  pressing,  like  an  incubus,  upon  the  European  form  of  civilisation  where- 
ever  this  has  spread  its  industrial  establishments  over  the  globe. 


When  France  in  its  peculiar  way  entered  its  protest  in  the  form  of  a  just  retri-  and  to  discard 

patriotism  for  i 
"international 
federation  of  labor." 


bution  to  the  debauchery  carried  on  in  high  life,  Germany  and  the  United  States  -Snatlonli* " 


letters' 


could  not  be  diverted  from  the  normal  method  of  working  out  their  tasks.  Both 
countries  fought  for  their  national  existence,  for  those  ideal  liberties  which  the  Ger-  German  "republic  ot 
man  "Republic  of  letters"  had  cultivated  under  the  auspices  of  Klopstock,  Herder, 
Fichte,  Schleiermacher,  Claudius,  Perthes,  Stein  and  their  circles  of  staunch  Christian 
and  patriotic  friends  in  north-western  Germany.  Industrial  progress  lingered  be- 
hind until  the  last  quarter  of  our  century;  for  Germany  had  no  chance  to  recover 


346  KEVrVAL  OF  GERMAN  ENTERPRISE.  II G.  CH.  IX.  §  188. 

S![Te\'iv?blfoJl''the°"**  earlier  from  the  ravages  of  the  Thirty  Years  War:  especially  since  the  progress  of 
^unJlAhrd  in  their  development  had  been  thwarted  by  the  great  stagnation  of  its  traffic  which  had  set  in 
iBdependence:  Y/Uh  the  excluslon  of  Germany  from  the  high  seas  in  the  period  of  the  renaissance. 

German  enterprise  could  revive  only  after  the  United  States  tiad  fully  established  their  inde- 
pendence. This  made  it  possible  for  Germany  to  reenter  transmarine  relations,  and 
not  before  catholic  ^^  Intermediate  some  wholesale  exports.  Moreover,  the  exclusion  of  the  catholic  in- 
Ätn  si'dVw^  ^''^  terference  from  the  Austrian  side,  the  consolidation  of  the  North-German  union, 
Ihe"g*^eat  unpieL^'ntness  ^^^  tho  great  uupleasautuess  with  France  had  to  be  settled,  before  Germany  could  be 
settted!^""*^*  "^^  rehabilitated,  so  as  to  claim  recognition  and  its  due  share  of  the  active  and  direct 

participation  in  the  world's  transactions. 
Germany  s  growing  ^^^  Bartlo  Frere  aloue  was  aware  of  the  increasing  importance  of  Germany's 

merclLweVngageinent   iiiercautile  circumspectiou  in  foreign  ports.     He  warned  the  Londoners  not  to  de- 
siR  baktie  Frere.  gpjse  thls  modest  rlval,  when  he  prognosticated  that  sudden  advance  which  soon  after 
vindicated  the  prediction  and  surprised  the  world. 

Treaties  of  the  United  Alongf  with  these  outward  signs  of  advance  those  changes  occurred  which  were  pointed 

wlt^China^an^"^  Japan.  °^^*  ^^  partial  causes  for  demanding  the  recognition  of  the  "fourth  estate,"  and  the  adjustment 
of  matters  concerning  it.  We  mean  the  new  part  which  Germany  came  to  take  in  the  trans- 
marine relations.  Full  freedom  of  oceanic  traffic  was  secured  only  after  the  United  States 
and  Prussia  had  concluded  their  treaties  with  China  and  Japan.  And  only  now  the  power  of 
capital  had  its  free  sweep  and  started  upon  its  career,  whereby  the  laborers  in  turn  were  pro- 
voked also  to  consolidate  their  interests,  and  to  demand  a  settlement  in  full. 

S^JI^L^^of  "conquest.  "^^  ^^^  ^^^  great  war  of  free  competition  has  scarcely  begun.  But  already  Michael 

Michael  chevauer.  ChevaUcr's  appreheuslous  are  becoming  true,  that"  the  small  manufacturer  is  devoured 
by  monopolies";  and  we  must  now  add,  by  those  combinations  called  trusts,  which 
explicitly  make  it  their  business  to  annihilate  competitors  by  evading  personal  con- 
scientiousness, to  usurp  the  management  of  national  treasuries,  nunc  pro  tunc.    A 
SrÄEiresl         peculiar  combat  is  preparing,  indeed,  along  the  whole  line  of  industrial  activity,  in- 
Trusts  ternational  traffic  and  national  finance.    The  illusion  of  winning  it  by  dishonest 

strategy  or  by  main  force  will  be  fatal  to  both  combatant  parties. 

Selfsalvation  expected 

5°the*8tote°'^''*°''''**°'*  §  ■^^^*  But  how  may  matters  be  compromised  upon  the  basis  of  a  peaceable  adjust- 
ment, without  jeopardising  civilisation?  How  is  the  reckless  freedom  of  compe- 
tition to  be  checked  or  controlled?  There  is  but  one  way  to  render  the  suicidal 
steeple-chase  of  industrial  adventure  innoxious,  say  Marx,  Lasalle,  Engel,  and  some 
others  of  their  kin. 

Part  of  the  Germans-  The  state  must  be  the  employer;  from  one  central  directory  the  whole  fabric  of 

again  a  t  eorising.  productlou  Is  to  be  couducted.  The  clearances  are  to  be  distributed,  according  to  a 
sliding  scale   of  proportion,  among  all  workers,  being,  as  employes  of  the  state, 

^''^Mrr^tESeTLasaiie.  ®^^^^  ^^  TSiiik,    MsiTx  &  Co.  provldes  that  they  shall  not  be  paid  their  portion  of  the 
Singer.         '  proceeds  in  coin,  lest  another  formation  of  capitalism  and  competition  should  ensue 

teuths'rnored**"'*"*"*  °*  i^oui  such  a  wage-systcm.  To  prevent  this,  the  apportionment  of  the  profits  is  to  be 
equalised  through  a  system  of  vouchers  and  orders  by  means  of  which  every  want 
may  be  gratified. 

Thus  the  ideal  course  of  humanism  is  again  switched  off  to  run  to  the  brink  of 
the  abyss.  For  that  great  mechanism  of  the  socialistic  state  works  like  a  machine 
set  up  for  the  purpose  of  crushing  all  ideals  of  humanity,  which  can  prosper  only 

7ociafSc  state*^f^he     ^^^^^  couditlous  of  persoual  liberty.    The  truth  that  equality  and  fraternity  can 

*°*'^'^«-  result  from  free  and  benign  inclinations  alone,  and  are  to  be  practiced  from  motives 

of  general  love  toward  f ellowmen,  is  totally  ignored.  Genuine  fraternity,  springing 
from  the  recognition  of  the  divine  image  in  every  man,  is  explicitly  disavowed  in  the 
socialistic  state;  freedom  is  denied  point  blank.  But  the  bottom  fact,  the  empirical 
truth  is,  that  a  machinery  of  selfsalvation  from  common  sinfulness  cannot  be 
invented. 

If  socialism  should  ever  get  an  opportunity  to  be  at  the  helm  and  control  a  state,  its  first 
job  would  have  to  be  the  creation  of  the  requisite  personages,  that  is,  to  overhaul  the  human 
components  of  the  state  so  as  to  fit  them  for  the  new  world.  The  educational  institutions  of 
the  new  state  must  certainly  surpass  anything  undertaken  so  far  in  the  line  of  instruction. 
For  it  is  promised  that  with  the  disparity  between  rich  and  poor,  also  that  between  intelligent 
and  stupid  will  disappear.  It  is  conceded  that,  of  course,  it  will  take  the  training  of  a  few 
generations,  but  that  afterwards  accommodation  and  hereditary  law  will  accomplish  the 
rest.    Thus  a  herd  of  idiots  would  be  raised,  to  which  such  a  kind  of  development  would  be 


n  G.  Ch.  IX.  §  188.  RESPONSIBILITY  OF  THE  WEALTHY  CLASS.  347 

satisfactory,  which  takes  bestiality  as  the  standard  of  comparison.  After  that  stage  has  been  Practical  result  of 
obtained,  progress  may  consist  in  going  a  little  further  down  the  incline,  to  where  the  animal  mfsconcept\on  of 
state  of  existence  may  be  conceived  as  the  most  natural,  and  training  would  persist  in  making  humanity  '"  P];«?.«"*  . 

__,,  ,  socitiiisni,  (it  it  dia  no» 

away  with  every  trace  of  liberty  and  dignity,  until  nature  were  completely  established  in  the  consist  of  mere 
rights  which  these  "children  of  nature"  claimed  for  her.  Srto'thT""^  ""*''" 

Now,  since  for  the  sake  of  argument  it  was  conceded  that  the  animal  world  evolved  from  oT  tKrotopiasm^o 
a  single  typical  protoplasm,  it  would  follow  in  the  practical  wisdom  of  socialism,  that  the  Buddhistic  all-oneDes». 
perfection  of  evolution  would  not  have  been  reached,  unless  humanity  was  folded  together 
again  into  the  simple  moner  of  the  first  cell.  That  is,  humanity  would  return  to  the  old 
oriental  doctrine  of  all-one-ness  with  its  absorption  of  individual  life.  What  Buddhism  had 
been  striving  at,  what  Spinozism  and  Hegelianism  syllogised,  the  people  of  the  Occident 
would  then  have  practically  attained— as  an  opinion.  Following  out  the  high  sounding 
premises,  we  arrive  at  the  freezing-point  of  the  misconception  of  man  and  his  destiny. 

The  state  built  upon  such  premises  cannot  but  fail,  if  such  fundamental  errors  Aims  of  socialism. 
are  adhered  to,  as  for  instance,  that  man's  object  in  earthly  life  consists  chiefly  in 
the  gratification  of  natural  cravings,  of  sensual  appetites.  We  do  not  impugn  social- 
ism with  these  false  principles.  For  it  is  plainly  stated  that  the  collective  and  system- 
atic production  of  the  necessities  and  some  commodities  of  life  is  arranged  simply 
for  this  end:  namely,  to  assign  every  equitable  atom  of  the  state  to  its  place,  and  to 
let  it  have  all  the  usufructuary  enjoyment  obtainable  in  the  prescribed  limits  of  pro-  dolgedl"  '*"*'*'°''  '^ 
duction.    But  whilst  the  individual  is,  by  this  method,  forced  from  his  natural  and  if  "^^^",<^®  ^^  ^^ 

the  nnal  outcome 

organic  relations  of  family  and  preferable  afiinities,  and  whilst  the  toiler  is  pressed  is  candidly 
into  the  mechanism  of  cooperation  as  a  mere  thing  with  no  purpose  in  himself— the  ^^^mitted. 
question  whether  this  great  machine  or  factory  in  which  the  state,  or  whether  the 
great  army  into  which  humanity,  is  to  be  transformed ,  could  possibly  fulfill  its 
promises,  is  simply  dodged,  or  ignorance  is  pleaded,  and  absence  of  any  aim  on  the 
scope  of  future  formations  is  candidly  admitted. 

A  socialistic  state  adequate  to  present  ideas  could  be  possible  under  such  conditions  a  monistic  bMis'couid 
only :  "That  one's  occupation  would  agree  with  the  capabilities  and  inclinations  of  the  agent;  ^°^  endure, 
that  as  a  rule  the  management  of  the  mechanism  would  be  just  and  reliable,  and  that  the  conditions  under  which 
productiveness  and  the  profits  would,  on  the  whole,  be  satisfactory  to  everybody."    Taken  the  prevalence  of 

,  ,,,  .,..  ,  ,  ,.  ,,    socialism  might  become 

for  granted  that  the  socialistic  state  could  meet  all  these  requirements,  then  its  success  would  feasible. 
prove  nothing  more  than  that  its  constituent  members,  that  humanity  had  permitted  itself 
to  be  rendered  as  stupid  and  impotent  as  a  herd  of  dumb  animals. 

The  humanity  whose  interest  that  state  pretended  to  care  for  would  exist  no  InSHf  tKscT 

would  then  not  have 
mOl  e.  ceased  to  exist. 

The  blame  for  such  a  degradation,  the  possibility  of  which  is  undeniable,  would  -n^g  ^^^^^  „^  the  fiasco 
rest  with  those  who  allow  the  Germanic-Christian  civilisation  to  decline.    This  civ-  ^JlhA^warrmanrc* 
ilisation  considers  the  right  of  possessing  property  as  connected  with  special  duties  Sciin?*''''*"''^*'""**' 
appreciating  property  as  a  loan  granted  on  conditions;  as  a  fief  which  the  possessor, 
holds  in  tenure  from  the  Sovereign  Lord;  as  the  relative  good— made  good  by  its  being 
related  to  the  Supreme  Giver  through  its  proper  use.    The  grave  responsibility  of  a 
general  overthrow  would  rest  therefore  with  the  possessing  classes;  and  forced  dis- 
possession would  be  their  punishment. 

The  people  of  wealth  were  under  obligations  first;  it  accrues  to  their  misfortune  Responsibility  of  the 

"^  possessing  classes, 

that  they  forgot  their  duties.  They  ought  to  have  been  intelligent  enough  not  to 
help  in  the  disintegration  of  the  social  and  economical  institutions  by  means  of  a 
thoughtless,  heartless,  unprincipled  and  trifling  class-legislation,  according  to  a  polity 
of  go-as-you-please  expediency.  They  should  not  have  set  an  example  of  with- 
drawing from  the  influence  of  those  civilising  factors  embodied  in  the  Church, 
wherever  she  is  true  to  the  first  principles  of  ethics. 

As  it  is,  that  the  privileged  class  to  a  great  extent  assumes  the  airs  of  aristocratic  +  f    u-   th  i 

indifPerence,  it  practically  denies  what  Christianity  enjoins  upon  humanity,  denies  that  the  neglect  ot  duty  to 
ideal  good  designed  for  every  member  of  the  human  family  alike    has  been  given  into  the  ^itlont/exe^i^e  of''^ 
care  of  the  church,  which,  by  virtue  of  her  first  principle  of  reconciliation,  is  bound  to  dis-  their  intellectual  and 
countenance  every  class-distinction  and  club-churchliness.    As  it  is.  the  ruling  class,  altho  financial  superiority; 
unsuccessful  in  making  the  entire  Church  subservient  to  class- interests,   has  nevertheless  ,   ^ 

I-  1^^,  ,     •  ,  .,,,-..,         .     „    ,,%,,,  41      .      .        ,,  ^1        iLi  It    who  set  bad  examples 

brought  the  opprobrium  upon  her  that  she  did  not  fulfill  her  "mission"  among  the  "lower     by  class-legislation, 
classes.     By  transforming  "their"  church  to  a  literary  club-house    and  annexing  to  it  a 
"mission-chapel"  in  a  forsaken  region  of  the  city ;  or  into  an  apparatus  of  "money-making"  and  by  withdrawing 
for  church-purposes—and  a  little  for  humanitarian  benevolence  besides— a  would-be  aristo-  Jhe^cilmsFng^factors 
cracy  has  done  everything  to  estrange  the  "masses"  from  her  missions;  and  the  mass-meetings  embodied  in  the  church. 
for  evangelising  the  fashionable  churches  and  the  masses  at  the  same  time,  cannot  repair  the 
25 


34» 


READJUSTMENT :     GERMANIC  COGNITION  OF  GOVERNMENT.     II  G.  Ch.  IX.  §  188. 


The  part  the  Church  division  of  the  protestant  denominations  into  social  clubs.  As  long  as  the  Church  is  separated 

should  take  in  mitigating  from  the  world  on  lines  of  moneyprestige,  SO  long  will  the  poor  suspect  ''missions"  as  traps 

the  social  troubles,  with  ^.        ^,      ...      ^,                               ^  t-            b                     b                       x-                   *-                                                         »- 

reference  to  the  solution  set  for  their  SUDjection. 

of  the  third  question  ^^^  Accoidiiig  to  all  Indicatioiis  a  rearrangement  of  political  economy  in  line  with 


Rearrangement  of 
political  economy  an 
urgent  necessity. 


In  the  state  of  the 
former  times,  subjects 
existed  for  the  sake  of 
rank,  and  j^eople 
of  rank  for  the  sake  of 
hereditary  monarchism 


In  the  social-political 
state  with  representative 
government  for  tlie 
sake  of  the 

public  welfare 

all  officers  are  public 
servants  doing  their 
duty  according  to  a 
constitution  comprising 
the  old  Germanic 
conception  of  right 


without  discharge  of 
specific  duties. 

Not  even  governments 
based  upon  election  by 
majorities  satisfactory, 
unless  the  maxim  is 
obst-rved  that  "to  rule 
means  to  serve.'* 


the  altered  conditions  of  industry  and  commerce  is  inevitable,  is  to  be  expected;  the 
necessity  of  adjusting  the  disrupted  concept  of  humanism  is,  therefore,  a  matter  of 
historical  sequel;  and  no  other,  no  external  contrivance  at  such  adjustment  can  have 
the  desired  effect  upon  social  reform. 

Obligation  of  the  state  ^^  Roman  jurisprudence  established  the  equality  of  every  person  before  the  law ;  the  Roman 

fs^to  c'are'for  the  welfare  Church  to  a  certain  degree  maintained  the  equality  of  all  sinners  before  the  gospel.    Practi- 
justw  comp"äins'of  cally,  however,  this  equality  of  all  men  as  to  human  rights  was  detained  in  the  stage  of  mere 

social  oppression.  possibility.    That  it  may  be  realised  will  be  the  task  of  the  social-political  state;  i.  e.  of  that 

—  state  which  is  permeated  with  the  impulse  that,    paramount  to  all  other  obligations,  the 

impartial  care  for  the  welfare  of  all  its  inhabitants  must  be  the  sole  motive  in  all  its  functions. 
The  state  based  on  "legitimacy"  can  afford  to  manage  legislative  and  executive  rule  in 
accord  with  the  straight  lines  of  rank,  to  which  it  adapts  its  methods  of  public  order,  of 
taxation,  and  of  military  protection.  This  juridical  state  regards  the  subjects  as  existing  for 
the  sake  of  the  nobility  and  its  existence  for  the  sake  of  the  state ;  hence  the  state  consists  of 
well  defined  parts  which  submit  to  the  rule  of  a  fixed  legalism  for  the  sake  of  general  secur- 
ity as  the  condition  of  peace  and  prosperity.  Adaptation  of  the  government  to  the  demands 
of  the  time  and  to  the  interests  of  the  "subject"  has  no  place  in  this  state. 

In  the  social-political  state  the  constituent  persons  group  themselves  into  figures 
according  to  affiliating  principles  which  they  severally  represent,  and  thereby  render  the 
government  constitutional.  The  state  now  exists  for  the  sake  of  the  people  and  establishes  a 
government  of,  for,  and  by  the  people.  The  groups  and  factions,  representing  diverse  inter- 
ests, must  of  necessity  balance  each  other  for  the  sake  of  the  common  welfare ;  and  from  all 
this  results  the  differentiation  of  representative  government  into  executive  departments 
presided  over  by  responsible  men  of  merit,  into  upper  and  lower  houses,  etc.;  and  into  a 
system  of  administrative  agencies.  Political  science  everywhere  tends  to  that  form  of  govern- 
§  ui,  174,  .  jjjgjj^.  but  its  probation  and  universal  introduction  depends  upon  the  repristination  of  the 
No  personal  prerogative  old  Germanic  and  Christian  maxim,  that  there  exists  no  personal  prerogative  which  is 
not  connected  with  specific  duties— that  to  rule  means  to  serve.  Experience  teaches  that  even 
governments  based  upon  direct  election  by  majorities  can  remain  satisfactory  only  under 
this  condition.  But  whenever  personal  rights  are  accentuated  at  the  expense  of  social  duties; 
when  the  objectivity  of  law  and  duty  is  questioned  by  the  arbitrariness  of  subjectivism,  then 
human  society  is  alternately  threatened  by  anarchy  and  despotism ;  and  the  chances  for  the 
political  advance  of  humanity  on  the  line  of  true  socialism  diminish  under  retrogressive 
movements. 

Our  concern  will  be  to  watch  the  movement  of  the  thought  of  humanism  and  to 
beware  against  its  mutilations. 

Pantheistic  speculation— starting  from  above,  and  assigning  a  high  position  to 

man,  as  in  German  philosophy— cannot  be  accused  of  lacking  ideality.  Neither  do  the 

FonwEr'  French  social  theories  deserve  such  blame,  inasmuch  as  the  propositions  of  St.  Simon, 

cabkt.      of  Fourier  and  the  "Travels  to  Icaria"  by  Cabet,  are  touchingly  sentimental  and 

idealistic. 

It  was  materialism  which  dragged  down  these  ideals  from  their  high  pedestals. 
Materialism  as  the  reverse  side  of  pantheistic  philosophy,  armed  with  its  innumer- 
able "irrefragable  results  of  exact  science",  fell  upon  the  Occident  and  took  it  by 
surprise.  Man's  world-consciousness  completely  severed  from  God-consciousness  had 
been  onesidedly  cultivated:  the  ego  in  its  loneliness  had  been  taken  under  wrong 
treatment.  Instead  of  its  ego,  which  previously  had  been  conceived  as  being  invested 
with  freedom,  at  least,  and  with  the  capability  of  reasoning,  nothing  was  left  after 
the  evaporating  process,  but  geological  matter  and  motion  with  human  nature  as  its 
product  and  its  prey. 

To  materialism  man  is  no  longer  a  person  standing  in  relation  to  God;  the  light  of  the 
thought  divine  is  extinguished ;  the  work  of  the  thinking  mind  is  mere  phosphorescence  of 
brain-shaped  matter,  closed  up  in  its  chest  of  universal  darkness,  i.  e..  nescience.  The  issues 
of  this  discovery  of  "the  dynamic  sociology",  as  propounded  by  Ward,  would  lead  to  an  Euro- 
pean chaos,  America  included. 

In  accord  with  the  nature  of  things  the  oppressive  atmosphere  must  develop 
tempests  in  the  lower  regions  of  humanity.  The  signs  of  the  gathering  hurricanes 
are  now  trifled  with  in  the  higher  regions,  as  tho  they  were  to  be  enjoyed  as 
the  fresh  morning  zephyrs  of  a  new  sera,  in  which  finally  man  will  delight  in  his 
Bove^-eign  self-suflaciency;  whilst  we  have  attended  the  idea  of  humanism  up  to  its 
sublime  heights,  and  on  coming  back  find  it,  to  our  dismay,  in  its  deep  descent  and 
radical  profligacy,  to  a  large  extent. 


Retrospect. 


Pantheism  not  bare  of 
humanistfl;  ideals. 


but  it  sublimates  the 
"ego''  of  which 
subsequently 
materialism  takes  the 
precipitated  residue 
into  still  worse 
treatment; 

Both  dissolving 
personality  into  oriental 
generalness. 

What  materialism  has 
left  of  the  "ego." 


'Dynamic  sociology" 

Ward. 


would  lead  to  chaos. 


Signs  of  the  times 
trifled  with  in  the 
higher  regions  of 
••».iety". 


n  G.  Ch.  X.  §  189.  PROSPECTUS.     THE  NEW  ^ON.  349 

CH.  X.     THE  ARYANS  OF  EASTERN  EUROPE.    GREEK  CATHOLICISM  IN  ITS 
ADAPTNESS  TO  PROCURE  AN  ASIATIC  RENAISSANCE. 

§  189.    At  last  we  now  take  the  whole  compass  of  the  Christian  nations  of  the  Prospectus. 
Oceident  into  one  comprehensive  view,  under  the  aspect  of  being  the  bearers  of  the 
cardinal  thought. 

Never   before  was  the  horizon  so  widely  extended;  and  these  nations,  altho  Nominal  christian 
not  ruling  the  earth  on  the  strength  of  political  organisation,  yet  dominate  over  the  worid"spriad!n*gcuiture. 
world  by  the  sway  of  their  influence.    Alongside  and  between  the  highways  of  com- 
munication, by  means  of  which  European  culture  took  control  of  human  develop- 
ment, there  lie  as  yet  the  heaps  of  loose  debris  in  the  African  negro  states,  and  the  Ethnical  debris  of 
solid  mass  of  Islam  and  Buddhism.    A  panorama  of  ethnological  history  spreads  out 
before  our  vision,  such  as  man  could  never  Iiave  imagined.  The  Christian  nations  have 
stepped  out  of  their  own  narrow  limits  upon  the  breadth  of  the  earth.    At  first  they  !^d  Buddhum/"^*" 
went  out  from  their  domiciles  to  go  upon  the  market-place,  as  it  were;  and  now  they 
venture  out  to  go  to  church  with  those  whom  they  teach.    By  newly  invented  means 
of  communication  the  mind  has  shortened  the  distances  of  space  and  time  to  such  a 
degree,  that  only  now  a  common  activity,  that  is,  historical  life  in  a  universal  manner 
is  rendered  possible.    The  nations  abandon  their  former  exclusiveness;  they  literally 
flow  together  to  converse  with  each  other,  and  become  conscious  of  the  necessity  to 
establish  relations  of  reciprocal  interaction.   By  the  solidarity  of  interests  humanity 
is  induced  to  take  modes  of  organic  connection  into  consideration.    Wherever  one 
nation  is  set  in  commotion,  the  oscillations  immediately  spread  through  all  of  them. 
The  whole  earth,  and  even  the  air  surrounding  it,  is  made  the  theatre  of  history,  so 
that  only  now  universality  can  be  spoken  of  as  its  chief  attribute.    All  parts  of  the  hrstor^Te^omes"** 
globe  have  been  brought  into  comparatively  close  contact  with  each  other,  whereby  '^''^*' 
all  of  its  inhabitants  are  brought  under  the  focus  almost  of  one  common  biograpliy. 
Gradually  the  purposes  become  perceptible,  for  which  the  great  bulk  of  humanity 
has  remained  at  rest  during  the  past.    We  begin  to  see  the  purpose  for  which  now  the  „ 

°  '^  °  jr       r-  Purpose  of  the  present 

ethical  task  of  delivering  confined,  and  of  redeeming  arrested  life  by  divine-human  unfowing  of  the  ethical 

<=>  '  o  J  task  to  redeem  arrested 

cooperation  is  unfolded;  we  learn  intelligently  to  read  the  program  of  the  coming  aeon,  «thnicai  me. 

In  order  to  notice  how  one  part  of  our  race  after  another  is  drawn  into  the  com- 
mon engagement,  we  must  begin  with  a  view  of  the  Slavonic  nations,  which  so  program  of  the  new 
far  have  attracted  less  attention  than  all  the  other  Aryans.  *'*■ 

Age  of  missions. 

The  Romanic  and  Germanic  nations  also  must  pass  in  review  once  more  so  as  to  arrive  at 
a  full  understanding  of  the  work  assigned  to  the  Aryans,  now  as  ever  in  the  lead  of  historical 
development.  At  this  time  they  willbeconsideredunder  that  aspect  of  the  thought  of  humanity, 
which  history  in  general,  not  merely  in  the  Reformation  and  its  counteractions  has  presented 
to  us.    Adhering  to  this  cardinal  thought  we  are  compelled  to  follow  the  historic  movements  ,„  .. 

...  r         .   ,      ,  .  ff    ,       o  .      1  T.T       1  Nations  upon  the  wide 

in  the  direction  in  which  we  meet  again  with  the  nations  of  the  first  circle.     We  thus  return  to  periphery  of  the  first 
the  widest  periphery  to  which  the  thought  of  humanism  as  proceding  from  the  central  source  '''"'*' 
now  radiates^ 

Upon  the  plains  between  the  Black  Sea  and  the  White  Sea,  between  the  Bug  and  Slavonic  peoples, 
the  Ural,  in  the  low-lands  of  eastern  Europe  the  Slavonic  people  had  struck  their 
camps.    They  have  assimilated  German,  Finnish,  and  Tatar  elements;  they  have  al- 
lowed Turks  and  Mongolians  to  intermix  with  them.     In  the  great  steppes  of  Russia 
an  ethnical  mass  is  spread  out  which,  altho  nominally  under  the  dome  of  Greek  under  Greek  Catholicism. 
Catholicism,  remains  in  a  declining  attitude  toward  western  civilisation,  if  not 
against  humanism  in  general.    Those  of  the  Slavs  who  are  neighbors  to  the  Ger- 
mans, the  Poles  and  the  Bohemians,  seem  to  have  become  conscious  of  the  fact,  that  Ä  gSAc*'"** 
the  individual  person  ought  to  be  independent.    It  was  on  account  of  the  appropria-  p"°"p^^'- 
tion  of  this  alien  element,  that  the  social  formations  of  Bohemia  and  Polonia  have 
been  called  "caricatures  of  the  Germanic  principles,"  and  that  the  Polish  ship  of 
state  foundered.    The  Slavonic  form  of  consciousness  was  in  itself  poorly  qualified 
for  emancipation.    Gradually  consolidating  under  the  Russian  scepter  the  Slavs  re-  seifhood  relinquished 
linquished  selfhood,  satisfied  with  having  it  represented  by  the  Czar  alone.  °   "  ''^"' 

It  is  difficult  to  define  the  peculiarity  of  the  Russian  character. 


350 


THE  YOUNG  EMPIRE  OF  "ALL  THE  RUSSIANS".        II  G.  Ch.  X.  §  190. 


Foreign  alloy  in  the 
Russian  nation. 

Nadkshw». 


Asiatic 

Oreek-Byzantine. 
Latin-Polish, 
Gernian-Waraegian 
elements.  Akutshin. 

No  analysis  necessary. 

Russia  rather  destined 
to  amalgamate. 

Component  parts  of  the 
Russian  nation,  the 
latest  state  organised 
in  Europe. 


National  tendency  and 
ethical  purpose  in"the 
formation  of  large, 
conglomerate  states. 


Aptitude  of  the  Slavs 
for  constituting  the 
apparatus  to  civilise 
the  East  after  the 
Russian  method. 

Wladimir  the  Great. 


Russia  the  heir 
of  East-Rome 
ecclesiastically. 
§150. 


Religious  factor 
conditioning  the 
Russian  form  of 
civilisation. 
§  125,  131,  132, 137,  139, 
156.  175. 


Greek  Catholicism  too 
void  of  spiritual  energy 
to  be  able  to  elevate 
the  nation. 


The  virealth  of  the 
church. 


Church  officers  serve  in 
a  certain  measure  as  a 
police  force 
and  as  tax-collectors. 


In  their  former  home,  the  south-eastern  regions  of  the  empire,  the  Russians  permitted 
themselves  to  be  mixed  with  foreign  ingredients.  It  is  just  there,  says  Nadeshdin,  from 
whence  "much  of  the  Asiatic  nature  within  the  Russian  is  to  be  discriminated,  which  points 
to  Altaic,  rather  than  Caucasian  origin".  In  addition  there  is  to  be  considered  the  influence 
of  Greek- Byzantine  civilisation  predominant  at  different  periods;  and  above  all  the  Latin- 
Polish  as  well  as  the  German- Waraegian  influences  holding  sway  during  the  time  when  Rus- 
sian culture  was  in  its  incipiency. 

More  satisfactory  ethnic  analysis  than  Nadeshdin's  discrimination  is  yet  to  be  made. 
Anutshin  proposes  to  carry  on  the  investigation  of  Russian  characteristics  under  the  aspect 
of  natural  selection  and  cross-breeding.  But  in  order  to  understand  the  original  character 
of  Russia's  nationality  pure  and  simple  we  need  not  wait  for  an  answer  from  analysis.  It 
appears  to  us  as  the  veritable  task  of  Russia  rather  to  accomplish  an  amalgamation  than  to 
reduce  the  composition  to  its  radicals. 

There  are  the  ethnical  types  of  the  northern  coast-regions,  and  of  the  bottom  lands  of 
the  Yolga :  the  Cossacks  on  the  banks  of  the  Don  and  on  the  slopes  of  the  Ural.  There  are 
those  Siberian  tribes  among  whom  prehistoric  Shamanism  lies  bare  upon  the  surface  and 
may  be  studied  to  this  day.  And  then  the  remnants  of  the  Tsheremissians  and  Wotjakkians, 
etc.— all  forming  the  nation  which  since  recent  times  is  known  as  that  of  all  the  Russians. 

Russia,  as  the  youngest  member  of  the  states  organism  of  Europe,  has  brought 
these  semi-barbarian  and  partly  savage  people  under  a  single  rule.  We  have  found 
it  a  principle  of  history,  to  unify  and  balance  peoples  in  whose  behalf  it  is  ever  tend- 
ing to  gather  them  around  an  ideal  center  of  gravity  and  attraction.  A  higher  hand 
has  prearranged  and  ordained  these  natural  means  to  guide  human  affairs  in  an  ethical 
way  to  their  final  purpose,  the  education  of  the  children  of  men.  To  this  intention  is 
to  be  reduced  the  natural  tendency  of  history  towards  universal  hierarchies  and 
world-monarchies,  which  furnish  the  objective  rules  and  disciplinary  factors  for 
educating  the  masses.-  These  formations,  once  existing,  are  made  to  serve,  with  their 
compulsory  forces,  the  purpose  of  setting  free  subjective  consciousness,  so  as  to  awaken 
it  for  refusing  to  bear  this  external  compulsion  any  longer.  Thus  we  may  under- 
stand the  purposes  which  Providence  seems  to  have  designed  for  the  Russian  state  in 
these  modern  timas. 

Russia  is  made  to  be  a  task-master,  and  the  Slfvs  are  best  adapted  to  constitute 
the  apparatus  through  which  Russia  is  to  prepare  the  East  for  civilisation. 

The  national  consciousness  of  the  Russians  dates  its  origin  from  the  times  of  Wladimir 
the  Great.  What  Arthur  of  the  Round  Table  is  to  the  Romanised  Celts,  what  the  Burgundian 
court  and  the  heroes  of  the  Amelungen  and  Nibelungen  are  to  the  Germans,  St.  Wladimir  is  to 
the  Russians.  At  Kiev  he  holds  court  with  song  and  in  glory.  The  nobles  of  every  Slavonic 
country  ride  thither  to  pay  homage  to  their  prince.  Messengers  sent  to  Constantinople 
return  and  report  of  the  splendor  of  the  Byzantine  manner  of  worship.  The  mighty  prince 
conquers  the  Chersonesus,  demanding  and  receiving  Anna  of  Byzantium  for  his  consort,  and 
allows  himself  by  her  to  be  converted  to  Christianity.  Greek  and  Bulgarian  priests  are 
invited  and  arrive  in  great  numbers. 

Thus  Russia  is  in  fact  made  heir  of  Eastern  Rome  by  virtue  of  her  ecclesiastical 
inheritance.  The  consideration  of  the  other,  the  political  bequeathment,  must  be 
postponed  until  we  have  become  acquainted  with  the  contents  of  the  religious  testa- 
ment, which  in  every  case  molds  the  character  of  an  age— and  of  a  nation  perman- 
ently, if  that  influence  is  exerted  upon  it  during  its  infancy. 

§  190.  Once  the  people  constituting  the  nucleus  of  the  Russian  nation  had  been 
commanded  in  droves  to  go  down  into  the  water  of  the  Dniepr  for  baptism.  Hence- 
forth the  Greek  Church  served  as  the  backbone  of  "holy  Russia"  and  is  responsible 
for  the  condition  in  which  today  we  find  this  uncouth  giant  of  an  empire. 

The  popes  of  that  church  perpetuate  the  most  abject  methods  of  religious  performance, 
and  the  most  despicable  state  of  national  existence  is  the  result.  The  poor  are  considered  to 
live  for  no  other  purpose  than  to  keep  up  the  practice  of  alms-giving ;  nobody  thinks  of 
educating  them  to  selfrespect,  or  to  becc>me  selfsupporting.  They  are  not  even  spoken  to  as 
creatures  possessing  any  claim  to  human  treatment,  whilst  on  the  other  hand  the  churches 
and  the  monastic  institutions  grow  to  enormous  proportions.  Agents  peddling  pictures  of 
saints  throughout  the  whole  territory,  from  Novgorod  to  Missolonghi,  clear  between  two 
hundred  and  a  thousand  per  cent  of  profits.  The  cloisters  are  immensely  rich,  tho  Peter  the 
Great  permitted  them  to  possess  no  more  than  one  inkstand,  to  be  chained  to  the  wall  of  the 
refectory.  Perhaps  they  are  allowed  two  by  this  time,  tho  the  one  would  perfectly  suffice 
their  scholarly  ambition. 

The  church  is  the  avowed  police-officer  and  taxgatherer  of  the  state.  Pobedonoszew 
was  under  the  lately  deceased  emperor  what  Fouque  was  to  Napoleon— chief  of  the  govern- 
mental force  of  detectives.    It  was  altogether  in  keeping  with  Russian  views  and  customs 


n  G.  CH.  X.  §  190.     RUSSIAN  CESARO-PAPISM.— HEIR  TO  BYZANZ,  ECCLESIASTICALLY.    •  351 

that  once  a  colonel  of  the  cavalry,  Count  Protassow,  was  appointed  president  of  the 
"holy  synod"  of  the  czar.  That  state-church  is  nothing  more  nor  less  than  a  department  of  the 
administration,  to  the  resort  of  which  the  collection  of  taxes  belongs  as  its  chief  civil  duty. 
The  pope,  low  and  raw,  tho  officiating  in  a  church  filled  with  costly  shrines,  pictures, 
incense  and  candles,  with  a  wealth  of  jewels,  relics,  and  old  liturgies,  is  treated  with  disdain 
as  soon  as  he  steps  out  of  his  church.  And  yet  this  stupid  priestcraft  wields  influence  enough 
to  keep  the  people  in  stolid  devoutness  and  dumbfounded  superstition.  The  Russian  populace 
is  as  well  drilled  in  kissing  holy  images  as  it  is  skilled  in  deception,  theft  and  debauchery  a 
moment  after.    And  yet  that  people  is  highly  endowed  with  excellent  talents. 

In  the  wide  compass  of  this  vast  empire  millions  are  therefore  absolutely  void  shamanism  of  the 

.  .  •'  Kirgees  unmolested; 

of  any  trace  of  civilisation.    The  shamanistic  Kirg:ees  have  their  own  way  unmo-  Lutheran  ministers 

-  ./  imprisoned 

lested,  while  Lutheran  pastors  around  the  Baltic  are  put  behind  prison  bars.  The 
Tscherimissians  worship  today  as  they  did  five  thousand  years  ago,  with  slaying  a 
colt  in  the  woods— with  the  difference  only  that  now  they  do  it  in  honor  of  the 
"Motlier  of  God." 

In  conformity  with  ecclesiasticism  were  fashioned  the  forms  of  government  and  peter  the  Great 
life  in  general.  Contemporaneously  with  Louis  XIV  Peter  dared  to  say,  I  am  the  state  Sed1?om  loSxiv!" 
— except  that  the  absolutism  of  the  French  state  with  its  estates  of  nobility  and 
clergy  was  of  historic  growth,  whilst  in  Russia  the  creation  of  rank  was  prompted 
by  the  caprices  of  a  semi- Asiatic  court,  and  the  selection  of  persons  to  be  elevated  J^ian  nowiity. 
was  made  at  random.    The  imperial  favorites  formed  an  unmanly,  servile,  and  avari- 
cious bureaucracy,  which  cringed  before  its  superiors  and  oppressed  the  subjects  who 
brought  no  bribes.    The  intelligence  requisite   for     high  positions  was  imparted  into 
Kussian  life  by  foreigners ;but  this  did  not  alleviate  the  obnoxiousness  of  the  system* 

Descriptive  of  the  tyranny  of  the  administration  is  the  surveillance  of  pass-ports.  They  are 
not  only  a  police-measure  but  also  utilised  in  the  collection  of  taxes.  Taxation  does  not  direct- 
ly press  upon  the  individual  subject,  because  the  community  is  held  responsible  for  his 
taxes  and  must  remit  his  apportionment  to  the  revenue-department.  The  passport  is  the  means 
by  which  the  community  may  take  hold  of  the  tax-payer  as  a  bail  would  of  his  principal.  If  he  se^^e'purposes'of 
abscond,  the  community  has  to  pay  his  assessment;  it  is  the  tax-payer  and  must  make  »"eyenue-coiiection and 

.,,«..,.  .,  .  ,.,,.  police-surveiUance. 

up  the  deficiency.    "This  method  of  raising  the  imperial  revenue  continues  to  this  day"  says  VonFaicc 

von  Falck.    Probably  those  entrusted  with  collecting  the  communal  tribute  are,  in  cases  of 
delinquency,  no  longer  sent  to  Siberia  minus  their  noses.    It  is  probable,  too,  that  the  descend- 
ants of  the  old  Tatar  chief  s— privileged  as  a  sort  of  nobility— and  that  the  hierarchy,  the  Effects  of  gradual 
priests  of  Lamaism  and  of  Islam,  and  that  the  other  holders  of  state  offices  are  no  longer 
entirely  exempt  from  taxation,  as  they  were  up  to  recent  times.    But  in  whatever  respect  the 
ukases  of  the  czar  may  have  been  affected  by  more  humane  meditations,  even  to  the  extent  of    .,    ....         « 
abolishing  serfdom,  Russian  absolutism  has  not  abandoned  any  of  its  principles,  and  the  serfdom, 
oppression  under  which  the  starving  peasants  groan  does  not  seem  to  become  ameliorated 
their  loyalty    notwithstanding.   The  extreme  indigence  of  the  Slavonian  peasantry  is  of  much 
earlier  date  than  the   famines  of  recent  years  may  indicate.    Measures  were  said  to  have  Enfranchised  peasantry 
been  taken  in  order  to  meet  the  general  destitution.    But  the  effects  are  scarcely  perceptible.  '**  starving  condition. 
In  response  to  the  shiploads  of  bread-stuffs,  donated  by  the  citizens  of  the  United  States,  Rus- 
sia put  a  higher  tariff  on  grain  imported  from  America.  Attempts  on  the  part  of  the  govern- 
ment to  introduce  home-rule  or  selfgovernment  to  a  certain  extent  have  sadly  failed. 

In  the  regions  of  the  Danube  delta  there  are  hundreds  of  thousands  of  enfranchised 
peasants  loafing  around,  looking  for  work  in  vain.    In  an  unspeakably  miserable  condition 
they  return  home  to  Great-Russia.    On  the  lower  Volga  thousands  crawl  in  and  out  of  their 
dug-outs  or  reed-huts,  or  work  for  starvation  wages  on  the  shores  of  the  Caspian  Sea.  Never- 
theless, the  most  orthodox  heir  of  Byzantium  looks  upon  the  "western  corruption"  with  an  ^"p^erciiiousn^ess^'as  to 
amazing  selfsufficiency.     Hergenroether  describes  that  supercilious  Byzantine  spirit  which  "Western  corruption". 
acts  spitefully  toward  everything  it  cannot  vanquish  or  which  does  not  prostrate  itself  before 
the  "Queen  of  the  world".    The  work  of  the  occidental  church— under  such  an  extra va-  Occidental  modifications 
gant  amount    of    freedom,  as  seen  with  the  eye    of   New-Rome— seemed    an    impertinent  considered  as  a 
innovation.    With  the  same  eye  does  the  heir  of  New-Rome  look  upon  western  Europe  today  and  apoltacy"'^*'^**'*"^ 
as  upon  apostates  from  his  religion.    For  the  secret  of  Russia's  cohesion  consists  in  nothing 
less,  than  this  haughty  attitude  of  superior  orthodoxy. 

Aksakow  and  Katkow  asserted  that  Russia,  to  the  detriment  of  completing  her  civilisa- 
tion, had  contracted  from  the  West  only  a  superficial  coat  of  politeness  and  conventionalism. 
Every  measure  was  therefore  applied  to  wipe  off  that  surcharge  of  foreign  culture.  Those 
Russian  patriots  may  not  have  been  much  out  of  the  way  in  their  judgment.  The  only  Foreign  culture  rejected 
question  is,  what  kind  of  culture  could  be  brought  forth  without  western  incitements.  The  ^  P**''^*»  ^'^^  Katkow. 
question  is,  in  other  words,  what  is  the  nature  of  the  Russian  thus  covered  with  a  mere  coat 
of  polish  ?    Most  likely,  after  it  is  rubbed  off,  the  features  of  old  Byzantium  will  reappear. 

From  Byzantium  Russia  inherited  all  her  tastes,  even  in  regard  to  architecture.  The 
Greek  cross  was  taken  for  the  groundplan,  its  outlines  being  marked  by  cupaloes.  But 
behold  how  the  original  pattern  was  spoiled  through  the  Sarmatian  peculiarities,  that  is  by 
retaining  Byzantine  vanity  and  pomp,  minus  its  remnants  of  the  Greek  antique,  and  adding 
Asiatic  barbarism  and  eccentricity  instead. 


352  RUSSIA  POLITCIALLY  HEIB  TO  BYZANTIUM.  II  G.  Ch.  X.  §  191. 

Byzantine  characteristic»  The  low  and  gloomy  interior  of  the  church  edifices  is  not  cheered  with  mosaic  work  or 

architecture"'*     Kug'ub.  change  of  lines.    Outside  they  appear  as  of  despondent  mind  under  the  weight  of  dispropor- 

tioned  cupaloes,  the  inflated  masses  of  which  loolt  like  subverted  balloons.    Kugler  compares 

them  to  "bundles  of  gigantic  mushrooms".    This  style  of  architecture  prevails  in  Moldavia,  in 

Serbia,  in  Archangel— everywhere. 

Byzantine  pomp  Just  as  the  artistic  pattern-book  of  Mt.  Athos  once  for  ever  had  to  fix  the  forms  under 

retained,  Asiatic    which  the  saints  were  to  be  represented,  so  the  czar  now  prescribes  to  Russia  the  rules  of  art. 

added""^*^^^"^  Nothing  is  more  emblematic  of  the  stiff  monotony  and  depressed  mood  of  Russia  than  this 

'  .^        ecclesiastical  uniform  thus  stamped  even  upon  the  scenery  of  the  land.    Fioravanti  was  com- 

by  the  czar.  §  125.  pelled  to  imitate  the  cathedral  of  Wladimir  with  its  five  onion-shaped  steeples  when  he  built 

Kremlin  built  by  *he  Kremlin.    Hence  it  cannot  be  wondered  at  that  Asiatic  features  prevail  also  in  the  designs 

Fioravauti  after  the  of  private  buildings.    Up  to  date  we  discern  in  the  dwelling  of  the  Bojar  "the  remnants  of 

cathedral     *      a  i   ir  ^^^.y  ancient  and  traditionary  habits  symbolised,  of  habits  which  are  traceable  to  the  interior 

Private  dweiHnffs  of  Asia,"  as  Von  Reber  avers. 

t'rSois.'*'*'"v^N^RKWB.         In  the  shape  given  to  environments,  the  mind  is  reflected  as  regards  ethics  as 

study  of  languages.  Well  aS  SBSthetiCS. 

It  is  worthy  of  recognition,  that  Russia  has  brought  forth  minds  productive  in  all 
branches  of  science  and  literature ;  on  the  whole,  however,  they  have  lacked  originality 
and  depended  on  the  impulses  received  from  the  West.  It  cannot  be  denied,  that  the 
state  does  much  in  furtherance  of  civilisation.  The  Arabian,  Persian,  and  Turkish 
languages  have  been  taught  in  all  the  state-universities.  In  Kasan  and  Crakow 
they  have  chairs  for  the  languages  of  Tibet,  Mongolia,  and  China.  For  many  years 
Book-trade  of  Kasan.  P^^t  the  govemmeut  has  granted  stipends  to  students  who  devote  themselves  ex- 
clusively to  Asiatic  studies.  Kasan  is  the  book-emporium  of  the  East,  where  all  the 
Islam  literature  is  printed  which  the  publishers  send  to  the  Crimea,  to  Asia-Minor, 
and  Turkestan. 

§  191.    The  endeavor  to  master  Asiatic  languages  leads  us  to  consider  the  other, 

of^Byzantlum'     the  political  part  of  the  Byzantine  inheritance.    The  intermediation  between  Orient 

politically.  and  Occident,  to  which  Constantinople  owed  its  importance,  was  transferred  to 

Russia,  and  made  this  empire  one  of  the  prominent  factors  in  the  history  of  the 

Task  of  intermediating    f  uture.    Thls  task  of  Intermediating  devolved  upon  Russia  when  Constantinople  and 

occTd^^'ntdeve'ioprd  upon  Trapezuut  fell,  and  renders  Russia  the  apparent  continuation  of  New  Rome  in  the 

fr"a^zu^'  *^*  **"  *^    East,  and  the  counterpart  to  New  Rome  in  the  West.    From  the  manner  in  which 

Russia  has  adhered  to  Byzantine  conservatism  and  ecclesiasticism,  it  is  to  be  inferred 

that  she  will  even  more  tenaciously  keep  in  mind  the  purport  of  her  political  legacy. 

In  Trapezunt  stood  the  golden  palace  of  the  great  Comnenians,  with  its  view,  the 
res  Wence  o  *  the  last  *  beautiful  panorama  of  the  Black  Sea  and  its  shores,  among  citadels  and  flower-gardens. 
East-Roman  dynasty.  Incomparable  splendor  garnished  the  state-halls  of  this  summer  residence,  and  the  spacious 
libraries,  described  by  Bessarion,  were  well  stocked  with  rare  manuscripts.  Olive-groves, 
and  orange  orchards,  and  expansive  vineyards  surrounded  the  castle,  rendering  it  an  object 
fit  for  fairy-tales.  In  the  bazars  of  the  city  below  were  piled  up  the  goods  of  Asia :  the  gold- 
brocades  of  Bagdad,  silks  from  China  and  Farther-India,  honey  from  Migrelia,  grain  from 
Tauris.  In  exchange  the  ships  of  the  Genoese  brought  broadcloth  from  Italy  and  Flanders, 
and  steel  ware  from  Germany.  The  wealth  of  the  emperors  exceeded  all  calculations.  A  sam- 
ple of  it  can  be  seen  today  in  the  museum  of  Cincinnati,  a  wine  bowl  of  exquisite  workman- 
ship, made  of  solid  silver,  weighing  about  a  ton,  and  holding,  I  judge,  at  least  thirty  gallons. 
The  fairy-tale  of  Trapezunt  is  not  forgotten  by  the  czars ;  and  what  once  was  an  expedition 
from  Sebastopol  over  to  "Tarabison"  is  little  more  today  than  a  pleasure  trip  of  short  dura- 
tion. 

Early  origin  of  the  The  Imagery  of  that  ride  leads  over  to  Asia  and  to  the  observation  of  the  political 

questfon."  conjunctions  in  the  crisis  of  "the  eastern  problem"  now  approaching.  This  "Oriental 

Question"  is  before  the  world  not  only  since  recent  years.    It  concerns  the  great  and 

portentous  inheritance  of  which,  according  to  the  traditionary  polity  of  old,  Russia 

feels  now  in  duty  bound  to  take  possession. 

Nine  crowns,  all  kept  in  religious  esteem,  did  history  in  its  course  bestow  upon  the  head 
Nine  crownsof  the  of  the  czar,  and  add  to  the  jewelry-chamber  of  the  empire.  Above  all  glitters  the  crown  which 

direction  In  which  the  Sainted  Basilius,  the  Byzantine  emperor,  presented  to  Wladimir,   his  son-in-law.    Upon 

^"^^Indiwment  U  to        *^**  ^'*^*  *°*^  most  sacrcd  crown  followed  those  of  Kasan,  Astrachan,  Siberia,  Polonia,  Tauris, 
proceed.  etc.,  and  finally  that  of  Malta ;  all  denoting  the  mode  and  direction  in  which  that  imperial  pol- 

icy is  to  proceed. 

It  was  necessary  to  refer  to  Russia's  genesis  and  present  auspices  in  order  to  il- 
lustrate by  a  few  strokes  the  significance  of  that  country  in  the  initial  process  of 
extending  European  culture  into  Asia.    Russia's  charge  in  the  cultural  movement  of 


n  G.  CH.  X.  §  191.  RUSSIA  A  PROVINCE  OF  OLD  MONGOLU.  353 

modern  history  may  be  compared  to  a  break-water  constructed  to  protect  ourcardl-  Advance  of  free  thought 
nal  thought,  lest  the  force  of  the  humanistic  tide  returning  to  the  primitive  home  of  Äened"*  °^''  **" 
the  Aryans  might  through  precipitation  jeopardise  the  desirable  result.  The  course 
of  free  thought  towards  the  East  needs  to  be  slackened  until  the  Asiatics  gradually 
ripen  to  receive  the  idea  of  freedom  without  causing  sudden  explosions  of  the  heavy 
and  solid  destructive  masses.  In  the  upheavals  of  the  nihilistic  turbulencies  we  have 
witnessed  already,  how  dangerous  advanced  thought  becomes  to  people  unqualified 
as  yet  for  applying  it  in  the  proper  exercise  of  freedom.  Deliverance  from  condi-  Russia  not  at  au 
tions  which  have  arrested  the  progress  of  civilisation  for  thousands  of  years  can  only 
proceed  cautiously  and  steadily.  To  the  western  Europeans  it  may  seem  as  if  Russia 
were  absolutely  retrogressive,  when  for  good  reasons,  it  simply  shuts  itself  against  a 
sudden  inflation  of  alien  elements.  The  world  may  be  assured  that  Russia,  notwith- 
standing tlie  mixture  of  Asiatic-European  world-consciousness,  is  wide  awake,  and 
not  at  all  tardy  in  improving  upon  its  present  position.  Russia  is  putting  herself  into 
condition  to  fill  the  appointment  assigned  to  her  in  the  near  future.  The  latest  move- 
ment by  Russia  of  founding  that  gigantic  banking  system  which  virtually  makes 
her  the  owner  of  China,  goes  far  to  vindicate  this  prediction. 

For  centuries  Russia  has  kept  an  eye  upon  the  Mediterranean  in  order  to  have  an  exit  by 
water  and  to  compete  with  the  marines  of  other  nations.  It  has  Itept  its  eye  upon  Asia  and  the  Slavonic  folk-lore,    i  6i. 
Pacific,  until  of  late;  so  soon  as  it  seemed  to  the  czar  that  the  Pan-Slavonic  sympathies  were  Palacki*"* 

strong  enough  to  secure  and  cover  the  western  flank,  from  Prague  to  the  mountains  of 
Montenegro,  it  commenced  operations  there. 

The  expectations  as  to  this  Pan-Slavonic  rally,  seem  to  become  sorely  disappointed;  the  revives pan-slavonic 
southern  Slavs  seem  not  to  let  themselves  be  captivated  in  the  interest  of  Russia.    Since  ^y™P**^*®*' 
Shaffarik  and  Palacky  brought  the  rich  literature  of  Slavonic  folk-lore  and  heroism  to  light 
again,  the  Slavonic  nations  along  the  Danube  seem  to  rise  to  the  consciousness  that  they 
ought   to   keep  independent  of  Russia.    Whether  they  are  mature  for  detaching  themselves 
from  Panslavism,  and  have  become  able  to  govern  themselves  in  spite  of  the  Russian  agita-  Political  inheritance 
tions,  may  be  questionable  as  yet ;  so  much  is  unquestionable  that  Russia,  whether  it  will  empire!*  Mongolian 
control  all  the  Slavonians  of  the  south  or  not,  will  enter    upon  its  inheritance— the  old 
Mongolian  territories. 

In  order  to  obtain  a  cogent  judgment  of  the  Russian  giant  it  is  necessary  to  make  a  Mongolian  designs  since 
brief  abstract  of  title  as  to  the  Mongolian  dominion,  in  its  widest  extent  under  Dgengis  ^gengis-Khan.     1 150. 
Khan.    If  it  is  understood  how  this  conqueror  wielded  his  power,  then  we  know 
what  to  expect  before  long  of  the  Russian  management  of  Asia. 

In  the  year  A.  D.  1227  Dgengis  died.  China,  the  Caliphate  of  Bagdad,  and  his  attempt  at 
Russia  had  been  subjugated  by  him;  the  reins  of  government  were  managed  in  Kara-  "^"•''**'°°- 
korum  and  Samarkand.  In  front  of  his  victorious  armies  from  the  slopes  of  the  Altai 
Mountains  the  mighty  Khan  had  proclaimed  his  laws.  They  were  in  force  from  Lake 
Kuku-noor,  upon  whose  frozen  surface  king  Tangut  was  vanquished,  to  the  Dniepr, 
where  the  great  prince  of  Kiew  was  reduced  to  vasgalage.  Millions  of  warriors  were 
sacrificed  in  those  incessant  wars,  yet  the  Dgengis  Khan  was  no  savage,  if  judged  by 
his  order  of  translating  Uigurian,  Thibetan,  Persian,  and  Arabic  books  into  the  Mon- 
golian language.  One  of  the  Mongolian  princes  wrote  a  history  of  the  eastern 
Mongolians,  Russia  included. 

It  was  at  the  very  time  when  the  papal  power  under  Innocent  III  stood  in  its  zenith,  y^^^  popery  was  in  its 
daring  to  put  England  under  interdict,  that  the  Mongolian  empire  was  put  under  the  spir-  prime,  the  Dalai  Lama 
itual  power  of  the  Dalai-Lama.    Khan  Batu,  grandson  of  Dgengis,  foiled  in  his  conquest  of  of  the  Mongolian 
the  world  upon  the  Wahlstatt  near  Liegnitz,  instituted  the  Asiatic  pope  at  the  head  of  all  the  <i««»'o'°»i-  S  i^»- 

Buddhistic  Lamas,  that  his  monarchy  might  secure  its  perpetuity  through  religious  prestige, 
through  the  control  over  Buddhism  by  means  of  this  pope  as  his  tool.    This  was  in  the  year  ^^  accomplished 
1260  A.  D.,  the  same  year  in  which  the  western  pope  had  to  flee  from  Rome  to  Viterbo  before  advised  Fr^erick  n, 
Frederick's  son  Manfred.    Khan  Batu  had  done  what  the  caliph  of  Cordova  had  advised  *°  ^°-  ^  '*^- 

Frederick  II  to  do.    But  Frederick,  Barbarossa's  grandson,  had  sense  enough  to  see  that  the 
Occident  would  not  submit  to  the  idea  of  the  spiritual  and  secular  powers  being  wielded  by  Thought  of  Germanic- 
one  hand.    The  Christian  thought  of  freedom,  not  realisable  unless  the  two  powers  are  kept  Christian 
separate,  was  more  powerful  than  the  greatest  conquerors.  But  the  Orient  submitted.    What  ft^oi^r^toan  the 
Frederick  II  had  declined,  the  Mongolian  Khan  accomplished:  the  creation  of  a  state-church  greatest  conquerors; 
for  the  sake  of,  and  subservient  to,  the  perpetuance  of  the  policy  of  conquering  all  countries  s^paration"of" 
on  earth.    A  part  of  this  vast  empire — encompassing  China,  Hindostan,  Persia,  etc.,  with  its  political  from 
seats  of  culture  in  Karakorum  and  Samarkand,  in  Agra  and  Delphi,  where  the  grand-moguls  ecclesiastical 
built  their  palaces  and  hoarded  their  jewels— was  the  province  of  Russia,  a  unit  for  the  P*!*^®^* 
first  time. 


354 


Russia  a  province  of  the 
Mongolian  empire. 


Church-state  of  West- 
Rome. 


Stete-church  of  East- 
Rome. 


Process  likely  to  repeat 
itself,  in  which  a 
province  becomes  the 
empire. 

A  dream  like  Napoleon's, 
of  uniting  ecclesiastical 
and  secular  power  in 
one  person,  was 
Mongolian  in  Its 

8178. 


Islam  the  barrier 
frustrating  Russian 
designs. 

Turkish  religio- 
political  prestige. 


Mohammedanism  as  yet 
formidable  in  Russia 

itMlf. 


The  duties 
conferred  upon 
Russia  by  tailing- 

gossession  of  its 
yzantine 
legacy. 

Semitism,  now  in  the 
form  of  Islam, wedged 
in  between  Orient  and 
Occident.  §  60,  61. 


"Half-moon''  between 
the  countries  of  the 
rising  and  the  setting 
sun. 


Islam  had  on  the  whole, 
been  propitious  for  the 
West;  its  task  being 
accomplished  it  is  of  no 
further  purpose. 


RUSSIA'S  DESIGNS.  II  G.  Ch.  X.  §  192. 

Nobody  can  successfully  deny  his  ancestral  lineage;  much  less  can  a  state.  Euro- 
pean popery  had  planted  itself  upon  the  traditions,  pretensions,  and  dreams  of  the 
old  Roman  Csesarism.  The  soil  upon  which  it  grew  transmitted  its  nature  to  the 
plant,  gave  it  a  firm  hold,  and  communicated  to  its  fruits  a  raw,  earthly  taste.  In 
fulfilment  of  the  dream  the  coat  of  mail  was  donned  and  a  daring  attitude  assumed. 
It  is  obvious,  that  Russian  Csesarism  in  like  manner  appropriated  to  itself  the  polit- 
ical traditions  and  dreams,  the  claims  and  aims  of  the  mediaeval  Mongolians.  Once 
there  had  grown  up  a  church-state  on  the  basis  of  western  Rome;  now  there  rises 
before  our  eyes  a  state-church  on  the  ecclesiastical  basis  of  East-Rome,  and  upon  the 
secular  basis  of  Mongolianism.  This  state-church  took  possession  of  the  Byzan- 
tine inheritance  long  ago;  it  will  now  put  forth  the  claims  of  its  political  testament. 
Russia  has  commenced  formidable  litigations,  demanding  and  laying  its  hands  upon 
the  legacy  of  Dgengis  Khan.  The  process  will  repeat  itself,  that  a  province  becomes 
the  empire,  as  it  was  in  the  cases  of  Persia,  of  France,  of  Prussia.  In  keeping  with 
Asiatic  custom  it  will  most  probably  repeat  itself,  that  secular  and  ecclesiastical 
power  will  be  united  in  one  man.  Napoleon  more  than  harbored  this  idea;  foiled  in 
its  execution  through  the  expedition  to  Russia,  he  as  much  as  prognosticated  that 
Russia  would  carry  it  out.  The  czars  seem  to  have  their  hands  at  it,  and  skillfully  to 
manipulate  the  fulfilment  of  the  Mongolian  dream. 

^  192.  To  be  sure,  Islam  has  as  yet  some  power  left  to  thwart  such  designs.  The 
modern  Othman  dominion  may  be  compared  to  the  stony  deposit  of  a  moraine, 
gliding  down  from  the  heights  of  Central- Asia  to  the  Danube  and  the  Adriatic  gulf. 
Turkey  furnishes  an  example  of  slower  migratory  movements.  In  this  case  the 
masses  are  pushing,  glacier-like,  from  the  Gobi  to  Eastern  Europe. 

This  Turanian  moraine  is  interspersed  to  its  whole  extent  with  miracle-working  graves, 
and  dotted  with  sacred  centers  for  pilgrimages.  Mecca  attracts  the  believers  from  Celebes  to 
the  Niger. 

From  Bokhara  to  Stambul,  the  strongholds  of  Ishmaelite  sanctimoniousness,  there  issues 
forth  wild  fanaticism  combined  with  that  heinous  superstition  which  uses  Koran-passages  for 
amulets  and  as  fetishes.  We  find  it  thus  in  Delhi  as  in  Morocco.  A  hierarchical  priesthood 
with  its  agencies  of  monasteries  and  Fakeer  villages  is  still  influential  enough  to  fan  the 
fanaticism  of  olden  times  into  the  rage  of  an  extensive  conflagration.  Even  in  Russia  proper 
Mohammedanism  holds  its  own.  The  Emir  of  Bokhara  keeps  the  muftis  and  mollahs  within  his 
territories  as  strictly  as  ever  in  obeisance  to  the  great  prophet. 

Instruments  of  torture  are  still  in  use  in  his  religious  judicatories,  altho  Russia  indeed 
now  and  then  interferes  with  that  custom.  With  firm  step  Mohammedanism  advances  among 
the  hordes  of  the  shamanistic  Kirgheese,  proceeding  from  Kasan  and  Ohrenburg  in  the 
North,  and  from  Chiwa  and  Buchara  in  the  South. 

At  all  these  places  the  Slavs  under  Russian  rule  stand  face  to  face  with  a  difii- 
cult  task.  The  Byzantine  legacy  imposes  the  duty  upon  the  heirs,  to  j)ay  home  the 
arrearages,  during  the  process  of  which  Byzantium  had  become  insolvent  when  the 
Palseologi  succumbed  to  the  crescent. 

Again  Semitism,  now  in  the  form  of  Islam,  had  wedged  itself  between  the 
Orient  and  the  Occident,  and  had  split  the  East-Rome  empire  in  two.  Prior  to  this 
event  the  occidental  influence  reached  to  the  boundary  line  of  China.  The  two  cir- 
cles of  West  Aryan  and  Mongolian  cultures  had  almost  touched  each  other  at  the 
period,  when  both  China  and  Rome  enjoyed  the  widest  extent  of  their  empires.  As 
far  as  Trapezunt  Rome's  dominion  was  unquestioned,  and  from  thence  its  merchants 
spread  Roman  superiority  to  the  Sererians  in  the  Tarim-basin,  who  on  their  part  stood 
under  Chinese  supremacy.  Just  then  the  crescent,  the  "half -moon,"  suddenly  pushed 
itself  between  the  countries  of  the  rising  and  the  setting  sun. 

The  western  world  has  ever  since  been  shut  off  from  the  Orient  as  by  an  iron  bar. 
Islam  thus  assisted  materially  in  the  consolidation  of  the  Occident  under  the  tapering 
power  of  Romanism.  Islam,  furthermore,  in  closing  the  roads  to  China  and  India, 
caused  the  Europeans  to  direct  their  attention  to  the  oceans  and  tlieir  highways. 
Thus  giving  the  impulse,  it  was  directly  instrumental  in  the  disclosure  of  a  new 
world,  which  in  turn  caused  the  rejuvenation  of  Europe,  just  at  the  time  when 
it  began  to  show  the  symptoms  of  old  age,  to  weaken  under  its  inertia. 

When  Islam  subjugated  Greece,  the  distribution  of  the  classics  occurred  at  the 
right  moment,  Europe  being  ready  just  then  to  take  up  the  humanistic  studies. 


n  G.  Ch.  X.  §  192.      RUSSIA'S  PROSPECTS  FOR  THE  XXTH  CENTURY.  355 

Islam  carried  its  terrors  to  the  gates  of  Vienna  just  in  time  to  relieve  the  religious  reformation  Russia's  task  to  push 
of  its  perils,  and  to  give  it  a  chance  to  establish  itself  among  the  Germans.     It  appears  that  TuraVo^-LmuisL. 
Turano-Semitism  in  the  form  of  Islam  has  served  the  ends  for  which  it  was  appointed 
by  the  purposes  of  history  under  divine  guidance.    And  now  it  also  appears  that 
Russia  is  designed  to  push  back  the  iron  bar  of  Islam  and  to  force  an  opening  for 
direct  railway  connection  with  every  part  of  Asia. 

The  annexation  of  Siberia  was  of  little  avail  in  relieving  Europe  from  the  Turk-  Merv  taken. 
ish  obstacle.    But  now,  since  Russia  has  taken  Goek-Tepe  it  has  a  fulcrum  in  Central 
Asia,  where  it  can  rest  the  lever  for  prying  open  the  rusty  gate  of  Tatary.    It  is  g^^  ^epe  upon  the 
but  recently  that  with  the  occupation  of  Merv  the  Turkmenians  were  made  Russian  K^Mongoiun" "^  *** 
subjects,  and  already  Merv  and  its  vicinity  up  to  Herat  is  completely  Russified.  Just  «xciusiveness. 
now  the  Tekkinzians  have  been  vanquished.    One  large  district  after  another— filled 
with  a  warring,  nomadic  population,  fluctuating  hither  and  thither  as  aimlessly  as  the  Russia's  quiet 
sand-drif tings  of  their  steppes— is  drawn  into  the  network  of  European  culture,  advamfin^^^^^^' 
which  Russia  immediately  spreads  over  its  new  possessions. 

It  is  remarkable  how  Russia  understands  managing  these  Mongolians,  and  how  little 
they  resist  the  subjection  to  European  forms  of  political  organisation.  A  new  order  of  things 
has  been  pushed  forward  from  the  Aral  and  Caspian  Sea  to  the  Pamir  regions  of  old  with- 
out much  ado.  Upon  canals  and  railroads  Russian  cavalry  and  cannons  and  craftsmen  are  con- 
veyed to  the  Orient.  In  place  of  the  felt-tents  and  earth-huts  of  Turkmenian  auls,  cities  arise  Railroad  construction. 
built  of  brick  and  lined  with  asphalt  pavements.  Where  camels  as  yet  carry  the  rolls  of  silk 
from  Bokhara  and  Samarkand,  electric  cars  will  ere  long  take  charge  of  the  transport  and 
will  by  express  deliver  Asiatic  goods  in  western  villages:  carpets  from  China,  shawls  from 
Kashmeer,  silk-plush  and  gold- embroidered  brocades  from  Bokhara,  across  the  Volga  and 
Vistula.  In  the  meantime  the  project  of  the  Siberian-Paciflc-Sitka-Seattle  railroad  will  ap- 
proach its  realisation  without,  perhaps,  much  ostentation.  Russia's  prospects  for 
?  i-            f  1                                                                                                                                  ^jjg  xxth  century. 

The  xxth  century  will  behold  the  opening  of  a  grand  view. 

For  when  Samarkand  with  its  golden  cupolas,  when  the  old  seat  of  Tamerlane 
shall  once  have  become  the  summer  residence  of  the  emperor  of  Central-Asia  and 
Russia,  then  the  partition  wall  of  Islam,  encumbering  the  relations  between  Europe  Russia's  qualification. 
and  Asia,  will  be  laid  low.  And  not  before  will  the  world  have  guaranty  for  the 
security  of  the  overland  route  to  the  Pacific,  for  which  the  Russian  outpost  on  the 
mouth  of  the  Amur  is  not  sufficient. 

Where  in  bygone  times  the  Turkish  rulers  sat  reclining  upon  soft  divans  under 
golden  canopies,  at  the  foot  of  the  rocky  and  high  Altai-Mountains  and  on  the  Amu 
river,  Russia  has  now  taken  command,  and  the  sphere  of  her  authority  is  continually  hinder  ^Russla^rom  ""^ 
widening.    Facts  begin  to  verify  our  supposition,  that  only  the  Slavonic  form  of  gov-  astif  Asla**"*^*"*^^"^' 
ernment,  as  embodied  in  the  czar,  is  adapted  to  force  the  Mongolians  into  social 
order.    To  spread  Germanic  culture  it  takes  the  colonising  industry  of  many  people; 
but  the  Slavs  can  best  accomplish  their  mission  in  Asia  under  the   direction  of  a 
single  leader.    Where  labor  is  undivided,  and  the  organism  is  not  differentiated  as 
yet,  the  masses,  resembling  a  unit  of  mere  physical  force,  are  set  in  motion  by  one 
single  will;  and  to  unorganised  masses  without  a  leader  an  attack  from  such  a  force 
is  irresistible.    Hence  our  conclusion,  that  the  mechanism  of  Russian  autocratic  Romanic  and 
rule  is  specially  qualified  for  the  task  of  compressing  the  Mongolian  hordes.    And  Germanic 
indeed  it  looks  now  as  if  the  single  will  of  the  czar  is  engaged  chiefly  with  the  re-  their?ead^ei5hip 
establishment  of  the  old  Mongolian  empire  under  a  new  form.    His  hand  has  taken  advance^^^ 
a  firm  hold  of  China  and  Merv,  of  Kiachta  on  the  Selenga  river,  of  Nicolajewsk  on 
the  Amur,  and  of  Pamir.    Resembling  a  pair  of  iron  tongs  with  pinchers  open 
towards  the  south,  the  Russian  grip  is  silently  extending,  and  we  see  no  European 
power  able  to  frustrate  its  designs.    The  force  at  work  in  the  triangle  Moscow-Ba- 
toom-Samarkand  is  apt  to  change  the  map  of  Asia.    If  Russia  should  be  barred  from 
capturing  Constantinople,  Bagdad  would  be  bound  to  take  its  place. 

Following  the  surview  of  the  Slavonic  power,  which  preponderates  in  the  East  by  virtue 
of  its  national  disposition,  we  are  led  from  the  Vistula  back  to  the  old  home  of  the  nations  in 
Central- Asia,  where  the  successor  of  the  great  khans  recently  planted  his  standard  upon  the 
"roof  of  the  world"  from  whence  we  took  our  first  survey.  It  is  evident  that  Russia  conducts 
history  back  to  the  regions  from  whence  history  set  out,  if  we  witness  how  its  influence 
already  reaches  into  the  "empire  of  the  middle". 

Here  history  calls  us  to  return  to  the  Romanic  and  Germanic  nations  in  order  to  take  a 
glance  upon  the  "new  world",  and  there  to  observe  how  the  closing  of  the  circle  approaches 
completion. 


356 


American  civilisation. 


II  G.  Ch.  X.  §  193. 


France  mentally 
arrested  at  the  stage  of 
culture  in  time  of 
Louis  XIV. 


Italy  fell  behind  the 
time  of  the  renaissance. 


Germany  had  always 
many  centers  of 
learning; 


but  for  ages  was  under 
political  predicaments. 


America 
outrivaling 
Europe  in 
leading-  the 
march  of 
civilisation. 

Hegel. 
Pescukl 


Decline  of  Europe  will 
not  accrue  to  the 
elevation  of  North- 
America. 


Whimisical  controversies 
a*  to  future  conditions. 


Ethical  powers 
decide  future 
welfare. 

Since  humanism 
prevailed  in  the 
Protestant  North  of 
either  continent, 
higher  culture  proceeds 

from  North  to 
South 

from  Germanic  to 
Romanised  nations. 


Real  dangers  of 

American 

civilisation. 

JOSIAH  StROITO  . 

"Our  Country." 


Conditions  under  which 
the  dangers  may  be 
averted. 


§  193.  It  seems  as  tho  we  ought  to  be  able  now,  to  point  out  what  countries  in 
Africa  or  elsewhere  are  left  to  the  Romanic  nations  for  tutelage.  But  excepting  the 
contribution  of  colonial  products  to  the  markets  of  the  world,  the  value  of  their  cul- 
tivation does  not  amount  to  much.  How  could  it  be  otherwise,  since  even  the  Romanic 
people  in  Europe  became  arrested  in  their  mental  culture  at  that  stage  of  spiritual 
development  which  had  been  reached  by  scholasticism  and  the  mediaeval  troubadours^ 
upon  that  stage  which  France  occupied  at  the  time  of  Louis  XIV?  We  find  the 
Italians  to  have  fallen  behind  from  where  they  stood  in  the  period  of  the  renaissance. 
It  aeems  to  us  a  plain  fact  that  the  initiative  in  cultural  advance  has  passed  from  the 
Romanic  to  the  Germanic  nations. 

The  Germans  had  their  first  period  of  literary  productiveness  under  the  Hohen- 
staufifens,  and  afterwards  had  always  numerous  centers  of  learning  where  the 
mind  was  cultivated  in  its  various  functions.  Never  has  any  single  city  been  able  to 
represent  or  control  the  intellectual  aspirations  or  achievements  of  the  entire  nation 
in  such  a  measure,  as  is  said  of  Paris,  for  instance,  that  it  stands  for  France.  After 
the  Reformation  first  Holland,  for  a  short  season,  and  then  England,  took  the  lead, 
leaving  Germany  behind  under  its  embarrassments  of  dogmatical  controversies  and 
political  predicaments.  After  a  long  pause  of  mental  stupor  and  literary  inferiority 
Germany  revived,  however,  and  both  countries  carried  mental  and  industrial  energy 
and  the  sense  of  liberty  across  the  ocean.  There  the  "new  world"  evolved  under  trying 
hardships  and  mighty  exertions. 

Hegel,  not  Greeley  was  the  first  in  saying :  "History  ever  advances  from  east  to  west ;  as 
it  began  in  Asia,  so  it  ends  in  Europe".  The  idea  that  North-America  is  emulating,  yea,  out- 
rivaling Europe's  leadership  in  the  march  of  civilisation  did  not  strike  Hegel.  Only  what  he 
said  of  the  westward  movement  was  corroborated  and  amended  by  Peschel  where  he  says  in 
his  ethnology  that ;  "Europe  is  under  the  meridian  of  its  civilisation,  whilst  over  yonder  in 
the  United  States  the  morning  dawns".  The  cultural  significance  of  Europe  may  eventually 
partake  of  the  transiency  which  is  the  fate  of  all  earthly  objects  of  pride  and  plight.  In  such 
a  general  way  this  conclusion  seems  as  reasonable  as  it  flatters  the  Anglo-Saxon  kinsfolks. 
But  a  parallel  drawn  to  insinuate  that  the  decline  of  Europe  should  accrue  to  the  elevation 
of  North  America  will  sound  a  little  preposterous  to  the  Americans  themselves. 

It  has  been  said  of  North  America  that  the  magnitude  of  its  coal  fields  surpasses  that  of 
Europe  five  times.  This  would  indicate  poor  prospects  for  the  future  of  Europe,  since  its 
industry  necessarily  would  slacken,  and  it  would  become  unable  to  keep  up  competition  in 
the  markets  of  the  world.  In  the  same  way  it  has  been  argued,  on  the  other  side,  that  the 
irrational  mode  of  farming  and  forestry  would  exhaust  the  resources  of  America  in  a  com- 
paratively much  shorter  time.  But  it  is  plain,  in  the  first  place,  that  other  powers  than  coal- 
fires  may  be  put  into  service  in  Europe  by  the  time  its  coals  give  out— waterpower  for 
instance  being  now  transmitted  over  large  distances.  Moreover  does  the  fate  of  nations  not 
depend  upon  such  calculations,  for  there  are,  after  all,  the  ethical  powers  which  decide 
questions  as  to  the  future. 

In  Europe  the  civilising  movement  originally  went  from  the  south  to  the  north, 
from  the  Romanised  to  the  German  nations.  But  since  the  thought  of  humanism  has 
prevailed  among  the  western  Aryans  in  that  profundity  to  which  the  Reformation 
penetrated,  the  predominant  influences  drift  in  the  reverse  direction.  This  becomes 
especially  manifest  on  the  new  continent,  where  the  higher  culture  proceeds  from 
the  north  to  the  south. 

It  is  possible  that  the  culture  even  of  the  United  States  may  suffer  disaster  on 
account  of  a  superficial  mode  of  thinking,  and  the  self  sufficiency  of  wealth;  or  if  the 
management  of  politics,  through  indifference  toward  religion  and  lack  of  vigilance, 
comes  into  the  wiles  of  ecclesiastical  diplomacy,  with  its  Roman  purposeness  and  its 
antagonism  against  this  particular  form  of  culture.  But  tho  these  dangers  be  immi- 
nent of  which  Josiah  Strong  has  warned  "Our  country,"  yet  a  prophecy  of  the  over- 
throw of  the  constitutional  principles  of  the  United  States  would  certainly  be  put  to 
shame;  and  an  attempt  at  that  would  come  to  grief.  The  alarm  has  been  given,  and 
Roman  craftiness  will  most  likely  be  defeated,  when  the  Americans  of  the  north  re- 
member that  their  civilisation  is  not  based  upon  technical  progress  and  not  upon  the 
precedents  of  Mexican  polity ,  but  upon  the  ethical  and  at  bottom  religious  pro- 
paedeutics of  the  free  nation. 

In  the  new  nation  the  successive  stages  of  political  development  exist  side  by  side 
from  hunting  and  pastural  pursuits  to  agricultural,  industrial  and  commercial  occupations, 
from  nomandic  life  to  one  in  a  social  organism.     From  the  outset  the  country  was  covered 


II  G.  CH.  X.  §  194.        TASK  OF  THE  ABYANS  IN  THBEE  PARTS  OF  THE  WORLD.  357 

with  a  variety  of  colonial  and  municipal  orgranisations;  all  forms  of  government  were  toler-  ^''"i^"?®"**  "' 
ated  except  the  monarchical,  which  was  not  to  the  taste  of  the  Quakers  and  Puritans.    Hence  civilisation. 
the  English  and  French  cavaliers  could  not  succeed  in  transplanting  their  accustomed  social 
forms  upon  these  shores;  neither  could  the  HoUandish  patricians.    But  otherwise  all  the 
sociological  phenomena  ever  promulgated  in  history  appear  in  a  process  of  mutual  pervasion 
and  amalgamation.    In  jurisprudence  we  meet  with  axioms  of  the  pandects,  with  traces  of 
the  canonic  laws  of  Rome,  with  feudal  rights,  with  the  principles  of  the  Saxen-Spiegel,  and 
remnants  of  Spanish  casuistry.  Most  obvious  are  the  effects  of  the  theocratic  ideas  of  Geneva; 
and  of  the  democratic  predilections  of  the  Saxons.    But  neither  the  cosmopolitan  republican- 
ism of  the  Quakers,  nor  the  aristocratic  feudalism  of  Romanists  and  royalists  has  become 
obsolete.    Of  lasting  effect  have  become  the   municipal  selfgovernment  of  the  Dutch  and 
the  subjectivism  of  the  Germans;  the  slavery  of  Africa ;  the  anarchism  of  French  and  Polish 
radicalism,  and  the  nomade-life  of  Italian  and  Chinese  miners,  not  to  speak  of  the  Indians.  Qj^^  great 
On  the  whole  the  new  nation  forming  itself  was  gradually  permeated  by  one  great  thought,  thought 
which  had  composed  the  constitution,  and  OB  account  of  which  that  fundamental  agreement  affiliating  all 
is  held  in  universal  esteem ;  which  grants  free  play  to  every  moral  power,  especially  to  that  elenfents."^*'" 
of   Gospel  truth.     To   a   stranger   this   composition    of    the   national   character   of    "the" 
Americans  appears  as  a  perplexing  medley,  unpleasant  for  a  mind  accustomed  to  conserva- 
tism, unpleasant  on  account  of  the  extremes  meeting,  and  of  the  dark  shadows  thrown.     Yet 
the  nation  of  the  Union  is  an  unit  for  all  that,  bearing  a  pronounced  stamp  of  specific  charac- 
teristics ;  assimilating  foreign  matters  of  preference  through  strong  digestive  organs — whilst 
neutralising   and  ostracising  unwelcome  influxes.      The  United  States  as  an  unit  is  now        ,     . 
getting  ready  to  exert  the  molding  influences  of  her  peaceable  policy  upon  the  southern  south  into  line  with  the 
republics  in  order  to  unify  the  new  world  socially,  and  to  cultivate  the  cohesiveness  which  humanistic  cause. 
conditions  the  prosperity  of  commercial  enterprises. 

[a  the  new  world  the  Germanic  nations  have  stood  the  test  of  their  superior  abil- 
ities for  educating  humanity.  So  far  they  have  surpassed  the  efficiency  of  Romanis- 
tic  world-consciousness,  altho  on  the  whole  America  as  yet  needs  to  be  guarded  SpeVupoTMextcT 
against  the  Roman  aspirations,  and  to  prepare  for  a  final  contest  with  Roman 
perseverance.  In  as  far  as  the  Andalusians  occupied  Mexico,  we  there  find 
Moorish  characteristics  predominant  to  this  day.  The  traveler,  whose  experience 
and  acuteness  of  observation  enables  him  to  draw  the  comparison,  is  impressed  with 
everyday  life  on  the  streets  of  Mexican  cities,  as  if  he  were  transported  back  to 
Damaskus  or  Tunis.  Central  and  South  America  wait  for  the  transforming  influences 
of  the  northern  states. 

§  194.    The  effects  of  Romanism  upon  Africa  demonstrate  the  dwindling  away  of  ^^^^^  ^^  Romanism 
the  historical  significance  of  Spain  and  Portugal;  for  the  future  work  of  elevating  upon  Africa. 
the  inhabitants  of  their  possessions,  but  faint  hopes  can  be  entertained.    So  do  the 
French  disappoint  the  expectations  of  the  people  from  Algiers  and  Madagascar  to  colonies  labor 
Tonquin,  who  were  forced  to  accept  their  "protection".  All  the  Romanised  "colonies"  3i^J^i*||  ^"™® 
suffer  the  same  deficiency  as  do  the  states  ruling  over  them;  they  have  not  gone  their  respective 
through  the  process  of  religious  reform;  Africa,  almost  entirely  without  any  history,  "heyTa^e^not™^' 
will  be  rendered  historical  only  through  the  culture  of  the  northern  nations,  through  gone  through 
the  Germanic  leaven,  which  England,  the  Netherlands  and  the  Germans  are  now  re?igi^ous?eformt 
endeavoring  to  mix  into  the  masses  of  the  dark  continent. 

The  line  Sansibar-Calcutta-Bangkok-Sidney  is  under  the  supervision  of  England.         c«    -k 

D'Israeli  intended  to  make  Queen  Victoria  not  merely  empress  of  India.    He  had  si^dney  und^r ' 
still  greater  projects  in  view.    He  was  in  hopes  that  Persia,  Afghanistan,  and  Pales-  En&i^si»  «way. 
tine  might  be  added  to  the  crown,  by  which  acquisitions  the  basis  for  further  oper- 
ations in  the  Pacific  was  to  be  strengthened.  The  attention  of  all  the  maritime  powers 
of  the  Occident  is  now  bent  upon  this  basin  over  which  the  ethnical  movement  of  his- 
tory returns  to  its  place  of  beginning. 

When  the  English  connected  India  with  the  Occident,  the  obstructions  were  almost  over- 
come with  which  Islam  had  impeded  the  communication  between  the  Indo-Germanic  rela-  cleared  out  of*the^^y 
tives.    As  the  bulwarks  of  Mohammedanism  are  crumbling  along  the  Slavonic  inroad  from  »t  humanistic  progress 
Moscow  to  Samarkand,  so  are  the  Turks  retrenched  along  the  English  highway  Cairo-Cal- 
cutta. Line  Moscow- 

In  the  wondrous  land  of  India  the  locomotive  flings  aside  prejudices  of  most  ancient  u^^gr  Russian 
standing.     The  Indian  princes,  whose  dignity  required  that  one  seeking  audience  had  to  gway. 
wait  hours  and  days  for  admittance,  are  enuring  themselves  to  the  punctuality  of  the  clock  in 
the  railroad  depot.    The  rigid  caste-ceremonials  are  gradually  discarded ;  members  of  differ-  ^^t'^*»  «»i  "«»«« 'ipo'^ 
ent  castes  travel  in  the  same  cabins.      Marquis  Belhousie's  plan  to  construct  a  railroad  sys- 
tem with  8000  miles  of  track  is  nearly  carried  out.     Ninety-four  per  cent  of  the  subaltern  offi-  Jf^nsformation  renders 
cers  of  the  roads  are  natives.    India  thus  undergoes  a  rapid  transformation,  which,  however,  Britain's  Asiatic  success 
if  continuing  in  the  same  rate  of  progression,  will  make  it  difficult  for  England  to  maintain 
India  as  the  basis  of  its  eastern  policy. 


358 

"Eastjsrn 
question" 
approaching-  its 
crisis  in  China. 


Problem  of  Chinese 
immigration  and 
Japanese  import. 


Series  of  flre-signals 
augmented  by  the 
storming  of  Peking. 

§  54,  154 


Slavs  and  Indo-Germans 
encircle  Interior  Asia. 


China  forced  to 
compromise,  but 
hardly  into 
acceptance  of 
Christianity. 


Modem  culture 
engrafted  immediatly 
upon  crudest  barbarism, 
wherein  Russia  is 
particularly  skillful. 


Asia  the  Russian 
empire  of  the 
future. 


Mongolian  substratum 
comprising  all  islands| 
and  shores  of  the 
Pacific. 


DISINTEGRATION  OF  THE  MONGOLIAN  ETHNICAL  LUMP.      11  Gr.  CH.  X.  §  195. 

The  final  decision  of  the  Eastern  question  lies  in  the  dominion  of  the  Eastern 
Mongolians.  The  die  will  be  cast,  where,  in  the  harem  of  the  "heavenly  empire", 
filled  with  the  daughters  of  the  Mantchoos,  the  ruler  over  the  fourth  part  of  the  earth's 
inhabitants  sits  enthroned  upon  the  oldest  seat  of  absolute  monarchism. 

China  is  a  human  reservoir  whose  dam  is  overflowing  with  the  emigrants  of  that  most 
prolific  race.  The  danger  of  their  submerging  the  Pacific  coast  has  already  been  vividly  felt 
in  Washington. 

As  of  yore,  in  repeated  torrents,  the  Mongolians  rushed  forth  over  the  western  steppes 
until  they  were  repulsed  by  the  spiritual  superiority  of  the  Germans ;  so  Chinese  coolies  are 
transported  in  swarms  across  the  Pacific  toward  their  East  of  old.  Extremely  cunning,  and 
satisfied  with  the  lowest  and  most  meagre  bill  of  fare,  they  contrive  to  push  themselves  into 
California ;  just  as  in  ages  past,  Mongolian  population  had  taken  the  same  outlets  when  they 
inundated  Peru  as  easily  as  Java.  The  present  movement  reminds  us  of  the  driftings  of  Azte- 
cian-Toltecian  influxes  into  America,  but  also  demonstrates,  how  history  closes  its  cyclical 
courses  in  the  regions  from  whence  it  set  out.  Upon  the  strength  of  these  facts  our  inference 
is  justified,  that  the  final  issues  may  be  determined  in  the  same  parts.  For  this  reason  we 
think,  that  the  series  of  fire-signals  and  pillaged  cities  of  Nineveh  and  Persepolis,  Carthage 
and  Corinth,  Jerusalem  and  Alexandria,  Rome  and  Byzantium,  Moscow  and  Delhi,  was  com- 
pleted by  the  storming  of  the  imperial  summer  residence  in  Peking  A.  D.  1860. 

In  the  center  of  the  extensive  gardens,  dotted  with  hundreds  of  kiosks,  stood  the  official 
pagoda  which  contained  a  gigantic  statue  of  Buddha,  decked  with  treasures  of  gold  and  pre- 
cious stones.  Images  of  demi-gods— or  of  the  one  altogether  Bad  represented  by  the  emblem 
of  the  dragon,  wrought  from  costly  metals— stood  in  every  nook  and  niche,  encircled  with 
flowers  and  colored  candles.  The  stupefying  vapors  of  narcotic  incense  ascended  from  .the 
altars ;  the  hanging  lanterns  shed  their  weird  lustre  through  the  gloomy  hall— when  the  con- 
querors rushed  in :  a  portentous  event,  When  Europe  thus  penetrated  into  the  center  of 
proverbial  seclusion,  and  desecrated  the  hitherto  impregnable  stronghold  of  religio-political 
mysteriousness  and  idolatry,  it  put  its  foot  upon  the  neck  of  its  oldest  antagonist  in  his  cen- 
tral lair. 

Upon  the  most  remote  eastern  shore,  western  civilisation  planted  the  emblem  of 
the  new  sera— designating,  most  probably,  the  beginning  of  the  last  cycle  of  historic 
movement,  and  the  incipient  consummation  of  universal  history. 

Slavs  and  Indo-Germans  encircle  Asia,  one  party  arriving  by  the  northern  route 
of  Siberia,  the  others  by  way  of  India:  both  meeting  in  the  "Empire  of  the  Middle". 
That  China  ever  will  play  a  prominent  part,  or  become  copartner  in  the  work  of  uni- 
versal civilisation  is  out  of  the  question.  The  indications  are,  that  China,  notwith- 
standing its  applying  the  technical  skill  of  English  engineers,  and  the  military 
training  of  German  instructors  in  the  art  of  modern  warfare,  will  be  necessitated  to 
enter  into  compromises  with  nations  which,  like  that  of  Japan,  it  held  in  contempt. 
China  is  compelled  to  adapt  itself  to  European  means  of  seltprotection,  whilst 
most  likely  it  will  prove  unfit  to  accommodate  itself  to  the  religious  consciousness  of 
the  civilised  nations.  It  will  be  compelled  not  so  much  by  the  "invasions  of  the  red 
bristled  barbarians,"  as  by  the  steady  approaches  of  Russia. 

Of  what  little  avail  it  was  that  China  was  busily  engaged  in  constructing  routes  of  quick 
transit  for  her  armies,  and  in  building  fortifications  at  all  the  strategic  points  along  the 
Mantchoorian  boundaries,  has  become  evident  in  her  last  defeat  by  the  Japanese.  The  great 
empire  of  China  must  follow  the  example  of  the  not  less  important  empire  of  the  Mikado,  in 
engrafting  modern  culture  directly  upon  its  time-worn  institutions.  Russia  has  become 
expert  in  doing  the  same  thing  every  day,  in  planting  European  civilisation  directly 
upon  the  crudest  barbarism.  This  proves  that  Russia,  obtruding  its  rule  upon  the  Baltic 
provinces  in  the  same  manner  as  upon  Khiwa,  that  is,  by  means  of  its  church— is  well  adapted 
for  the  subjection  of  Asia,  since  at  bottom  her  rule  is  Asiatic,  is  Mongolian. 

\Mioever  seizes  the  Pamir-regions  possesses  the  key  to  Asia.  From  thence  the 
nations  descended  into  the  countries  below,  and  the  power  occupying:  these  positions 
will  have  little  difiiculty  in  sallying  forth  from  the  same  outlets,  and  in  carrying  its 
victories  down  the  same  valleys.  Hence  our  belief,  that  the  greater  part  of  Asia  will 
form  the  Russian  empire  of  the  future,  that  is,  Asia  will  be  itself  again. 

§  195  We  have  been  led  back  to  the  Uralo- Altaic  and  Mongolo-Malayan  nations 
which  we  found  to  constitute  the  broadest  and  deepest  layer  of  the  ethnical  strata  at 
the  beginning  of  history.  And  as  these  nations  in  prehistoric  times  covered  the  en- 
tire face  of  the  earth,  so  does  history  now  encircle  the  globe.  The  coasts  of  the  Pacific 
upon  which  the  great  prehistoric  migrations  are  traceable,  are  again  drawn  into  the 
general  concurrence  of  historical  movements.  China  and  the  Farther  Indias,  severed 
from  the  other  members  of  the  human  family  through  thousands  of  years,  become 


n  G.  CH.  X.  §  195.  MONGOLIAN  REMNANTS  AROUND  THE  PACITIC.  359 

reunited  for  participating  in  common  blessings  and  in  common  work.     China's  Proofs  for  the  «iomatic 
literature,  the  most  ancient  of  all  literary  productions,  was  founded— as  we  agree  mÖSuhs  to*be^ 
with  Gabelentz— anterior  to  3000  B.  C.    When  the  knowledge  of  this  literature  will  iK'^re^ToMng'"'" 
have  been  made  accessible,  we  will  most  likely  obtain  documentary  proof  of  that  orig-  ^""^  ^  ^^  ^g^blotz. 
inal  civilisation  which  the  nations  took  along  to  their  isolated  abodes  upon  the  isles 
and  distant  shores  of  the  Pacific.    What  ancient  relics  have  suggested  to  us  respect- 
ing the  first  circle  of  nations  and  their  degree  of  culture,  will  become  verified  when 
we  come  once  more  to  view  those  localities  under  the  light  of  historic  purposiveness 
at  the  consummation  of  affairs  in  general.    Let  us  review  the  indications  of  culture  Review 

"^  of  present 

in  the  ethnical  substratum  enumerated,  under  the  light  of  present  ascertainments,  ascertainmente:^  ^  ^^ 

The  Turanian,  Ügro-Finnian,  and  the  Mongolians  in  chief  we  called  the  ethni- 
cal substratum  of  historic  humanity.    We  perceived  them  to  constitute  the  largest 
and  most  peripheral  circle  of  the  nations.    On  returning  to  them  the  development 
of  history— beginning  in  the  Mediterranean  basin  and  extending  from  thence  to  the 
Atlantic,  and  finally  to  the  Pacific  ocean— presents  itself  in  the  definite  outlines  of 
the  compass.    Undoubtedly  the  first  commotions  on  a  large  scale  took  place  upon  the 
Pacific,  the  waters  of  which  were  up  to  the  last  century  covered  with  the  impenetrable 
darkness  of  prehistoric  times.  Still  fewer  traces  of  these  can  be  expected  in  the  coun- 
tries where  from  earliest  historic  times  onward  culture   after  culture  covered  the  SrS  scTÄk'piace* 
nethermost  layer.    Foundations  hidden  in  the  depth  of  the  earth  are  rendered  less  "^'"'  *****  ^'^'**'' 
explorable,  the  more  extensive  and  complete  the  structure  becomes  which  is  reared 
upon  them.  From  these  obscure  depths  but  few  and  faint  tokens  have  been  brought 
to  light.   They  are  sufficient,  nevertheless,  to  establish  the  truth  of  the  primitive  unity 
and  continuity  of  historical  beginnings  in  those  parts  of  the  world. 

"The  whole  of  America"— we  say  with  Ratzel— "participates  in  the  palseontological  char-  paiaeontoiogicai 
acter  of   Polynesia  and  Northern  Asia".    America  was  the  eastern  part  of  the  Mongolian  character  of  America 
domain  "closely  connected  with  all  the  nations  around  the  Pacific".    The  Spanish  discoveries 
in  Mexico  in  1517  A.  D.,  are  inexplicable  unless  viewed  in  relation  to  that  paiaeontoiogicai  unit 
of  which  they  form  the  parts.    In  Honduras,  Yucatan,  and  Guatemala  the  tall  monolith 
figures  of  the  Maja  became  objects  of  curiosity,  and  in  Uxmal  and  Palenque  entire  edifices  Discoveries  in  Mexico 
were  found.    The  latter  were  recognised  at  first  sight  as  witnesses  of  remotest  antiquity,  for  Honduras,  Yucatan,  and 
forests  thousands  of  years  old  had  grown  over  and  around  them.    Fra  Lorenzo   de  Bienven-      lorenzo^de  Bienyenido. 
ido  wrote  to  his  king  that  "they  must  be  considered  as  having  been  existing  before  the  time 
of  Christ,  since  the  trees  covering  the  structures  are  as  large  as  those  in  the  countries  below." 
The  inhabitants  at  the  times  of  the  conquest,  descendants,  perhaps,  of  the  builders,  con- 
structed their  houses  of  wood,  straw  and  earth.    At  the  present  stage  of  investigation  we        r  \     ■ 
know  to  what  epoch  of  culture  those  old  sculptures  belong ;  we  find  the  frame  into  which  the  uxma!  and  Palenque, 
relics  of  the  old  Toltecian  art  had  once  been  mounted,  that  culture  which  in  turn  was  amended 
by  the  Aztecs.    We  find  that  Quetzcoatle,  of  tall  stature  and  white  color,  was  the  priest  of  the         ^''"^     Pre-Aztecian. 
Toltecs,  and  we  find  how  he  became  their  god.    Embarking  in  a  wondrous  ship  made  of 
snake- skin  he  had  taken  leave  of  them,  promising  to  return. 

Meagre  as  these  remnants  of  a  vanished  culture  may  be,  they  are  rendered  highly  indie-  Relation  of  American 
ative  by  being  placed  into  their  correlations  with  the  whole.    That  the  remnants  of  this  cul-   jf^tern*Ceyionr^  ° 
ture  form  a  unit  becomes  evident  from  the  ruins  of  ancient  towns  upon  Eastern  Ceylon ;  from  Singalesia,  Kambodsha. 
the  filled  up  channels  of  irrigation  built  by  Singalesian  kings ;  from  the  remnants  of  a  high 
culture  upon  the  Sunda  Islands,  and  from  the  ruins  of  the  ancient  cities  of  Kambodsha. 

Ferguson  esteemed  the  discovery  and  comparison  of  these  remnants  the  most  important 
data  for  the  history  of  oriental  art.    "They  go  far  to  assist  in  disclosing  the  knowledge  of  the 
most  remote  past.    The  stones  of  Farther- India  speak  to  us  of  the  antecedents  of  the  known  Jj^'^'V^^^  °^  Wiang- 
nations.    Wieng-Shank,  capitol  of  the  Laos,  reveals  the  story  of  the  primeval  pagodas  in  our  (Pre-Christian) 

own  countries.    The  groups  of  ruins  in  Angkor,  still  more  plainly  the  ruins  of  the  cloister  of,,      whwt 
Nakhor-Wat,  "resemble  the  Aztec- Toltecian  style  of  architecture."    The  tomb-pagodas  of  the  Bangkor 
old  kings  of  Bangkok,  altho  of  genuine  Siamese  character,  are  very  much  like  the  most  aii  resembling  American 
ancient  castles  and  temples  of  Kambodsha  in  their  ruins.    The  figures  in  the  outer  court  of  vestiges  of  culture. 
the  Siamese  temple  seem  to  look  away  over  the  distances  of  space  and  time  toward  their 
Central  American  colonies.    They  are  the  models  of  that  vanished  splendor  which  the  old  Tonga,  lava,  Tahiti  and 
pyramids  and  terraces  of  Mexico  indicate.    Wienk-Shank  contains  terrace-buildings  which  faster  island.     Bastian. 
date  from  pre-Christian  times.    "This  method  of  building  terrace-pyramids  can  be  distin- 
guished upon  the  island  of  Java,  and  can  be  traced  from  Tonga  to  Tahiti  and  the  Easter  emblematic  gn^ns^' 
Islands,"  said  Bastian  very  recently. 

The  golden  pagoda  of  Sangun  shows  two  guarding  griflSns.  From  the  aspect  of  Mongolo- 
Malayan  culture  as  a  unit  the  significance  of  the  old  golden  throne  of  Burmah,  standing  under  in  the^pyramid'of  "'^™* 
the  eight-story  pyramid  of  Mandelay,  receives  only  now  its  explanation.    It  was  reserved  to   Mandeiay. 
modern  research  to  interpret  that  old  eastern  culture  covered  up  from  time  immemorial. 

The  ethnological  investigations  carried  on  upon  the  Easter  Islands  since  the  German   German  research  upon  , 
admiralty  received  the  reports  of  the  Hyaena-expedition  in  '83,  set  out  from  the  correct     ^ 
premise,  that  upon  this  solitary  island  of  the  Pacific  "important  indications  are  converging 


Semblances  of  the 
Ko-pito-pito. 


Bird  idol  of  Make-Make. 


Quetzcoatl — from 
Mungo  ^Capac  to 
Tltlcaca.  Bastian. 


Animal  masks  of 
Shamanism  in  Ceylon  as 
well  as  Tibet,  Mexico, 
Peru.  Ratzel. 


Primeval  culture  of 
Americu  is  Asiatic 
beyond  a  doubt. 


Mongoloid  elements 
mixed  everywhere  In 
the  substratum  lying 
bare  in  places  to  which 
access  is  yet  to  be 
gained. 


Purposive  march 
of  civilisation 
from  the 
Mediterranean  to 
the  Atlantic  and 
across  the  Pacific 
Ocean. 


It  will  come  to  notice 
what  purport  history 
conveyed  in  this  mode 
of  completing  its 
cycles.  S  180,  218. 


Facilities  of  intercourse 
contract  the  Pacific 
even  to  what  the 
Mediterranean  was  to 
the  Phoenicians, 
Saracens,  and  Normans. 


Sea-ports  of  the  Pacific 
common  property  of  all 
natioDa. 


People  arrested  In  their 
developmeut  received 
Into  the  circle  of 
humanity. 


THREE  MEDITERRANEANS.  11  (x.  CH.  X.  §  1%. 

which  are  apt  to  throw  new  light  upon  the  problems  of  the  prehistoric  antecedents  of  the  two 
continents."  The  colossal  stone  monuments,  as  for  instance  the  idols  upon  tlie  crater  of  Mt. 
Baua-Boraka  are  mostly  broken  and  lie  around  in  pieces;  and  the  semblances  of  Ko-pito-pito 
are  found  not  only  in  its  vicinity  but  they  are  distributed  over  many  distant  islands.  Altho 
disfigured  and  weather-worn  they  corroborate  the  symbolics  of  the  bird  idol  Make-Make. 
Whether  the  most  ancient  and  most  colossal  figures  in  the  inside  of  the  crater  will  afford 
definite  solutions  of  the  problem  whether  or  not  "those  mysterious  and  colossal  structures 
and  sculptures  will  prove  to  be  remnants  of  that  bridge  across  which  Quetz-coatle  traveled  to 
Mexico  and  from  Mungo-Capac  to  Lake  Titicaca"  as  Bastian  concluded,  will  soon  be  decided 
by  synthetical  reconstruction  of  the  essential  facts. 

In  proof  of  the  unity  of  the  races  in  eastern  Asia  and  western  America,  that  is,  of  all 
those  dwelling  upon  the  coasts  and  islands  throughout  the  Pacific,  we  also  refer  to  the  bestial 
masks  mentioned  before.  "They  formed  a  part  of  worship,  as  Ratzel  conjectured,  in  Tibet, 
India  and  Ceylon  as  well  as  in  Mexico  and  Peru."  The  Shamanes  have  the  same  masks  of 
bird-heads  as  the  Indians  of  North  America. 

We  thus  find  the  remnants  indicative  of  "communication  during  the  higher  stage 
of  Mongolian  culture,  remnants  which  plainly  indicate  a  lively  traflSc  among  the  na- 
tions over  a  vast  portion  of  the  earth's  surface,  the  memory  of  which  has  vanished, 
and  left  only  palaeontological  traces."  These  remnants,  as  now  collected  in  archseo- 
IcTgical  and  ethnological  museums,  clearly  and  convincingly  show,  that  the  peoples  of 
the  Pacific  basin  partook  of  one  and  the  same,  and  not  a  low  stage  of,  culture. 

Every  vestige  of  art,  architecture  and  cultus  bears  the  same  original  generic 
character.  The  grotesque  arrangement  of  different  animal  forms  in  the  sculptures 
and  composite  images  of  America  is  old- Asiatic  beyond  question. 

At  one  glance  we  notice  the  similarity  between  the  representations  of  snakes  and 
fishes,  and  among  the  beavers  and  frogs,  stretching  out  long  tongues.  The  medley  of 
monstrous  visages  and  coiled  snakes  forms  a  confusing  mass  in  one  and  the  same 
picture,  with  marks  of  eyes  added  promiscuously.  Human  noses  are  embellished  with 
fishes  upon  them.  On  top  the  symbolic  figures  thus  crowded  together,  appear  long- 
peaked  birds.  This  Mongoloid  taste  pertains  to  the  most  ancient  substratum  of  human 
history,  now  mostly  covered  by  advanced  forms,  but  partly  lying  open  in  its  primitive 
shape. 

The  countries,  where  these  forms  of  oldest  culture  are  visible  upon  the  surface, 
are  almost  inaccessible  as  yet  from  the  present  centers  of  civilisation.  The  Slavonic 
nations  are  destined  to  bridge  over  the  remaining  hiatus  in  our  knowledge  between 
the  primitive  forms  of  life  and  the  cultural  attainments  of  modern  Europe.  When  a 
few  more  barriers  shall  be  removed,  then  history  as  a  science  will  complete  its  record 
of  advancing  movements  around  the  earth  to  the  place  from  which  history  as  such 
first  set  out,  and  where  she  will  finish  her  endeavors  to  rehabilitate  humanity. 

§  196.  History  took  its  way  through  the  developments  which  transpired  around 
three  water-basins.  Its  first  distinct  curves  swung  around  the  Mediterranean;  then 
across  the  Atlantic;  and  now  the  Pacific  is  again  being  linked  into  the  chain  of  hu- 
man affairs.  The  latter  basin  was  the  first  over  which  migrations  and  colonial  ex- 
ploits of  nations  took  place.  The  Mongolians  went  to  the  islands  and  became  Mal- 
ayans, shifting  to  America  they  became  Toltecs,  Aztecs  and  Indians.  We  have  become 
persuaded  of  the  historical  significance  of  this  broad  Turano-Mongolian  substratum, 
and  we  shall  notice  what  purport  history  conveys  in  just  this  mode  of  completing  its 
cycles  in  the  region  of  its  beginning.  What  once  was  the  Mediterranean  gulf,  and 
what  subsequently  the  Atlantic  Ocean  amounted  to  in  the  development  of  civilisation, 
that  will  be  the  significance  of  the  Pacific  Ocean  at  the  approach  of  its  completion.  The 
facilities  for  quick  transit  contract  the  distances  between  Asia,  America,  and  Austra- 
lia into  almost  closer  proximities  than  those  were  in  the  arena  of  Phenicians,  Greeks  and 
Romans,  of  the  Normans  and  Saracens  in  their  time.  On  the  eastern  shores  of  the  Pa- 
cific we  have  the  harbors  of  Seattle,  San  Francisco,  Lima  and  Valparaiso;  on  the  west- 
ern side  the  great  staple-places  of  Nikolajewsk,  Wladivostock,  Tokio,  Canton,  Singa- 
pore and  Sidney  have  sprung  up.  They  are  all  thriving  seaports  with  a  period  of 
great  influence  before  them,  connected  as  they  are  by  lines  of  geometrical  precision, 
and  so  cosmopolitan  in  their  nature,  as  that  each  of  them  already  represents  the  in- 
terests of  every  nation.  Thus  people  hitherto  forgotten  and  arrested  in  their  develop- 
ment are  now  being  picked  up  and  elevated  to  the  historic  rank  of  advanced  nations; 
they  are  received  into  the  circles  of  humanity,  and  invited  to  take  part  in  circulating 
the  blessings  of  civilisation. 


II G.  CH.  XL  §  197.  FINAL  ISSUES  OF  PROGRESS.  861 

This  new  phase  of  universal  history  is  the  most  pronounced  feature  of  our  time  Latest  and  last 
and  the  near  future.    Most  probably  the  rounding  ofE  of  the  line  of  progress  as  de-  £n^versL  history, 
scribed  will  denote  the  disintegration  of  the  Mongolian  lump.    So  much  is  certatn  ^.  , 

.j_      ■  ^       J.        '  •  ,,a^  ,  X.  J   Disintegration 

that  history  has  run  its  race  of  extension  since  all  waters  and  countries  are  opened  of  the  Mongolian 
and  made  stations  of  circuits  with  schedule  time.  Having  taken  up  all  earthly  ^"™i8.24, 54.56, 59, 
spaces,  history  will  turn  its  attention  from  widening  its  spatial  extent  to  intensi-  so,  119. 

fying  its  human  contents. 

Allusion  was  made  to  three  Mediterraneans,  severally  separating  Asia,  Europe  and  _,  ^         „  *      ^ 

,  ,     ,  ,  ,  .  History  will  turn  from 

America  each  from  its  counterpart.    The  idea  was  then  suggested,  that  these  three  continents  wideninK  its  extent  to 
might  be  destined  to  become  three  units  of  cultural  variations.    We  may  now  conjecture  contend/"''  '**  human 
somewhat  upon  the  meaning  of  this  supposition.    It  will   be  seen  that  it  is  only  the  Asiatic 
Mediterranean  which  separates  Australia  from  its  mainland.    The  connection  between  them  thfTe'^Mediterraurans. 
is  formed  by  the  row  of  islands  from  Malacca  over  Timor.    This  makes  Asia  one  geographical  §  3 

unit  with  Mongolian  propensities.  The  American,  the  second  unit, is  unquestionable,the  bridge  .j^j.^^  ^^^^  ^^ 
still  standing.  And  so  may  Europe  be  considered  as  the  head  of  Africa,  with  the  line  Tiflis-  civilisation. 
Suezas  the  connecting  joint  of  that  body.  This  division,  yielding  three  geographical  units,  Asia-Australia. 
seems  to  have  been  pre-arranged  for  the  purpose  of  transferring  the  progress  of  history  to  the 
Pacific  waters,  the  coasts  of  which  seem  to  be  the  appointed  localities  where  the  final  attain-  Two  Americas. 
ment  of  those  aspirations  is  to  be  realised,  which  is  underlying  the  indistinct  and  portent-  Europe-Africa, 
ous  commotions  of  the  nations  ever  pressing  towards  the  West.      Again  we  are  reminded  that  _         ^.         „   ^     m. 

,,,  ■,  If     t  1-11-,  Europe  the  smallest,  yet 

the  smallest  of  these  three  units  became         the  most  valuable  to  the  rest  of  the  world,    liver  most  valuable  continent. 
since  the  great  central  point  of  the  times  Europe  was  the  pivot  point  on  which  the  history  of 
the  world  hinged,  because  of  its  being  the  bearer  of  the  highest  and  most  profound  thought 
and  of  its  leadership  in  the  advance  of  humanism. 

Its  missions,  until  recently  in  the  attire  of  servants,  have  attained  to  imperial  dignity,  g^j^^^jg 
Its  three  prominent  nations,  the  Romanic,  Germanic,  and  Slavonian,  have  been  successively»  Germanic, 
and  will  be  cooperatively,  engaged  in  elaborating  and  substantiating  the  thought  of  Human-  ^^^^eMh  to  work  out  a 
ism  in  every  direction.    Hence  the  inference  may  promptly  be  drawn  that  these  three  nations        cultural  unit, 
will  take  possession  of  the  three  geographical  units.    That  means  the  three  continents  will  j^mgrica,  Germanic. 
each  be  stamped  with  the  cultural  characteristics  of  its  respective  master-mind  or  protector.   .  .    o, 
America  will  be  governed  by  the  Germanic,  Asia  by  the  Slavonian,  and  Europe- Africa  by  the 
German-Roman  form  of  consciousness.     As  the  Romans  once  guided  the  affairs  upon  the      "'^'''    °^^'^' 
Mediterranean,  Romanistic  and  Germanic  nations  upon  the  Atlantic,  so  will  all  insist  upon  Secular  interests  settled, 
the  freedom  of  the  Pacific  as  a  public  highway  to  a  common  market.    Then  history  in  its  consummated" 
spatial  extent  will  have  gained  its  goal.    Having  settled  its  secular  interests,  the  temporal 
career  will  then  prepare  for  the  great  consummation  of  ethical  ends. 

CH.  XI.    ETHICAL  CHAOS  RESULTING  FROM  CORRUPTING  THE  COGNITION  "HUMANISM". 

§197.    Anticipating,    as   now,   the   final   outcome  of  history,  may  seem  pre- ^^^^j^^^jti^^^^^^^^ 
posterous.    Hence  the  necessity  of  vindicating  the  inferences  by  a  retrospect  of  J^Jhumanismir"* 
the  dangers  to  which  the  cause  of  humanism  is  exposed  in  extending  its  course  oText^Ä!" '**  *'*"^' 
towards  the  periphery.    The  one  fact  becomes  manifest  thereby  that  all  movements 
of  the  nations  are  made  subservient  to  this  procedure,  their  defaults  in  the  realisation 
of  the  thought  notwithstanding. 

But  to  know  only  this  much  would  afford  no  solace  to  the  despair  of  human-  ^j^j^j  issueof 
Ity  ever  attaining   a  state  of  perfection.     We  can  not  rest  satisfied  until  we  con-  progress, 
ceive  to  what  the  final  issue  of  development  will  amount.  As  a  general  thing  subjected  as  once  the  nations  were 
nations  are  forced  to  deliver  whatever  valuables  they  possess  to  the  victors.    This  accLpiishments- 
occurred  at  the  time  when  the  proceeds  of  humanity  were  taxed,  when  the  ideas  and 
the  gods,  loosened  from  their  native  soil,  were  flowing  together  into  that  chaotic  com-  soafinaiissuewiii 
pound  in  the  Roman  crucible.    That  "world-orbit"  grasped  after  every  new  cult  in  mIdeo7hrs*c"a'pabiiitier 
order  to  stimulate  its  own  fretful,  enervated  constitution.    This  may  happen  again  ''"Viof^STs!*^  25,  as, 
when  the  great  historic  movements,  after  the  race  of  progress  around  the  globe  has      "^'"^'^^^'205*232' 
been  run,  shall  come  to  a  standstilL     The  significance  of  this  epoch  will  consist  in  the 
palpable  revelation  of  all  the  contents  of  personal  life,  of  human  nature. 

At  a  final  consummation  of  human  affairs  it  must  appear  what  man  is  and  what 
he  has  made  of  himself  in  regard  to  both,  the  Good  and  the  Bad.    Because  man  is  the 
theme  of  history,  the  great  drama  representing  all  the  variations  of  personal  life  in  ^^^  ht  of  human 
Its  historical  phases  and  individual  experiences,  must  come  to  a  close  in  the  accords  ^'g"'»>  <iv!«"y  imparted 

^  r  J  to  humanity  at  the  time 

of  an  adequate  finale.  There  is  to  be  witnessed  a  rehearsal  of  all  that  man  has  earned  ^'>?'>ti'«  ^^"'''^"pV'LS' 

^  seliculture  was  declarea. 

from,  or  squandered  of ,  his  inherent  potentialities;  of  the  use  made  of  his  opportunities 
and  of  their  neglect;  of  all  the  bright-shining  results  which  his  facilities  yielded; 
and  of  his  dark  side,  as  well.  These  proceeds  were  successively  formative  in  the 
make-up  of  man's  history,  unfolding  in  time  and  separated  by  space;  they  will  then 


362 


The  phases  through 
which  the  thought  of 
humanism  has 
graduated,  since  the 
riddle  of  (Edipus, 


foreshadow  the  fates 
of  this  thought  after  the 
expansive  movements  of 
history  have  been 
passed  through. 


Humanity  reinstated 
through  the  glorified 
Redeemer, 


for  the  purpose  of 
cooperating  in  the 
redemption  of  arrested 
life. 


Communion  of 
the  human  and 
the  divine 
natures  perfected 
in  the  God-man, 
is  to  be 

represented  in 
the  individual 
phases  of 
historic 
development. 

Thought  of  humanity 
became  the  great  fact  of 
history. 

Exercises  of 
humanism 
acknowledged  as 
the  cardinal 
principle  of 
civilisation. 


Deformations  and 
reformations. 

Gentile  and  Jewish 
adumbrations  of  this 
thought. 


False  spirituality 
Worldliness  of  asceticism 


HUMANITY  REINSTATED.  HG.  CH.  XI.  §  197. 

appear  in  their  order  a-nd  interrelations  side  by  side,  as  in  one  grand  panorama,  now 
almost  conceived  to  be  contained  in  the  cognition  of  JEon.  The  period  of  the  great 
discoveries  reminds  us  of  the  fact,  that  we  are  living  already  in  the  prelude  to  this 
great  recapitulation  and  settlement  of  accounts. 

The  oldest  stones  speak  to  us  of  thoughts  and  acts  of  ancestral  people  in  a  manner 
unthought  of  a  century  ago.  The  speech  uttered  by  Aztecian  ruins,  by  Yenisei  inscriptions; 
the  meanings  conveyed  in  Hittite,  Assyro- Akkadian,  and  Egyptian  emblems  of  thought  become 
ever  more  distinct  and  intelligible.  In  the  usages  and  ideas  of  the  most  remote  and  almost 
forsaken  peoples  we  hear  voices,  which  more  and  more  narrow  down  to  a  common  language; 
voices  which  arouse  our  attention,  and  sympathetically  aflPect  us.  This  language  mirrors  to 
each  of  us  his  own  image  and  teaches  us  to  understand  ourselves.  We  learn  to  compose  the 
synopsis  of  our  own  being  preparatory  to  the  summons  by  which  a  higher  voice  convokes 
mankind  to  an  act  of  summary  adjudication. 

It  was  the  thought  of  human  dignity,  or  rather  individual  value,  which  at  a  cer- 
tain time  when  history  heard  man's  bankruptcy  announced,  had  quietly  been  sown 
into  humanity,  had  rooted  there,  and  grown  to  full  consciousness.  The  sprout  par- 
took of  the  nature  of  its  soil  and  of  the  atmosphere  wherein  it  developed.  Detach- 
ments going  on  among  the  worried  peoples  made  contrasts  appear,  which  in  their 
turn  were  to  assist  in  the  further  differentiation  of  individual  characters  and  in  the 
collective  organisms  being  thus  wrought  out  in  life's  contests.  The  idea,  the  great 
thought  of  humanism,  thus  passed  through  conditions  which  at  times  seem  contradic- 
tory beyond  reconciliation. 

Now  let  us  see  what  will  have  become  of  that  idea  at  the  termination  of  history's 
outspreading  operations.  At  the  threshold  of  early  history  we  recognised,  how  with- 
out words  the  question  was  put,  the  old  riddle  of  (Edipus:  "What  is  man?"  In  the 
Son  of  Man  we  perceived  the  answer,  not  so  much  in  words  as  in  acts;  in  Him  we  see 
whereof  true  humanity  in  its  perfect  realisation  must  consist;  we  learn  to  know  hu- 
manity, personal  life,  as  revealed  in  His  sublimity,  as  exalted  to  and  embraced  by 
divinity.  Human  nature  is  rescued  and  under  safe  protection.  It  is  redeemed  even 
corporeally.  For  the  bodily  organism  of  the  Savior,  of  earthly  origin,  had  to  be  led 
up  to  glory,  so  that  in  the  Risen  One  humanity  in  its  entirety,  through  the  ideal,  man 
shines  forth  in  the  reality  of  perfect  happiness  and  beautiful  harmony.  A  truly 
human  being,  ideal  and  essential  is  that  person  who  lives  in  the  safe  state  of  com- 
munion with  God,  that  is,  whose  self  -  and  world-consciousness  is,  by  way  of  free  self- 
consecration,  immersed  into,  and  pervaded  with  God-consciousness.  Both  self —and 
world-consciousness  are  opened  for  the  mysterious  but  empirically  real  influences 
upon  the  inner  life;  man  unreservedly  gives  himself  up  to  be  illuminated  and 
directed  by  God-consciousness.  Only  thus  and  now  does  man  attain  to  the  free  and 
sublime  position  designed  for  him.  That  unique  communion,  that  unifying  blending 
of  the  human  with  the  divine  nature  as  perfected  in  the  God-man,  is  to  be  represented 
through,  and  manifests  itself  in,  the  innumerable  individual  instances  constituting 
the  various  phases  of  historical  development.  That  unity  is  to  be  reflected  in  the 
most  manifold  variety  in  those  who  become  fashioned  into  Christlikeness.  Independ- 
ent of  temporal  considerations  they  dominate  over  the  world  whilst  serving  its  best 
interests.  They  are  to  cultivate  the  earth,  to  cooperate  in  the  redemption  of  arrested 
and  the  deliverance  of  confined  life,— to  spiritualise  the  world. 

These  outlines  of  historical  advance,  as  given  in  the  typical  first  man,  are  now 
clearly  revealed  and  made  easy  to  be  comprehended  and  to  be  accepted.  The  ideal  is 
before  the  nations,  the  thought  of  humanity  has  become  the  great  fact  of  history,  and 
the  exercise  of  humanism  is  acknowledged  as  the  cardinal  principle  of  civilisation. 

But  we  have  witnessed  how  this  ideal,  ever  present,  frequently  seemed  to  have 
disappeared  in  history's  stormy  periods.  We  saw  it  disappear  under  the  lingering 
adumbrations  of  gentile  and  Jewish  conceptions  of  life.  Subsequently  the  onesided 
meditation  upon  the  higher  world,  the  retrogressive  imitation  of  transcendental  God- 
consciousness,  fully  obscured  the  consciousness  of  the  reality,  of  the  value,  and 
the  order  of  the  present  form  of  existence.  This  was  characteristic  of  the  period  in 
which  Romanism  reigned  supreme. 

Then  again  was  the  right  and  relative  good  of  this  world  accentuated  in  the 
time  of  the  renaissance,  during  which  the  naturalistic  argumentation  went  to  the 
other  extreme,  of  supplanting  the  ethical  aspects  of  life  by  the  sesthetical. 


n  G.  CH.  XI.  §  197.     IDEAL  HUMANISM  NOT  FOUND  IN  MERE  WORLD-CONSCIOUSNESS.  363 

The  religious  reform  finally  expounded  a  deeper  conception  of  the  human  poten-  Though! iSphÄ. 
tialities  and  human  destiny.    Man  is  to  harmonise  transcendental  cognitions  with  worwuness  of  the 
the  thought  of  immanency;  he  is  to  cooperate  in  the  elevation  of  the  natural  world  ^«»^'^sance. 
into  spiritual  reality,  he  is  to  conciliate  by  acts  his  real  existence  with  his  not  less 
real  tho  celestial  destiny. 

Again,  however,  the  significance  of  the  divine  image,  because  of  its  bearing  a  re-  Reformation 
ligious  significance,  was  carried  into  the  vortex  of  mere  world-consciousness  by  torrents  ex^sVen^c^tuh* 
of  sceptical  argumentation.    The  ideal  of  humanism  was  severed  from  Ood-conscious-  "Cid^o^sSlTsness 
ness  and  viewed  through  the  spectacles  of  "enlightenment".    The  philosophy  of  t^hrcounU"reformftion 
identity  had  suddenly  projected  the  idea  into  the  dreamy  and  nebulous  realms  of  and  of  enlightenment. 
pantheism,  from  which  heights  it  was  just  as  suddenly  dragged  down  to  the  flats  of  proj'ect^/theTd'ea  Lto 

1.1  .,.,-,  -..i.  <»••«  .  1  •  ni    dreamy  and  foggish 

materialism.    In  this  humiliated  condition,  suffering  from  misapprehension,  we  find  realms  of  impersonality. 
our  model  of  genuine  humanism  comparatively  neglected  by  some  civilised  nations  d"fgged'down*^o'The 
of  our  century,  when  egoism  was  incited  to  press  on  in  the  progress  of  the  natural  ^^.  "^„^^i^^'*"^"^, 
and  practical  sciences  under  a  pronounced  worldliness.  discarded. 

It  is  this  unqualified  neglect  which  jeopardises  the  future  welfare  of  humanity.  Even  temporal 
The  perils  will  not  be  alleviated  by  the  arts  and  sciences  in  themselves,  as  some  seem  p™"'*"'*^  jeopardised. 
to  fancy. 

In  times  not  far  past  a  sceptic  was  treated  with  special  respect,  as  if  he  were  privileged  respectability.  ^*  ° 
to  be  an  infidel,  a  "freethinker"' ;  as  if  this  or  that  individual  had  become  more  dignified  by 
'"advanced"  views  and  was  to  be  honored  by  marks  of  allowance  and  exception.  Now  seep-  <=^p  "^'*™  erue. 
ticism  is  made  the  rule.  Through  the  widening  of  the  horizon,  under  attempts  at  democra- 
tising universal  knowledge,  and  through  the  advantages  held  out  to  the  masses  by  the  sciences, 
scepticism  became  a  power,  without  deepening  the  minds,  much  less  taking  care  of  the 
hearts. 

We  are  now  assaulted  by  a  "monistic  world-theory"  dominant  in  the  "liberally  Neglect  of  cultivating 
educated  classes"  especially,  to  whom  man  appears  as  a  nature  trained  automaton,  a  shallowness  of'tL  ^ 
brute  evolved  into  civilisation.     Human  nature  is  defined  as  selfsufficient  for  the 
present,  tho  with  still  higher  accomplishments  on  the  scale  of  evolution,  to  be  ex-  ^al^'ing  «rst^ankTor 
pected.    It  is  considered  as  no  more  than  a  gradation  of  force-substance,  which  is  '*^  ^°'^^*i-*b«°'^y- 
alleged  to  come  to  its  highest  form  in  the  secretions  and  functions  of  the  brain. 

This  materialism  is  not  a  thing  of  that  persuasion  or  intellectual  conviction  jrreiigiousness  no 

^  longer  a  matter  of  the 

which  was  formerly  made  the  criterion  of  ideas;  it  is  a  matter  of  the  will,  a  matter  of  mteiiectbutof  the 
moral  antipathy.    It  is  the  outspoken  design  of  materialism  to  harmonise  and  form- 
ulate the  social  life  of  the  future,  by  casting  it  into  the  mold  of  physical  homogeneity. 
The  harmony  of  forces  is  to  be  brought  about  by  the  abolition  of  common  interests.  un^striSd^Jgoism. 
Considered  as  the  cause  of  all  rivalry  and  contradiction,  public-mindedness  is  to  be 
supplanted  by  the  unrestricted  exercise  of  selfishness.    It  sounds  absurd,  that  selfish- 
ness should  be  a  general  antidote  for  the  rivalry  of  interests  and  mental  dissent,  mterert^''  common 
But  materialism  argues,  that  labor  would  become  so  diversified  that  each  individual 
would  choose,  in  accord  with  its  disposition  and  predilection,  to  pursue  the  work  agree- 
able to  it,  and  that  thereby  perfect  harmony  of  interests  would  establish  itself  as  the 
natural  result. 

The  political  economy  growing  from  such  naturalism  talks  so  much  of  rights  and  b^mateSsm^'*""*'**^ 
the  gratification  of  appetites,  that  duties  are  scarcely  mentioned  and  selfrestrictions 
not  at  all.    Since  there  are  but  individuals  with  equal  rights,  social  distictions  exist 
no  longer.    The  social  atoms  aggregate  into  the  socialistic  state,  that  is— the  associ- 
ation of  the  human  world  upon  the  basis  and  under  the  bonds  of  self  interest. 

Then,  it  is  promised,  that  we  shall  have  eternal  peace,  which  trade  dictates,  because  it  has 
become  the  great  power,  and  because  it  requires  security,  strict  habits,  and  orderly  manage- 
ment.   Trade  is  expected  to  penetrate  to  the  remotest  countries,  opening  markets  for  all  the 
products  of  labor,  sources  from  which  to  derive  the  materials,  and  places  of  exchange — all  with 
the  exactness  of  the  "drill-press".    The  electric  spark,  locomotives,  steamers,  agencies,  and  Prospects  of  socialism, 
factories  and  branch-offices,  are  the  great  means  of  that  universal  commerce  through  which  wfnts  o*/the  hum^ 
the  oceans  are  bridged,  and  mountains  are  tunneled  by  day  and  by  night,  which  incite  stupe-  *°^' 
fied  nations,  and  set  retarded  cultures  in  motion.    The  products  of  the  Ural  and  Siberia  go  to 
Girgenti  and  Avignon  under  schedule  time  and  tariffs,  which  hold  good  along  the  entire  line. 
The  fruits  of  South  German  orchards,  and  the  olives  of  the  Provence  are  shipped  to  Scotland 
and  to  Baku  under  the  same  legal  precepts  and— free  of  duty.  It  is  true,  that  in  all  this,  inter- 
national treaties  have  already  succeeded  to  the  extent  of  creating  in  most  countries  an 
approximate  equality  of  legislation.     But  it  is  said,  that  the  system  as  governed  from  one 
central  office  will  become  perfected  more  swiftly  in  every  direction. 
26 


864  DANGERS  THREATENING  FUTURE  PROSPERITY.  II  G.  Ch.  XI.  §  198. 

Humanity  a  mechanical  We   would    not   be   Understood   as   speaking-   in   derision.    To   certain    enthusiasts  it 

p^oduct^on  and  seems  as  tho  everything  was  going-  to  facilitate  the  realisation  of  those  projects  through 

consumption".  -which  the  nations  are  to  be  conducted  to  a  happy  and  peaceful  union,  which  will  render  them 

a  great  industrial  and  brotherly  association— one  large  "grange"  of  production  and  consump- 
tion. To  every  appearance  a  superficial,  a  quasi  education  inflates  the  coming  generation 
with  that  pride  which  imagines  itself  to  know  everything.  "Young  America",  the  "young 
Czechians",  the  "young  Socialists",  know  "it"  a  great  deal  better  than  their  predecessors,  and 
better  than  those  who  are  in  authority.  It  is  an  accomplishment  too  questionable  to  boast  of, 
if  by  extolling  the  triumphs  of  "the  XXth  century",  the  toils  and  trials  of  bygone  generations 
are  deprecated.  Such  boasting  cuts  the  continuity  of  history  asunder,  and  men  of  such 
ingratitude  are  apt  to  squander  inherited  valuables  for  a  song,  and  to  turn  savages. 

Mi^givfngsastosucha  Not  cverybody  CRn  be  Charmed  by  that  alluring  picture  of  earthly  bliss  in  the 

fabric.  /^^IZ".'  near  future,  Lemontry  already  had  his  misgivings  lest  men  would  be  degraded  by 
vrhich  is  poorly  qualified  the  giadual  chaugcs  of  modern  economics.  Perthes  stated  from  his  observations  of 
J're'lt'b^o'thTiÄ.'"'^  the  great  factories  in  the  first  decade  of  our  century,  that  man  would  become  a  ma- 
„^^^  chine  and  lose  his  ethical  value.    Marx  was  right  when  he  signalised  the  perils  of 

and  servitude  and  the  oppressive  power  of  capital.    Sismondi  predicted  the  dire  results 

on  c™Sf"s of  industrial  of  couceutrating  moneys;  he  foresaw  that  by  overproduction  and  free  trade  indus- 
liiyAitl  ""^  try  would  transform  its  central  places  into  battle-fields.  Cherbulicz  could  not  see  pro- 

No  progress  toward  gress  towards  general  welfare  in  the  predominance  of  industry  in  our  civilisation. 
general  ^«"»jf^^^^^j^j^  They  all  did  not  believe  that  a  great  system  of  production  and  consumption  would  unite 

men  into  one  large  human  family. 
an  er»  not  in  material  §  ^^^'    ^®*  ^^   ^^^®   ^^^^    liberty   to  Iguore   that  dark    apprehension  previ- 

deflciencies.  ously  disregarded,  about  the  coal  giving  out.     Even  if  electricity  could  not  in  every 

way  supplant  steam  power,  we  are  confident  that  man  would  discover  and  utilise  re- 

Not  in  over-population    sources  of  f  orces  dormant  in  our  planet  and  its  atmosphere,  which  would  prove  inex- 

malthus.  j^austible.    Neither  will  the  dangers  of  the  future  lie  in  the  direction  to  which  Mal- 

thus  pointed. 

With  the  pathos  of  horror  he  lectured  in  1798  upon  the  dreadful  calamity  of  overpopula- 
tion. For  he  was  sure  that  after  a  short  time  the  earth  would  not  yield  the  necessary  food 
for  the  people.  "At  the  great  banquet  of  nature  not  all  will  find  couvertes  provided  for  them." 

the  amassing  races.  Malthus  would  think  SO  no  longer  in  the  face  of  the  accelerating  ravages  of  death  caused 

by  suicide  and  industrial  negligence,  in  addition  to  those  caused  by  wars  and  natural  calami- 
ties.   Over-population   is  not  to  be  feared  as  a  universal  misfortune,  tho  emigration   and 

Deadly  accidents  on  the    immigration  may  become  vexing  problems  of  national  legislatures.     The  Taiping  insurrec- 

increase.  tion  is  Said  to  have  cost  thirty  millions  of  lives. 

To  be  sure,  new  millions  fill  the  places  again  and  want  to  be  fed;  but  is  it  true 
Valuation  of  individual   that  they  caunot  find  work,  that  the  earth  is  so  crowded  as  not  to  yield  a  living?  Un- 
ii?iiisat!on!*  '"^''*''*"°^   der  certain  circumstances,  the  growth  of  statistical  numbers  may  become  annoying. 
The  valuation  of  individual  life  is  a  sign  of  advancing  civilisation,  and  if  the  esteem 
"Labor market-  ^^  ^^  should  decllue,  as  for  instance  through  a  surplus  of  labor  on  the  "market  of  la- 

cheapens  it.  bor,"  then  man  in  general  would  sink  to  a  lower  grade.    But  never  more  will  this  be 

come  a  universal  phenomenon  or  a  lasting  condition. 

Where,  then,  would  the  dangers  threatening  future  prosperity  to  be  located  ?  They  cannot 

Danger  for  the  thought  '  °  a  r         r  ^  j 

of  humanism  not  in  the  1)6  asslgued  to  the  wars  of  the  future;  for,  after  human  society  would  have  been  atom- 
wars  of  the  future, —  °  '         '  *' 

which  may  be  more       ised  luto  ludivlduals,  War  would  thus  be  the  beneficial  means  of  reuniting  the  cen- 

■wholesome  than  '  *=> 

detrimentei.  trlf ugal  partlcles.    Heretofore,  every  part  of  the  long  period  of  peace  promoted  the 

disintegration  of  feudal  and  ecclesiastical  organisations,  and  not  otherwise  would  it 
Times  of  peace  promote  b^  wlth  projected  soclal  mcchauism.  Where  the  conservatism  of  an  agrarian  populace 
t^Htorilnnterelte^of  Pfedomluates,  soclety  as  a  whole  would  just  as  much  be  severed  by  territorial  and 
division  of  ***'*'°°*'  ^^^^^  interests  as  by  the  sectional  divisions  of  industry.  As  the  world  is  constituted, 
industrialism.  the  biudiug  and  stimulating  effects  of  wars  are  indispensable.    Mankind  will  have  to 

endure  and  overcome  the  relapse  into  barbarous  conditions  sequent  to  wars,  until 
STorff  dVcadUce^of  these  become  less  frequent  in  the  ratio  as  the  demands  of  trade  and  the  security  of  in- 
*'**''*'*^  vestment  require  indeed  more  considerateness  on  the  part  of  those  who  would  throw 

steel  and  explosives  into  the  scale  of  settlement. 
Sufficient  food  does  not  Daugef  luflcs  lu  the  moral  retrogression  of  society.    If  society  at  large  should  see 

warrant  contentment,         ,  "  ,  jo 

its  dream  of  a  world-embracing  association  of  production  and  consumption  come  true 
Los.  of  liberty  in  the  ^^^  ^  louger  or  shorter  period,  then  humanity  might,  perhaps,  be  well  enough  provided 
pl^Än'änd  ^^^^  means  to  satisfy  natural  wants.    This  is  the  conviction  at  least  of  socialistic 

consumption".  doctriuariaus.     But  in   our  opinion  folks    constituting  the  "association  of  pro- 

duction and  consumption"  would  be  far  from  being  satisfied,  and  would  have  reason  to 


il  G.  Gh.  XI.  §198.  false  sociological  theories.  365 

«nvy  the  polypi  in  their  coral  shelters,  who  have  at  least  free  tentacles.  "In  the  human  Materialistic  sociology. 
social  organism  the  psychical  constituents  (  that  which  concerns  soul  and  spirit  )  attain  ^mwlm. 

such  a  high  degreeof  development  that  the  inner  life  of  the  individual  person  afEects  the 
whole  of  humanity  in  a  similar  manner,  and  has  the  same  bearing  upon  the  social  or-  S^Jlng^ÄSt  of 
ganism,  as  the  function  of  the  single  cell  has  upon  the  animate  body.'»  What  Schseffle  wo^r^han  tTe^Ro^an 
here  calls  development  would  be  death  to  personal  life  in  its  psychical  manifestations,  ^pfl^^^y****  *****'■ 
the  end  of  liberty.    Individual  originality  would  be  rendered  defunct  in  that  system 
of  evolution,  whenever  the  "social  organisation,"  in  a  worse  than  Roman  conception 
of  the  state,  should  take  the  place  and  usurp  the  right  of  personality. 

For  in  the  last  resort  this  social  body  (the  commune  ?)  would  become  a  jelly-like  lump,  social  body  resembling 
which  is  fatally  affected  by  the  least  unusual  incitement.    Such  an  undifferentiated  mass  of  »  Protoplasmic  mas«. 
social  corporation  must  of  necessity  become,  after  individuality  and  personal  character  are 
done  away.    The  enthusiasts  of  ethnical  psychologry  are  trying  to  vindicate  the  doctrine  of 
such  an  organism  with  the  assertion  that  a  sort  of  "national  spirit"  would  animate  this  unit  flnd"Tte  ideaUn  the  unit 
ofhup^anity.    This  nervous  lump  with  the  nature  of  a  swarm  of  bees  would  be  rendered  <>' the  "national  spirit". 
cohesive  externally,  perhaps,  by  telegraph  wires;    internally  it  would  have  to  be  held  to- 
gether by  training  an  instinctive  esprit  de  corps.    Society  thus  equalised  would  arrive  at  that 
stage  of  cerebral  irritability  which  is  found  among  the  Lapps  and  the  Javanese,  who  are  so  J^^s^ne  despotism  of  the 

..  ..  ,..  «  ,  r         .  ,  ...       socialistic  commune. 

sensitive  as  to  imitate  en  masse  the  mimicry  of  any  one  addressing  them  or  attracting  their 
attention  in  a  manner  which  amazes  them. 

Humanity  in  this  shape  of  a  socialistic  commune,  which  assigns  all  individual  selfhood  Disadvantages  of 
to  the  state,  would  have  to  submit  to  the  madest  despotism  ever  experienced.    If  such  a  con-  unrestricted  freedom  of 
dition  could  become  general  the  visionary  associations,  orders,  Phalangsteres,  etc.,  would  be        ^^  * '°"' 
jrejected    as  reactionary  experiments  and  spurned  as  symptomatic  of  a  chronic  morbidity. 

If  it  should  become  obvious  that  a  projected  conglomerate  of  undifferentiated  society  is  „g*  j«  f       .  ^^     „ 
infeasible,  then  the  contrary  method  of  free  competition  would  retain  the  open  field  of  the  would  more  than 
industrial  chase  for  unscrupulous  winners.    True,  competition  sets  free  the  energies  of  a  ^rMirth  saved'by*" 
nation  and  of  each  individual;  but  whilst  it  stimulates  its  rise,  it  also  accelerates  its  decay,  machinery. 
Sparing  human  strength,  which  is  the  redeeming  feature  of  the  industrial  machinery,  is 
impossible,  where  the  "strife  for  existence"  reigns  after  the  ideal  of  Adam  Smith. 

If  this  international  economy  should  become  the  condition  of  the  future  indus- 
trial society,  then  individual  character  would  become  the  more  sharply  delineated, 
the  more  the  whole  of  humanity  would  imbibe  the  spirit  of  progressiveness. 

For  society  would  owe  its  prosperity  to  the  multiform  and  multiplying  relations  Highly  differentiated 
of  the  many  constitutent  parts  towards  each  other.    But  then  another  danger  would  suddTn'^ollapse.*" 
threaten  the  highly  differentiated  social  organism.    For  in  proportion  to  its  finer  and 
higher  development  it  becomes  the  more  sensitive. 

The  wound  of  a  worm  heals  easiest;   to  many  creatures  of  the  lower  order  nature 
restores  entire  members  lost.    Savage  tribes  show  an  aptitude  for  the  healing  process  of 
nature  which  cultured  nations  lost  long  ago.    The  cause  of  this  lies,  to  a  great  extent,  in  the  Victims  of 
progress  of  differentiation.     As  the  organism  unfolds   itself,  the  organs  correspondingly  economical 
advance  in  their  adaptability  and  capability  to  develop  new  differentiations.    The  further  delusions: 
this  development  proceeds,  the  more  tender  and  vulnerable  are  the  specific  organs,  and  con- 
sequently the  entire  organism.    This  holds  true  in  society  as  well  as  in  nature.    Industry 
mechanically  organised  and  highly  differentiated  is  so  much  exposed  to  friction  that  to  the  M^anchestrian 
individual,  compelled  to  strain  his  intellectual  powers  to  the  last  notch  in  order  to  succeed  in  hazardous  to  the 
the  contest  for  existence,  there  is  in  the  end  left  no  other  resource,  but  to  be  hurled  over  from  intellect  as  to 
insomnia  into  insanity,  or  to  become  a  victim  of  despondency  and  to  drop  off  by  way  of  ©^bics.         ^  ^^^^^ 
suicide.    Taken  as  a  whole  this  human  fabric  will  perceive  its  diseased  condition  no  more 
than  a  madman  can  be  convinced  of  his  insanity. 

This  single-handed  contest  with  complex  competition  in  the  sense  of  the  Man-  Liberty  the  spur  to 

.  "^  "^  '^       ,  exertion,  also  the  source 

chestrian  school  of  economics  is  as  hazardous  to  ethics  as  dangerous  to  intellect,  of  social  penis. 
^•For,"  says  H.  Fichte,  "the  higher  the  individual  rises  to  a  position  of  relative  independ-  tj^^  j^rk  shadow 
ence,  so  as  to  enjoy  the  achievements  won  by  his  own  exertion  with  a  certain  degree  of  modern 
of  selfcomplacency  and  satisfaction,  the  greater  is  the  probability  and  danger  of  his 
degeneracy."    This  aspect  designates  the  position  from  which  the  growth  of  evil,  as  Kty "ot  lesTthan 
the  dark  shadow  of  modern  civilisation,  may  be  explained  and  is  to  be  viewed.  tyrtnny^th^'"''^'*' 

By  the  transformation  of  society  through  the  industrial  changes  the  individual  perils     ^ 
has  become  emancipated  to  a  great  extent  from  the  guardianship  of  home-life  and  econom^cs^ 
social  custom.    Freedom,  the  source  of  individual  exertions,  now  also  becomes  the  dtminish.*""^''*  ^^^'^ 
source  of  predicaments.    In  both  cases,  in  tyrannical  communism  and  Manchestrian  Possibilities  of 
freedom,  the  perils  of  our  economics  augment  rather  than  diminish.    Whether  gen-  averting 
eral  interests  have  the  predominant  influence,  so  that  personal  advantages  are  made  experiments, 
of  small  concern  and  are  sacrificed  to  the  selfhood  of  the  state;  or  whether  the  con- 


SOCIAL  PERIL  AND  ITS  AVOIDANCE. 


II  G.  Ch.  XI.  §  199. 


"Fourth  estate"  to  be 
organised  in  order  to 
purge  itself  of 
irredeemable  elements. 


Present  order  of  society 
to  ,be  upheld  under 
increasing  efforts  of 
harmonising 
readjustment,  by 
rational  methods  of 
economic  reconstruction. 


Peril  to  which 
the  thought  of 
humanism  is 
exposed. 


Real  danger 
located. 


Man  does  not  become 
better,  only  more 
legalistic  by  mere 
culture.  Kant. 


Viciousness  of  past  ages 
only  recast  into  modern 
molds. 


Depravity  despises  to| 
borrow  respectability 
from  hypocricy. 


Crowding  the  cities  a 
menace  to  morality. 


Profligacy 
emboldened  by 
decency 
retreating. 

Growing  indifference  as 
tu  resistance  of 
wickedness. 


Old  age  prudent  to 
avoid  the  annoyances 
connected  with 
combating  the  bad. 

Lasauix. 


Increase  of  calculating 
trend  of  the  mind,  and 
of  destructive  forces : 


sideration  of  private  prosperity  prevails  and  subjective  selfishness  is  insisted  upon, 
from  which  society  derives  the  nature  of  a  contrat  sociale,  subject  to  abrogation  at 
pleasure,  the  evils  incumbent  to  the  progress  of  civilised  society  will  inevitably 
increase. 

It  is  possible,  that  the  inorganic  exudation  of  industry,  called  the  proletariat,  may 
be  reabsorbed  by  the  social  organism,  that  the  bourgeoisie  may  assimilate  the  labor- 
ing class  by  elevating  it,  by  sympathising  and  candidly  fraternising  with  it.  In  this 
case  the  "fourth  estate"  will  either  purge  itself  from  irredeemable  elements  and 
form  itself  into  difiEerentiated  units,  or  it  will  consolidate  its  interests  with  the  intel- 
ligent classes  and  with  productive  capital.  For  the  sake  of  such  a  more  normal  re- 
construction by  a  method  of  organic  membership,  the  laboring  class  will  find  it  con- 
ducive to  their  welfare  to  uphold  the  present  order  of  society  which  socialism  is 
contriving  to  upset. 

Such  are  the  probabilities.  Disastrous  experiments  and  social  perils.if  not  wil- 
fully ignored,  may  yet  be  prevented  by  rational  methods  of  reconstruction.  There  is 
room  enough  for  improvement  on  earth.  As  America  may  become  one  large  confed- 
eration of  republics,  so  may  Europe  eventually  constitute  Itself  into  a  confederacy  of 
free  states,  instead  of  remaining  a  system  of  armories  and  national  debts.  Neverthe- 
less, success  with  the  best  of  these  possibilities,  whilst  enlarging  the  arena  of 
turbulences,  woud  not  abolish  the  peril  to  which  the  thought  of  humanism  is  exposed. 

§  199.  The  dangers  lie  in  materialism,  as  formulated  in  a  world-theory.  Man  in 
general  does  not  become  better.  Et  was  Kant's  opinion  that  he  only  becomes  more 
legalistic.  Individual  morality— inasmuch  as  it  rests  upon  personal  conversion, 
upon  a  thorough-going  change  of  the  innermost  mind  in  its  center  where  all  psychi- 
cal and  spiritual  faculties  are  focusing— does  not  increase  with  cultural  progress.  It 
has  been  correctly  stated,  "that  every  vice  of  bygone  ages,  altho  seeming  to  have  dis- 
appeared, has  only  been  recast  into  modern  molds."  Its  present  form  maybe  more 
smooth  and  polished;  under  the  guise  of  refinement  it  is  more  similar  to  ä  certain 
angel  than  to  a  beast.  Iniquity  in  its  present  forms  can  avail  itself  of  a  great  va- 
riety of  masks  and  means,  the  analysis  and  exposure  of  which  in  special  cases 
requires  the  closest  scrutiny  of  chief-justices.  But  the  sleekness  of  cloaked  de- 
pravity notwithstanding,  sin,  ever  on  the  advance,  spurns  to  wear  soft  features;  it 
despises  to  borrow  respectability  from  hypocrisy,  and  boasts  of  its  resolute  character. 

We  plainly  observe  this  condition  of  things  in  the  growth  of  the  large  cities.  In  the  year 
1860  Germany,  for  instance,  contained  but  four  cities  with  more  than  100,000  inhabitants;  now* 
there  are  twenty-five.  In  the  United  States  we  had  in  the  cities  thirty  years  ago  only  one- 
eighth  of  the  present  population ;  now  the  fourth  part  of  the  nation  crowds  our  one  hundred  and 
odd  cities  of  over  50,000  inhabitants.  It  is  an  empirical  fact  that  the  Bad,  like  an  epidemic  is 
the  more  infective,  the  closer  the  masses  live  together,  and  that  the  means  of  mischief  are 
multiplying  in  proportion  to  the  measures  taken  for  the  suppression  of  crime. 

Another  feature  becomes  thus  apparent.  The  bolder  profligacy  steps  forth,  the 
more  will  peaceable  citizens— will  decency  retreat  and  give  free  sweep  to  rascality. 
The  more  viciousness  makes  it  a  study  to  circumvent  the  laws,  and  to  dodge  legal 
condemnation,  and  the  more  shrewd  passion  is  concealed  under  the  cloak  of  polite 
manners  in  order  to  break  forth  the  more  fervidly— the  more  callous  and  indifferent 
does  society  grow  in  resisting  wickedness. 

"Old  age  gains  more  force  of  selfguarded  prudency,  than  firmness  and  goodness 
of  will-power."  This  verdict  of  Lasaulx  may  well  be  applied  to  humanity  growing 
old.  The  more  the  spirit  of  the  times  develops  a  calculating  and  intellectual  trend 
of  mind,  the  more  numerous  the  inventions  and  the  distructive  forces  of  science, 
the  more  will  the  way  of  progress  be  beset  with  dangers,  if  at  the  same  time 
religious  warmth  and  ethical  energy  correspondingly  decrease.  If  humility  of 
spirit  is  lost  upon  the  height  of  industrial  successes,  then  that  haughtiness  towers 
up,  which  defies  heaven  under  the  self  conceit  of  holding  the  earth  in  subjection. 

Wherever  physical  life  preponderates,  as  for  instance  in  early  childhood,  the  sensual  appe- 
tites dominate,  but  guilelessness  and  good  nature  also  are  prevalent;  anger  is  soon  allayed^ 
a  conflict  laid  by  as  quick  as  it  was  provoked.  A  well-fed  person  is  taken  for  a  "hale  fellow 
well  met",  whilst  every  artist  will  represent  Mephistopheles  by  a  lean  bloodless  figure.  We 
conclude  with  almost  unfailing  certainty  that  both,  the  good  as  well  as  the  bad  features  of 


n  G.  Ch.  XI.  §  199.       CLASS  INTERESTS  CONSOLIDATING  AND  CLASHING.  367 

human  character  assume  more  definite  outlines,  as  natural  simplicity  gives  way  to  selfcon-  Cultivation  of  character 
sciousness  and  mental  control  of  the  natural  temper.    With  this  increasing  aptitude  also  successfuloountoraction. 
grows  the  inner  conflict  shaping  the  character.    In  short,  the  real  image  of  man  develops 
under  the  lights  and  shades  of  inner  conflicts  and  outward  annoyances.  The  more  spirited  man 
becomes,  the  more  he  loses  his  pliability  and  gracefulness,  the  more  apparent  becomes  his 
decisiveness  and  the  more  marked  his  inflexible  determinateness.    That  vagueness  of  charac- 
ter is  despised  which  covers  contradictory  elements  by  affecting  an  ever-compromising  policy  ,  g^g  , 
of  expediency  and  allowances :  whilst  correspondingly  more  of  that  keenness  of  judgment  allowances  and 
will  show  itself,  which  possesses  the  courage  of  its  convictions,  acting  upon  principle  regard-  *''P*<^'®"*'y- 
less  of  fear  or  favor.    The  same  development  of  characteristics  we  may  with  all  propriety 
ascribe  to  highly  developed  nations  as  well  as  to  individuals. 

No  doubt,  the  evils  of  the  dark  ages  were  more  appalling  than  those  of  modern 
times.    Violence,  rudeness  and  lewdness  were  more  visible  at  the  courts  and  in  the 
towns,  with  the  shiftless  rovers,  as  with  the  sedate  monks.    Dense  was  the  smoke  in  fornfe"and  preJIn^ 
the  dwellings  and  deep  the  filth  in  the  narrow  streets  breeding  rapacious  pestilences. 
Police  and  health-ofiicers  have  diminished  nuisances  of  that  sort.    Never  was  decency 
better  supported  by  moral  suasion  and  public  opinion,  bringing  offenders  to  terms 
and  ostracising  vulgarity,  than  at  present.    Yet  this  does  not  suflEice  to  annul  our  Moral  maudy  festering 
former  judgment  as  to  our  highly  polished  civilisation.    The  malady  does  not  come  Äe  soViarbody!"" 
out  perhaps,  in  as  hideous  carbuncles  as  formerly;  but  it  is  festering  upon  the  inner 
and  most  vital  organs  of  the  social  body  so  much  the  worse. 

Darwin  somewhere  said,  that  in  the  progress  of  history  phantasy  was  evaporating  „p^^^^^^ 
whilst  reason  was  gaining  strength.     There  is  signalised  just  that  danger  of  which  l'^^^^'\^iy"^«  p 
we  speak.    In  the  Middle  Ages  piety  was  a  powerful  counterpoise  against  viciousness; 
of  that  power  our  time  is  deficient.    Supercilious  semi-culture,  withal  its  acuteness  of 
reasoning,  cannot  retrieve  the  defect.    And  it  is  doubtful  whether  the  reckoning  pru-  nÄ besÜperfededb'y 
dence  spoken  of  is  able  to  supersede  piety,  may  it  choose  its  means  ever  so  rationally,  danger"^*"'  "*'  *^* 

In  the  choice  of  means  to  counteract  the  dangerous  outcroppings  of  modern  civ- 
ilisation nowhere  is  less  discrimination  exercised  than  in  the  international  associ- 
ations.   Neither  labor  nor  capital  is  scrupulous  in  its  choice  of  international  agen-  danjerous'^outeroppings 
cies.    Nationality  and  patriotism  form  sacred  ties  for  individual  aspirations,  since  by the'^^intÄTona?-" 
the  truth  of  Guizot's  definition  of  civilisation  is  acknowledged,  according  to  which  proper  incitement  to 
each  contributes  his  best  thoughts  and  acts  to  the  welfare  of  his  country  and  the  Af^eV^Famuy'tiM 
nation  is  ready  to  accept  and  encourage  such  endeavor.    To  have  in  view  the  fair  "^"^  p^ti^oit'sm.  Gmzot. 
name  of  family  and  country  is  a  most  powerful  regulator  of  social  conduct  and  na-  Guiz9t's  good 
tional  prosperity.    But  this  incitement  to  ethical  reciprocity   loses   much  of   its  cfwusation.^  §56. 
force  and  salutary  virtue,  as  soon  as  through  enterprise,  envy  and  dissatisfaction  the 
ties  are  loosened  which  bind  persons  to  their  home  and  kindred. 

These  circumstances  bring  us  back  face  to  face  with  the  ancient  boast  of  cosmo- 
politan virtues  at  large,  which  once  inflated  the  Stoics,  to  whom  social  and  home  duties  losmoponÄT.  '"'s  so 
seemed  nothing  but  encumbrances  in  attaining  to  their  hazy  ideal  of  humanism.  In 
fact,  for  more  than  thirty  years  have  people  been  nourished  with  the  idea  of  supplant- 
ing the  European  system  of  states  by  one  republic.      This  titanic  structure  stands  so  as  tea"- European' 
complete  before  the  imagination  of  the  "internationale"  confederation  of  labor,  that  "p"'*'^"'" 
even  a  new  common  language  for  the  entire  brotherhood  has  been  devised. 

Thus  the  portentous  figure  of  an  amalgamated  unit  rises  in  the  distance  of  the  .    ,       .     , 

"^  "^  Amalgamation  of 

times  and  throws  its  shadow  ahead,  a  unit  whose  outlines  are  like  those  of  the  ghost  nations  projected  by  the 

modern  cosmopohtical 

of  the  ancient  giant^Roman  cosmopolitanism;  a  unit  which  in  essence,  according  f ^S^XnTiabor  " 
to  the  appearance  which  matters  have  assumed,  is  not  altogether  impossible. 

§  200.    In  the  broad  river  of  universal  history  which  we  have  endeavored  to  ex-  perverted*cognition  of 
plore  along  its  whole  course,  we  ever  observed  the  well  defined  current  of  a  certain  domi^nion"ö*/er  nlture. 
form  of  world-consciousness  carrying  along  a  solid  tendency  to  conform  to  the  earliest 
traditions.     This  tendency  took  its  shape  for  the  first  time  in  the  Babylonian  domin-  origin  of  the  tendency 
Ion,  upon  its  Turano-Mongolian  substructure.    That  very  tendency  continued  its  ^orid-empi'rTin'^**"**'' 
efforts  to  materialise  itself  in  the  Persian,  Greek  and  Roman  monarchies.    When  the  ß^byion. 
Mediator  entered  history,  it  was  this  tendency  which  opposed  His  Kingdom  by  insist- 
ing upon  its  prepossessed  idea  of  a  messianic  world-empire.     Notwithstanding  the 
disasters  it  has  had  to  sustain,  this  very  idea  of  worldly  union  and  dominion  unin-  Tendency  perpetuated. 
terruptedly  continues  to  flow  down  the  river  of  time,  always  distinct,  in  the  solid 
bundle  (fasces)  of  Roman  principles,  no  matter  whether  the  stream  changes  its  course 


COSMOPOLITAN  CULTURE  AND  CHRISTIAN  CIVILISATION.     11  G.  Ch.  IX.  §  200. 


This  persistent 

tendency 

is  to  culminate  in 

an  antitype  of 

the  Babylonian 

prototype. 

The  figure  now 
assuming  definite  shape 
corresponds  with  the 
emblem  of  defiance  to 
God. 

Return  of  history  under 
auspices  of 
cosmopolitanism. 


in  order  finally  to 
Christianise  even  the 
Mongolian  substratum. 


Eoman  principles  In  a    fj-om  Bvzanz  to  Aacheii  and  Paris,  or  from  Rome  to  Moscow.  And  this  tendency 

bunch — "fasces' —  •'  '  •' 

ßä-Alchen  ^^^^  culminate,   if  indications    do  not  deceive,   in   a  worldly  entity  which  will 

Eome-Moscow. '  Tcprescnt  the  clear-cut  anti-type  of  the  Babylonian  proto-type,  its  broad  platform  in- 

cluded. 

The  memory  of  Babel  calls  forth  in  our  combination  of  thoughts  the  symbolic 
figure  of  that  titanic  violence  which  persisted  in  the  consummation  of  visible  unity 
for  the  sake  of  cosmopolitan  dominion,  and  in  defiance  of  Heaven— despite  its  being 
pregnant  with  utter  confusion,  impotence,  and  dispersion.  To  the  emblem  of  vio- 
lence, defiance  and  confusion,  exactly  corresponds  that  anti-type  which  casts  its  shad- 
ow before.  Minds  with  the  necessary  insight  discern  beneath  the  agitation  for  an 
international  association  how  that  anti-typical  entity  is  assuming  definite  shape. 

The  investigation  of  that  vast  and  dark-substratum  spread  over  the  face  of  the 
earth,  we  always  judge  to  be  an  essential  factor  in  the  historical  problem. 
Even  the  return  of  history  to  the  regions  of  its  beginning  is  evidence  of  their  unin- 
terrupted importance.  With  respect  to  both,  time  and  space,  history  has  slid  over  the 
compact  Mongolo-Malayan  strata  without  making  an  impression  upon  them.  It  is  in 
respect  to  its  design  and  intent  that  history  returns  to  them  by  utilising  the  opportu- 
nities afEorded  by  cosmopolitan  culture,  in  order  to  throw  out  the  Christian  thought 
as  a  seed  into  the  agitated  chaotic  world  absorbed  in  selfishness  under  the  guise  of 
cosmopolitanism.  These  are  the  circumstances  under  which  this  thought  will  have 
to  engage  single-handed  in  the  contest  with  the  gigantic,  hostile  and  grotesque 
world-consciousness  of  antiquity. 

Why  again  in  solitary  contest?  Because  nations  making  cosmopolitanism  their 
religion,  may  be  incapable  of  embracing  the  thought,  and  will  most  ^probably 
withdraw  from  Christianity  into  the  gloomy  mass  from  whence,  in  their  shattered 
condition,  they  emerged  in  the  beginning.  Ratzel  finds,  that  in  a  mixture  of  nation- 
alities a  great  anti-spiritual  force  is  at  work;  nature  gains  preponderance  over  the 
spirit,  the  physical  part  of  man  triumphs  over  the  psychical;  natural  impulses  get 
the  upper  hand  over  the  will  and  over  justice. 

Just  imagine  the  condition  of  things  if  these  observations  should  become  verified  by  the 
great  mixture  of  races  which  is  now  rapidly  and  on  a  large  scale  going  on  in  America. 

America,  they  say,  is  a  revised  and  abridged  edition  of  Europe.  But  the  seven 
millions  of  negroes  in  conjunction  with  a  motley  crowd  of  Slavonic  and  Romanic 
"cheap  labor"  of  base  propensities— all  upon  a  level  of  political  rights  without  intel- 
lectual ripeness  for  selfgovernment— form  a  large  interrogation  point. 

Since  the  disintegration  of  nations  leading  to  this  new  mixture  is  also  making 
rapid  progress,  it  is  obvious  that  the  erratic  elements  deposited  in  America  are  not  the 
most  desirable  material  for  building  up  a  new  nation.  For  the  elements  holding 
their  own  amidst  the  process  of  dissolution  are  not  always  the  nobler  for  it. 

Let  us  take  a  few  instances  to  illustrate  our  allusions. 

Of  the  Aryan  element  in  its  Indo-German  purity  France  has  purged  herself,  the 
Celtic  stock  remaining  in  sway.  In  Italy  the  Longobards  and  Goths  had  founded  an 
influential  nobility,  but  with  the  passing  centuries  nearly  all  the  strength  of  that 
s'^iS^r^'idr'**""*"^"'  patrician  element  has  dwindled  away.  Into  Spain  Semitic  blood  has  been  poured  by  the 
submerging.  Pheuiciaus,  Arabs  and  Jews,  so  that  the  old  Gothic  aristocracy  is  simply  disappearing. 

In  Austria  and  Switzerland  we  see  how  a  mixture  of  various  nationalities  is  success- 
fully engaged  to  curtail  the  supremacy  of  the  Germans.  England  alone  may  be  said 
to  stand  firm  on  Teutonic  ground;  and  Scandinavia  in  her  modest  way.  But  through 
all  these  nations  Semitic  blood  is  spreading,  which,  since  enfranchisement  has  been 
granted  to  the  Jews,  more  than  ever  effectuates  disintegration  under  pretense  of  cos- 
mopolitanism—as a  glance  into  the  literature  of  the  brand  of  the  "Monist",  edited  by 
<;)arus,  will  demonstrate.  ^  "Amidst  the  ethnical  chaos  one  state  after  another  crystal- 
lises", said  Droysen.  But  state  after  state  may  tumble  back  again  into  ethnical  chaos. 
Political  units  with  their  preserving  ingredients  dissolve  in  the*turpid  fluids  accumu- 
lating in  the  "international"  pools.  Already  states  accommodate  themselves,  more 
than  they  are  ready  to  acknowledge,  to  international  associations,  to  secret  orders 
with  their  open  exchange  of  encouragement. 


Christian 
thought  in  a 
single-handed 
contest  with  a 
hostile  form  of 
world - 
consciousness. 

because  Christianity  is 
unsupiKirted  by  nations 
which  render 
cosmopolitanism  their 
religion. 

Mixed  nationalities 
agitated  by  a  great 
anti-spiritual  force. 

Ratzsl. 

Cosmopolitan  mixture  of 
North-America. 


Disintegration  of  some 
nations,  leading  to  this 
mixture. 


Illustrative  facts : 

German  element 
disappearing  in  the 
Romanised  states  once 
fructified  by  them. 


Semitic  blood  Infused 
into  Christian  nations 

more  than  ever, 
disintegrating 
under  pretense  of 
cosmopolitanism. 

g67,  68,  81,  88,  128,  164 


Futility  of 

Droysen's 

conclusion  of  states 
emerging  from  chaos, 


State«  ^ive  way  t< 

international 

cosmopolitanism. 


n  G.  CH.  XI.  §  201.      ORIENTAL  THOUGHT  IN  OCCIDENTAL  GARB.— 6PIN0ZA.  360?" 

This  gradual  dissolution  designates  national  putrefaction.    From  the  dark  col-  'orerunne«  of  the  unsi 

,        ,  ,  .       „  „  .        ,  .  .  .  appearance  of 

ored,  chaotic  flood— figuratively  speaking— gigantic  and  awful  forms  may  be  seen  to  p^f^'J'"'''*'^  wickednesi 
emerge,  in  juxtaposition  to  the  remnants  of  sublime  accomplishments,  which  will 
remind  the  educated— provided  any  of  them  are  left  to  enjoy  life— of  the  antedi- 
luvian sea-monsters.  grossest  superstition 

These  phenomena  will  rise  from  two  different  spheres,  which  according  to  our  thlmosraiTySeiuy. 
present  terminology  will  correspond  to  the  highest  and  the  basest  strata  of  society,  no  state  wants  to 
They  will  correspond  to  past  and  present  experience,  and  will  substantiate  our  re-  contract  upon 
peated  judgment  that  grossest  superstition  from  below  always  accompanies  the  airiest  of  bearing  ilp'or 
infidelity  above.     No  state  upon  earth  will  then  commit  itself  to  the  odium  of  chrlstialf  *^^ 
bearing  or  protecting  the  Christian  thought.    And  this  thought  in  its  original  soli-  thought  which 
tariness  will  then  have  to  encounter  twofold  enmity.  We  must  give  the  reasons  upon  twofold  enmity, 
which  this  presentiment  is  founded. 

^  201.    In  the  first  place  we  refer  to  the  situation  preceding  the  advent  of  the 
Mediator  upon  the  scene  of  universal  history.    Close  beside  the  highest  accomplish-  fÄmy  and  *"' 
ments  of  Roman  society  in  regard  to  philosophy  and  aesthetics  we  have  seen  the  ugly  umrot  j'e°sus*repeated. 
mantic  cult  of  Akkado  -  Babylonian  origin,  the  fright  of  ghosts,  the  oracle-business, 
and  the  belief  in  necromancy.    Beside  of  the  sublime  heights  of  stoical  affectation  as  g^.^^j  affectation  and 
to  science  and  rhetoric,  there  yawned  the  steep  abyss  of  wildest,  superstitious  frenzy,  superstitious  frenzy. 
Nobody  can  imagine  a  Rome  without  its  soothsaying  from  the  entrails  of  birds  and  even 
of  human  sacrifices,  without  that  stoicism  which  held  its  sway  over  the  ranks  of  the  soothsaying, 
educated,  and  which  never  denied  its  oriental  extraction  and  Asiatic  pantheism-  °«"°'"*"'=y 
These  are  the  two  phases  of  enmity  to  be  encountered  again  by  the  Christian  thought, 
of  which  we  speak.    At  present  this  Pantheism  is  already  the  sole  religion,  rather  in-  stoicism  and  pantheism., 
tellectualism— and  the  only  form  of  spiritual  knowledge  of  the  "liberally  educated 
classes".    Spinozism,  as  introduced  by  a  plagiarist  of  oriental  extraction— this  be- 
comes now  remarkable— was  the  ground  from  which  the  great  systems  of  quasi-reli- 
gious speculation  soared  high  up  in  our  century.    When  it  ascended  into  the  thin  re- 
gions, the  gazers  abandoned  these  systems  to  their  inglorious  descent,  and  returned 
to  the  solid  monism  of  materialism  altho  it  was  discovered  to  be  nothing  but  the  sub-  affronted  by  these  two 

,,.,..,,„,,.,.,  .  phases  of  enmity. 

stantial  precipitate  of  pantheistical  monism. 

Since  Lessing  a  laugh  at  the  Heavenly  world  was  deemed  the  counter-sign  for  entering  ^^„^^rfent^ 
the  circles  of  respectability.    The  heroism  of  "pure  reason"   animated  the  chivalry  of  free  pantheism,  under  garb 
thought— an  aristocracy  where  a  diploma  was  to  be  obtained  tolerably  cheap,  "where  the  Gnost'icf  nomenclature: 
initiated  took  it  for  an  insult,  when,"  as  Lotze  said,  "Heaven  and  eternal  blessedness  were  the  ground  from  which 
offered  as  a  reward".  This  heroism  inflated  people  preparatory  to  an  indoctrination  of  sheer  quts^!^efigfous™^  °* 

Selfadoration.  speculation  soared  high; 

Then  came  that  "crazy-quilt  C'f  Indian  patches."  stitched  together  artfully  with  German  ^^^  j^jj  ^^^  ^^^^  ^^^ 
needles  and  thread,"  as  Anton  Guenther  described  Pantheism.  Soon  after,  the  Germans  were  marshy  monism  ot 
upraided  in  English  that  Pantheism  was  the  private  religion  of  the  fatherland.    We  must  say  Kiaterialism. 
that  it  was  more:  the  secret  religion  of  the  literary  classes,  so  far  as  they  claimed  education  Scepticism  since  Lessing. 
and  exerted  literary   influence  over  the  whole   world.    We  must,  moreover,  confess  that  _,    ,,„  ,.  ,  ^     ^,, 

..  i-i.  1  ...  ihe    Lnligntened 

Pantheism  was  the  secret  of  Schopenhauer's  pessimism.    And  since  that  pessimism  is  so  ones  indignant 
entirely  a  growth  of  the  tropics,  we  confess  in  short,  that^we  approach  Buddhism  as  a  mode  he'ld'outas^a reward*^ 
of  thinking.    History  returns  to  its  starting  points.  Lotzb. 

Not  only  have  some  writers  glorified  Buddhism  as  standing  far  above  Christianity  Pantheism  compared  to 

•^  ,  .  .  a  "Crazy-qnilt  of  Indiaa 

scientifically  as  well  as  numerically,  but  we  see  those  associations  forming  already,  patches»  stitched 

•^  .  .  o  ^  '    together  with  German 

in  which  the  old  Hindoo-philosophy  is  courted  by  the  young  monism  of  the  Occident,  needies.^^^^^  guekthek. 
As  one  of  the  signs  of  this  betrothal  we  may  only  point  to  that  Monthly  "for  the  up- 
building of  the  metaphysical  view  of  the  world  upon  monistic  grounds."    American  Schop'enhauer's 
and  English  scientists  are  engaged  in  this  enterprise  in  company  with  prominent  pessimism, 
Brahmins  of  Calcutta  and  Madras.  ^Zsinourting  oid 

The  Theosophical  Society  of  Madras  prepares  the  unification  of  all  Buddhistic  sects  into  Hindoo  world-soreness. 
a  sort  of  protestanism  of  the  religious  life  of  Asia.      The  result  to  be  expected  will  be  as  nasty  •■Monthiv"  for 
a  mixture  as  Mormonism.    The  peculiar  consummation  of  our  diverting  world-wisdom  will  Buddhistic  theosophy. 
flow  together  under  the  law  of  natural  aflBnity.    It  is  marked  out  as  the  religious  syncretism   syncretism  the 
which  in  the  Apocalypse  is  termed  pharmacopoia.    For  the  same  art  of  mixing  denoted  the  pharmacopoia  of  the 
consummation  of  ancient  cultures,previous  to  the  complete  entrance  of  the  supernatural  into     ^°*^^  ^^^^' 

the  world  at  the  middle  of  the  times.  Reverse  side  of  learned 

We  turn  to  the  reverse  side  of  learned  infidelity. 

Wundt  defines  the  Spiritualists  "as  the  pitiable  victims  of  exodic  Shamnism,  hav-  ihlmSs^  "^""wukm. 
ing  imported  their  hideous  imagery  about  the  human  soul  into  Europe."— We  are  thus 


870  SIGNS  OF  THE  APPROACH  OF  THE  CRISIS.  II  G.  Ch.  XI.  §  202. 

transferred  back  to  ancestor-worship,  to  the  low  sphere  of  a  world  of  ghosts,  from  the 

fearful  dreams  of  which  the  savage  tribes  could  not  save  themselves.  Again  we  stand 

before  the  feverish  and  fitful  consciousness  of  the  primitive,  terror-stricken  mass, 

routin   fl^^^^S  tiom  a  curse  which  haunts  them.    But  is  it  possible,  indeed,  that  the  old  sub- 

npon  e°xhauBted  ground,  stratum  of  Mougoliau  Shamaulsm  should  be  found  an  alloy  of  modern  European  cul- 

rumvation^s  willfully    ture?    The  sproutlug  of  tlie  old  weedj  seeds  is  not  impossible  on  exhausted,  barren 

ground,  where  the  cultivation  of  the  Heavenly  plant  has  been  willfully  neglected, 

especially  when  history  returns  to  its  points  of  beginning.    The  flame  of  a  deep-red 

gleam  breaks  forth  everywhere  from  mysterious  depths. 

Periodically  there  went  a  hot  wave  of  anguish  over  mediaeval  Europe.    That  anguish 
the^Middie  Ages.      °       was  caused  by  the  monks  admonishing  people  to  repent.    It  was  aggravated  by  the  predic- 
tions of  astrologers,  by  prophecies  circulated  through  authors  in  Toledo  and  Paris,  in  Flo- 
rence and  Bologna.    But  its  deepest  source  and  incentive  power  was  lying  in  the  hidden  depth 
Never  did  Infidelity         of  the  human  soul.    In  no  other  way  is  it  explicable  that  the  phantoms  of  religious  visiona- 
**'*§^50*65!^4772,'*73i  95,  ^ies,  and  the  demoniac  convulsions  in  hermitages  and  in  the  valleys  of  the  Sevennes,  down  to 
97    the  horrors  of  witchcraft,  always  kept  pace  with  the  spread-eagle  attitude  of  highest  worldly 
education  and  enlightenment.    For  never  did  infidelity  extirpate  superstition.    This  is  more 
than  evident  from  history.    At  the  close  of  its  career  through  barren  heaths  enlightenment 
may  yet  come  to  see,  that  the  attempts  to  become  as  God  in  spite  of  Him  will  be  put  to  grief. 
From  the  frying  pan  it  will  jump  into  the  fire.    The  powers  which  infidelity  has  declared 
defunct  a  thousand  times  will  then  shake  it  like  the  ague.    Kant,  at  least,  believed  the  exist- 
Kant  ence  of  an  invisible  world  haunting  us,  after  he  had  investigated  Swedenborg's  statements. 

phen^omena  of  the  The  educated  world  of  late  denies  faith  in  anything  of  the  kind— consequently  it  will  believe 

thereto^by'^^SwKDKNBOM    ^"  ^^^  oracles  of  moving  tables  and  knocking  spirits.    Nothing  will  be  too  weird  in  the  line  of 
old  superstition,  that  infidels  will  not  grasp  after,  in  the  heat  of  inner  passions  and  in  the 
cold  shudderings  of  the  feverish  soul.    This  very  scientific  world  will  resort  to  pseudo-mira- 
Mysterious  phenomena      cles  altho  hairs  will  Stand  on  their  ends  from  fright  at  the  magical  and  occult  phenomena, 
of  magic.  Despite,  if  not  in  consequence  of  having  been  mocked,  the  powers  played  with  in  sorcery  will 

seize  men  as  if  they  were  their  playthings ;  forces  will  fetter  and  fascinate  them ;  visions 
of  things  and  premonitious  grasps  of  events  near  and  far,  heavenly  and  infernal,  will  touch 
human  susceptibilities. 

Man  is  to  appear  These  phenomena  are  called  magical  because  we  are  not  as  yet  sufficiently 

cS  aif  his^nown"  acquainted  with  their  inner  nature  as  to  systematically  arrange  and  explain  them. 
po?entfaHties  T^^^Y  Were  ever  at  work  and  will,  yea,  from  the  necessity  in  the  matter,  must  make  their 
and  proclivities,    appearance,  because  man  is  bound  to  appear  in  the  completion  of  all  his  known  and  hidden 

§  10,  15,  16,  38,  44,        ,      ..  ,., ,  ..   .J.. 

117, 119, 168, 176,  potentialities,  incipiencies,  and  proclivities. 

185  197  205  206 

'  232!         It  would  be  folly  to  predict  the  date  of  this  completion,  of  the  consummation  of 
Signs  of  the  matters  in  prospect.    But  this  much  we  venture  to  aver  that  the  prerequisites  for  the 

Ii™n^ermined  occurreuce  of  this  revelation  of  man  are  at  hand  already,  tho  we  may  not  be  aware  of 

secuiari8«icivuis8tioii.    them,  or  misapprehend  the  constellations  of  the  signs  of  the  times,  if  not  altogether 
disregard  them.    We  simply  contend  for  the  possibility  that  the  collapse  of  our 
underminded  world-civilisation  may  take  us  by  surprise  any  day.    More  than  that, 
wUhouÄea"h*i£''**'"  ^^  want  to  secure  a  position  for  our  conviction,  that  more  than  one  united  counter- 
pres"e^7n?powersof      actlou  of  the  preservlug  powers  of  civilisation  may  be  expected,  too,  before  the  final 
genuine  civilisation.      crlsls  approaches.    There  is  every  reason  to  presume,  that  the  power  of  capital  may 
be  checked  once  more;  also  that  once  more  a  healthy  arrangement  of  political  func- 
tions may  be  established,  as,  for  instance,  against  the  error  of  indiscriminate  majority- 
rule;  and  that  genuine  liberty  may  have  another  lease  of  time.    Nevertheless,  the 
final  catastrophe  will  come  to  pass,  and  illusions  will  come  to  grief. 

§202.    The  approach  of  the  end  of  the  earthly  form  of  existence  is  initiated.  The 
Separation  of  the  coutestlug  powers  are  puttlug  themselves  in  definite  array  and  decided  opposition» 

contesting  powers.  taklug  the  attltude  of  aggressive  animosity  on  the  one  side,  and  of  enduring  resigna- 
JerSition^TCf'*'  ^^^^  ^^  ^^^  other,  both  rejecting  every  idea  of  a  compromise  for  which  no  margin  is 
enduring  left.    The  Separation  of  all  the  nobler  elements  from  the  mass  of  vulgar  dross,  the 

esigna  ion.         draining  off  of  the  metal  from  the  cinders  is  evidently  going  on.     The  key  for  under- 
Both  sides  in  array  and    staudiug  the  struggle  lles  lu  the  inciting  motto:  "Sicut  deus  eritis!" 
rejecting  compromue.  rpj^^  ^hasm  betweeu  the  sacred  and  the  secular  culture  will  come  to  full  view 

Contents  of  the  "sicut    o^lj  »s  we  draw  nearer  to  its  edges.    These  two  spheres  of  development  become  less 
deus".    1 109,  lu.  115.  congruous  until  they  become  extremely  repulsive  to  each  other. 
Final  issues  of  godieu  The  one  Is  that  of  haughty  world-consciousness  attempting  from  its  own  re- 

Mpirations:  souTces  to  be  as  God  so  as  to  be  under  no  religious  obligations.      People  of  that 


II  G.  CH.  XL  §  202.  RETURN  TO  ORIGINS.— BABEL.  371 

tendency  flatten  out  upon  the  surface  of  things  and  spread  into  the  broad  periphery  of  *  po^thl^p'eHph"  ry  of 
worldly  concerns  and  externalities;  detaching  themselves  from  the  high  and  central  detac1IedTom?h; 
fountain  of  pneumatic  influences.  '=«'»*«'^' 

The  other  party  of  meek  and  humble  God-conseiousnese  concentrates  Itself  in  the  t^e  other  concentrated 

„..„  ,,./  ,.  .  .  •,«.  J,  .  '"*<'  intensified  personal 

direction  of  intensified  personal  lite,  and  is  anxious  to  sever  itself  from  the  views  »'e,  severing  itseif  from 

^  ^  worldliness. 

and  propensities  of  the  former. 

Thus  the  chasm  deepens  and  widens  as  the  conflict  proceeds  and  the  crisis  ap- 
proaches. 

There  the  nebulous  outlines  consolidate  into  the  distinct  figure  representing  all  outunesofthefl^re 

*^  representing  all  ttiat  is 

that  is  dark,  base  and  bad.    Here  m  the  growing  glory  appears  the  holy  "image"  at  ^^^^^'Jf/^^'?^'^  "•''^ 
the  head  of  humanity,  tho  only  in  the  refracted  and  many  colored  light  of  thousand- 
fold reflected  rays.   The  bearers  of  His  "image,"  purified  under  the  care  or  in  the  fold 
of  either  catholic  unity  or  Protestant  diversity,  come  to  enjoy  their  blood-relationship  -I'^SeTreAerSnt 
in  the  realisation  of  a  grand  communion;  they  enjoy  it  altho  it  was  brought  about  by  tren/oylhe&of™® 
the  great  pressure  of  common  persecution  and  suffering.    Among  each  other  they  are  *^*  ^"'"^^  communion. 
united  by  love,  whilst  the  abhorrence  of  Godlessness— which  all  of  them  share  in  a  godksXssTquaitothe 
measure  equal  to  their  love  of  their  Savior— separates  them  from  the  lump  of  the  J^e^savio?'"'^*""^"** 
abominable.    For  in  the  general  pollution  of  carnal  appetites  the  "emancipation  of  .,^^^^^.  ^tionof  the 
the  flesh"  in  its  nudity  will  be  proclaimed,  recognisible  as  the  sediment  of  Greek  nat-  fl^sh  -. 
uralness;  whilst  the  golden  calf  will  receive  due  attention  under  popular  round- 
dances. 

Horrible  nondescript  bodies  of  pestilential  gases,  figuratively  speaking  in  the 
sense  of  "physical  analogies",  will  rise  from  that  pool  of  putrefaction,  into  which  all 
the  refuse  of  worldly  culture  from  Shanghai  to  Paris  and  San  Francisco  flows  to-  r^'one'iump!*^  *****  *" 
gether.  History  never  before  witnessed  a  mixture  of  the  Bad  all  in  a  lump,  such  as  will 
then  be  animated  by  the  infernal  lust  of  destruction  and  by  impotent  defiance  of  God. 
Imagination  shudders  at  the  attempt  of  forming  a  conception  thereof,  or  inventing 
a  name  or  analogy  for  it. 

We  had  occasion  to  look  at  the  queer  compound  of  man  and  beast  in  Turano-Mongolian  ^**"'^®^*A'i®D  ^ 
art.  This  wild  froth  rising  from  certain  fermentations  in  the  human  mind,  was  the  expressive  foreshadowed  in 
feature  of  those  dark  regions  where  we  found  the  first  sediments  of  history,  that  substratum  Shamanism. 
covered  up  long  ago,  partly,  however,  lying  open  in  wide  tracts,  to  present  view.    In  Asia  we 
found  it  on  the  surface  in  primitive  massiveness;  upon  the  islands  of  the  Pacific  and  in  Amer- 
ica it  protruded  in  definite  spots ;  in  Africa  we  meet  it  broken   up  into  debris.    The  weird 
forms  of  that  low  stratum  reappear.    Large  parts  of  humanity  will  sink  to  that  grade  of  con- 
sciousness, where  the  human  eye  will  scarcely  be  recognisable,  as  it  looks  up  from  the  repul-     ^**  ^  *^  '^'*'* 
sive  medley  of  beastly  convolutions. 

Then  the  end  of  irreligious  culture  will  return  to  the  region  of  its  beginning  as 
history  does.    Then  may  come  to  full  view  what  at  the  outset  had  only  been  typified. 
Once  we  found,  merely  guessing  from  the  indications  given  by  the  broad  substratum, 
and  regardless  of  the  historic  cycles,  that  a  collapse  of  culture  was  probable.      Based 
upon  this  substratum  we  found  universal  history  to  commence  its  movements  in  de-  bound^consciäcM*" 
finite  curves,  and  to  create  a  domain,  in  which  now,  since  history  presents  to  us  its  defintte"shapt*'of  fee 
plain  facts,  we  recognise  the  unfolding  of  that  type  of  worldliness  seen  in  the  pro-  p'^p*"®*'"  '''^"'°- 
phet's  retrospective  vista.     As  in  a  current  this  history  moved  through  the  broad 
ocean  of  nations,  until  it  forms,  in  the  consciousness  of  the  Christian  nations,  a  unit 
of  experience  comprising  even  people  without  a  history  in  the  usual  sense.    This 
movement  is  distinctly  marked  off  as  to  its  merely  cultural  or  also  civilising  pro- 
gress. 

Adopting  Babylon  in  its  symbolical  import  as  the  historic  point  of  commence- 
ment, we  distinguish  the  successive  ancient  monarchies  down  to  the  Roman  empire,  proc^d  iS7ev"rs1 
each  fulfilling  its  specific  part  in  preparing  the  scene  upon  which  the  world's  Media-  three  fiis"ci?cS-*  * 
tor  took  His  position.    In  reverse  order  Rome  then  begins  an  ascending  scale  of  bXi.  """^ 
monarchies,  until  at  the  close  of  the  recurring  cycles  there  looms  up  the  ominous  anti-  The  ominous  antitype 
type  of  the  figure  seen  at  the  beginning,  resembling  the  Turano-Mongolian  idea  of  bSgilTnS'becom^***'* 
power,  and  presenting  even  its  materialisation.  ^'«'^'« 

If  this  figurative  projecture   of  historical   evolution  could  not  make   clear 
how  the  natural  part  of  history  is  expected  to  wind  up,  then  let  us  say,  that  we  per-  Sslfr^ Sds  «"J  with 
ceive  at  the  close  of  history  that  confusion  and  maddening  fray  of  which  the  name  of  »»bei-uke  confusion. 
Babel  is  proverbial  and  suggestive.    Justified  in  taking  Babel  as  the  arche-type  of 


372 


Comparison  between 
present  involutions  of 
worldly  culture  and  the 
problematic  world- 
monarcy  of  Babel. 


Advance  of  worldly 
culture  always 
accompanied  by  the 
decline  of  true 
civilisation. 

§  I  52,  II  40,  65-69,  78, 
81,  104,  126,  127,  150, 


THE  REPRESENTATIVE  OF  THE  BAD.  11  G.  CH.  XI.  §  202 

worldly  aspirations,  which  press  on  toward  perverted  ideals  of  unity,  freedom  and 
advance,  we  add,  that  the  present  anti-type  reminds  us  of  more  than  titanic  defiance. 
But  in  order  to  understand  the  anti-type  now  revealing  itself,  we  will  have  to  go  be- 
hind the  typical  event  at  Babel  and  to  syllogise  backward  to  where  yonder  dark 
chasm  was  widening  when  history  emerged  from  chaos. 

The  first  foreshadowing:  of  a  worldly  and  organised  consolidation— or  rather  the  rebel- 
lious conspiracy  ag'ainst  the  divine  sovereignty  in  the  narrative  of  Babel— is  instructive  as  tc 
present  developments.  It  reminds  us  of  the  fact  that,  altho  the  nations  have  made 
astonishing  progress  in  mental  culture,  and  are  fitted  out  with  technical  facilities  as  never 
before,  and  stand  upon  heights  of  civilisation  which  afford  much  more  relative 
security  against  the  inimical  powers  of  nature  and  social  miseries:  yet  that,  on  the  whole» 
these  very  nations  of  culture  may  rot  and  decay  under  their  covers  of  safety  and  upon  the 
very  summits  of  civilisation,  since  they  stand  as  distant  from  divine  cultivation  and  discipline 
To  be  further  exhibited  as  never  before.  We  will  be  reminded  of  such  peculiar  occurrences  wherein  the  advance  of 
§  213,  216, 218  worldly  culture  among  the  nations  in  general  was  always  accompanied  by  the  decline  of 
spiritual  culture,  of  true  civilisation.  Those  phenomena,  deserving  special  attention,  will 
be  further  exhibited  in  the  third  book. 

For  the  present,  it  suffices  to  be  reminded  of  the  postulate  that  not  only  a  part  of 
human  nature,  but  man  as  a  whole,  is  to  be  laid  bare  to  the  roots  of  his  being.  Not 
before  will  the  still  deeper  root  of  the  Bad  back  of  him  come  to  view.  No  logic  for- 
bids the  supposition  that  the  gloomy  mystery  of  the  Bad  is  to  be  traced  back  to  where 
it  protruded  from  a  personal  center  and  source.  When  in  the  midst  of  the  times  we 
found  this  mystery  dismantled,  we  acquiesced  in  the  exposure  of  the  instigator  of 
deviltry.  Difiiculties  not  to  be  overcome  in  any  other  way  received  their  solution» 
to  reject  which  would  mean  that  the  Bad  is  to  be  acknowledged  as  being  essential  to 
matter;  that  is,  as  being  an  original  component  of  human  nature. 

The  hearth  upon  which  the  destructive  heat  of  passion  is  kept  aglow— which, 
baffling  every  precaution,  repeatedly  breaks  forth  in  flames  throughout  all  history— 
we  remove  to  a  realm  outside  of  man  and  of  what  belongs  to  him.  Inasmuch,  how- 
ever, as  everything  in  the  universe  makes  man  the  way  and  means  of  its  revelation, 
sin  and  darkness  take  the  same  route. 

Effeminacy  and  cowardice  would  hide  these  facts  from  view,  and  trifle  with 
things  so  stupenduous.  Humanity  is  the  object  upon  which  the  horrible  fiend  fastens, 
in  which  he  seeks  to  personify  himself.  Since  the  evil  one  is  debarred  from  becoming 
incarnate,  he  will  not  cease  to  use  human  nature  as  his  means,  until  he  succeeds  in 
taking  possession  of  one  as  a  vehicle  of  his  ostentatious  demonstrations  and  mystifica- 
tions. Some  person  will  attain  to  the  requisite  maturity  and  adaptness.  The 
enemy  of  the  Son  of  Man,  so  far  tolerated  under  methods  making  him  to  destroy  his 
own  achievements,  will  then  seize  the  opportunity  to  appear  by  his  representative  in 

The  "man  of  sin",  the  "son  of  perdition"  will  then 
discharge  his  assigned  labors  as  the  fruits  of  the  infernal  spirit,  and  throwing  off  all 
disguise,  will  reveal  in  bodily  manifestation  the  substance  of  all  iniquity. 

In  his  nude  immorality  this  product  of  modern  times  and  infernal  designs  strips  himself 
of  every  vestige  of  ideality  of  the  True,  the  Beautiful,  and  the  Good.  He  thus  appears  where- 
ever  modern  man  pushes  away  that  upon  which  his  dignity  is  founded:  the  principle  of  true 
humanism  in  Christianity.  The  ancient  world  did  not  have  this  foundation,  hence  these  ideals 
could  not  then  be  kicked  away.  In  those  times  man  constructed  ideals  of  his  own,  enjoying 
them  without  being  aware  of  the  abyss  beneath  them  and  himself.  These  reflectent  ideals 
were  subsequently  to  become  the  bearing  pillars  of  humanity  upon  the  basis  of  the  Christian 
view  of  life.  Undermine  this  basis  and  the  pillars  tumble  down ;  and  along  with  the  ideals 
man  in  his  real  value  and  significance  falls  from  his  position.  Humanity  is  at  once  subverted 
to  brutality.  The  animal  in  mah,  revealing  itself  more  and  more  in  the  emancipation  of  the 
flesh,  develops  into  the  naked  beast,  fit  to  represent  the  personage  which  is  aptly  designated 
as  "the  beast  risen  out  of  the  sea"  (of  nations). 

An  awful  metamorphosis  takes  place.  Culture  up  to  that  height  of  evolution  appeared 
as  a  beautiful  flower,  which  now  was  thought  to  unfold  into  full  bloom.  Its  roots  ramified 
below  the  layers  of  all  the  historical  strata— as  the  secret  roots  of  all  abomination.  The 
broad,  richly  colored  umbel  bursts  open  and  exhales  its  benumbing,  poisonous  fragrance: 
and  being  admired  as  culture,  it  utilises  its  deceitful  attractiveness.  But  at  the  moment  in 
which  the  true  nature  of  this  deceptive  secret  appears,  that  very  horror  seizes  mankind 
which  is  perceptible  whenever  one  believes  himself  confronted  with  the  world  of  ghosts  and 
apparitions.  Man  gets  into  the  habit  of  dissuading  himself  of  the  reality  of  the  entities 
causing  such  momentary  tremor,  howsoever  thoroughly  it  may  have  penetrated  to  the  core 
of  his  frightened  soul.  But  when  at  last  the  event  occurs  of  which  men  ever  felt  premonitions, 
as  :>f  a  monster  "rising  from  the  sea"  of  nations,  men  will  no  longer  be  able  to  persuade 


Man  as  a  whole  is  to  be 
laid  bare  to  the  roots  of 
his  being — before  the 
still  deeper  root  of  the 
Bad  back  of  hiui  shall 
come  to  view. 
§117,  119,  168,  176,  185. 
197,  201,  205,  232,  233. 


The  Bad  not  essential  to 
human  nature. 


The  hearth  upon  which 
passions  are  kept  aelow 
is  to  be  sought  outside 
of  man  and  what 
belongs  to  him. 


Sin  and  darkness  make 
man  the  instrument,  m 
he  is  the  way  and 
means  of  all  revelation. 


The  Evil-one  himself  is 
debarred  from  becoming 
incapnate. 


His  final  representative   Order  to  arrange  the  final  stroke. 

"the  man  of  sin" 


Present 

indications  as  to 
his  appearance. 

The  ancient  world 
preserved  the  ideals  of 
the  Good,  the  Beautiful 
and  the  True,  because  it 
did  not  possess  the 
Ideal  of  humanity; 
this  therefore  could  not 
then  be  attacked. 


The  basis  of  ideal 
humanity;  being 
undermined  it  becomes 
degraded  to  brutality. 


The  umbel  fully 
developed.  §  73,  77. 


"Beast  risen  out  of  the 


II  G.  CH.  XL  §  203.      MAN'S  CAPABILITIES   (GOOD  AND  BAD)  FULLY  REVEALED.  37» 

themselves  of  the  scare  being:  only  imagrinary.    In  opposition  to  the  miracles  from  on  higrh,  Metamorphoses  of  the 
which  once  were    denounced   as   superstitions  and  impostures,  miracles    will  come  forth  l?""*"  assumed  by 
from  below  to  mock  the  mockers.    What  of  the  evil  eye,  of  black  art,  and  sorcery  ever  and  Christianity. 
anon  cropped  out  and  scoffed  at  the  world  of  enlightenment— whatever  magnetism,  somnambu- 
lism, or  hypnotism,  in  fact  or  by  way  of  delusion,  were  showing  forth  in  faint  and  random  Miracles  from 
phenomena,  will  then  consolidate,  intensify,  and  manifest  itself  as  a  personal,  concrete  power,  below  mocking 
hypnotising  men  by  its  very  hideousness.  The  faces  of  the  strong-minded  even  will  then  turn  ' 

pale,  and  their  bones  will  shake,  when  the  man  of  sin  will  inaugurate  his  reign  of  terror. 

§  203.    It  is  postulated  by  history  that  the  proto-type  of  all  apparitions  is  to  ap-  postulate  of  history. 
pear,  inasmuch  as  man  remains  the  theme  of  history  under  all  circumstances.    Hence 
man  in  both  aspects,  as  to  his  faith  in  God  or  his  enmity  against  Him,  in  what  he 
loves  or  hates,  must  come  to  full  and  public  view.    The  manifestation  of  either  rela-  l^b  "h  aspects,  in  hi» 
tion  is  possible  in  no  other  way  than  through  a  human  being;  just  as  humanism  was  S^t  Him°and  hu 
revealed  to  the  world  from  above  through  the  Holy  Person.    Through  Him  ensued  the  to  be  fully 
work  of  rehabilitating  mankind  by  regeneration.    The  issue  was  a  new  humanity  in  rn^pfrfo^*^ 
the  form  of  a  social  organism,  spread  over  the  whole  world  and  gathered  from  all  na-     \]l'  J^j  YJi'  201'  202' 
tions.    The  work  was  accomplished  through  the  instrumentality  of  the  one,  holy         '205,' 206, 2.32',  233'. 
Church,  which,  tho  hidden  under  many  outward  and  visible  organisations  and  mal-  true  humanisn.  to 

•^  "  culminate  in  a 

formations,  forms  essentially  one  community.    That  portion  of  humanity  which  in  J'e\urnTthe''Medi"atw 
this  historic  connection  is  renewed  into  the  likeness  of  the  Man  from  above,  expects  in  person. 
with  .unfaltering  certitude  the  appearance  of  Him  through  whom  it  came  to  exist,  Expectation  of 
and  with  whom  the  mysterious  inner  life  is  to  be  rendered  perfect  and  public.  ***®  church. 

In  an  equal  manner  the  opposite  society  in  its  organised  form  is  awaiting  its  Expectation  of 
completion.    Instinctively  this  organised  "world"  is  bound  to  expect  something  ^^e world, 
nolens  volens,  and  to  turn  its  expectations  athwart  a  leader— from  below.    The  orgSeÄmu^y 
"world"  demands  that  its  life,  long  doomed  to  secrecy  and  ignominy  by  the  power  of  *Äd^  toö.^s^aiting: 
Christian  custom  and  law,  must  finally  obtain  the  liberty  to  throw  off  its  compulsory  ^""^  '*^  '^^'^^'^ 
secrecy  and  to  triumph  over  these  restraints.      It  will  thus  publicly  proclaim  as  its  Emancipated  Aesh 

•^  ^  *-  ./      X-  claims  to  be  alone 

right,  to  be  alone  acknowledged  worthy  the  name  of  human  existence.  worthy  of  existence. 

Thus  on  both  sides  moral  and  historical  consequences  are  coming  to  a  head  as  a 
matter  of  necessity.    That  part  of  humanity  perpetuating  the  nature-bound  state  of  seductive  influence  of 
old  obtains  its  full  type  and  definite  representation  in  the  man  of  sin  with  his  en-  through  the  "nlTn  of 
chanting  and  demoniacal  attractiveness.  He  comes  with  gifts  for  those  who  are  enrap-  theiii^e  naturaf 
tured  with  Hellenism,  who  revel  in  Buddhism,  or  stagger  in  Shamanistic  frenzy,  humanity. 
This  representative  of  the  merely  natural  humanism  wields  under  alluring  masks  Adherents  of  true 
such  a  seductive  power,  and  puts  himself  into  such  a  broad  attitude,  and  breathes  ilTtrstTn'th^cmcfbi» 
forth  such  fumes  of  death,  as  to  put  the  new  humanity  to  its  last  test  and  to  its  °*  p""*^"'**'°'' 
hottest  flame  of  purification. 

In  the  ethical  and  mythological  chaos  the  small  band  of  the  faithful,  constituting  oppression  and 
the  community  of  humanism  revealed  from  above,  will  stand  lonely  and  defenseless.  Kfuu*""' 
The  nominally  Christian  nations  will,  on  the  whole,  have  purged  themselves  of  those 
elements  which  once  served  as  their  preservatives.    The  historical  movement  will  The  final  fate  of 
then  have  flattened  out  so  as  to  get  along  without  the  spiritual  undercurrent,  and  thi"lcuiarfsed 
will  have  finished  its  course  from  theocracy  through  Church-state  and  State-church-  world : 
ism.    Nations  arrange  their  affairs  according  to  "advanced  principles,"  condemning 
Christianity  to  privacy  as  a  political  nuisance;  tolerated  on  terms  of  time,  it  is  then  condemned  to  privacy, 
deprived  of  its  historical  rights.    The  crowds  of  profane  people,  detaching  themselves  Shts!*''^  °*  ^''***"*' 
from  the  ideals  of  their  ancestors,  and  squandering  their  noblest  inheritance,  will  not 
even  suffer  the  silent  admonition  which  the  mere  existence  of  that  ostracised  congre- 
gation exhibits  to  them. 

The  strangest  coincidence  will  be  that  the  power  of  seduction  and  intimidation  is  wielded  The  part  which  popery 
in  no  small  measure  by  the  very  person,  who,  under  the  venerable  vestments  of  historic  dig-  the^iast  apyLnce^of  "* 
nity  and  the  glimmer  of  three  crowns,  scandalises  his  position  by  abusing  his  former  conserv-  oppressive  measures. 
ative  influences  in  extirpating   non-conformists  on  the  one  hand,  and  in  selfdeification  on  the 
other.    Since,  as  Goethe  observed,  the  conflict  between  faith  and  infidelity  generates  the  pro- 
pelling force  of  historical  development,  it  will  hasten  the  final  crisis.    When  systematic  perse- 
cution grows  hottest,  when  the  arena  and  the  catacombs  again  resound  the  wailings  of  the  Conflict  between  faith 
tortured  and  the  perishing,  then  the  great  change  shall  occur  which  will  take  the  "world"  by  ^P*^  infidelity  had 

_,  .  ,  ,  ,    .  -  ,       .  ,  .    ,  ,     .  ,  always  generated  a 

surprise.    The  simplest  drama  drifts  to  a  closing  act  which  explains  the  plot,  and  redeems  propelling  force. 
expectation  from  its  many  disappointments,    A  chain  of  intervening  fact?  absorbs  the  atten-  Gcethk. 

tion,  whilst  the  most  interesting  theme  seems  to  be  lost;  until  by  a  single  accident  the  triumph 
of  the  good  is  ushered  in,  the  spectator's  suspense  is  relieved,  his  sympathy  satisfied,  his  moral 
sense  reconciled  with  the  completion  of  the  act. 


S74 

The  great 
change  which 
takes  the  world 
by  surprise. 

Christianity  to  partake 

of  the  earthly 
life  of  Christ 

in  all  its  pliases. 

Final 

experiences  of 
Christianity 
equal  to  the 
final  treatment 
of  the  Savior 
at  his  first 
appearance 
under  earthly 
conditions. 

Complete  vindication  of 
the  truth:  "Sicut  deus 
eritis'  .  as  sep!irated 
from  the  "lie" 

§  109,  114,  115,  202. 


Ihe  God-man  ever  the 
prototype 


according  to  which  He 
arranged  and  invisibly 
adjusted  the 
development  of  ' 

humanity  under 
ireed»m  and  necessity; 


and  rendered  the 
solution  of  all  problems 
publicly  manifest. 


Separating  effect  of  His 

reappearance. 

Crisis — last  judgment. 


Workings  of  the  leaven 
becomes  evident. 

§  115,  117,  119. 


All  judged 
according  to 
their  attitude 
towards  or 
against  Him. 

Dark  spirits,  offended 
by  the  triumph  of 
Christ  and  His  cause, 
expelled  from  the 
world  of  men. 

Verdicts  rendered  long 
ago  simply  executed. 

But  for  this  final 
manifestation  of 
justice  history 
would  be  natural 
history  pure  and 
simple ; 

ivonM  reseraV>le  a 
"vanity-fair". 

History  a  well  arranged 
unit,  a  living  organism. 
JhaoK  in  the  end  as  in 
the  beginning,  and  in 
the  middle  of  the  times. 


EQUATION  BETWEEN  EIGHTEOUSNESS  AND  WICKEDNESS.  II  G.  CH.  XI.  §  203. 

A  drama  simply  mirrors  historic  plottings  and  actions.  During  the  developments 
of  history  the  presumptive  claims  and  the  vain  aims  of  the  whole  world  dragged  into 
the  performance,  conceal  from  man  the  leading  theme  of  humanism  under  the 
suffering  of  the  righteous.  The  nations  gradually  eliminate  the  limits  once  assigned 
to  them,  and  identify  themselves  with  the  turbid  mixture  of  the  world's  culture, 
having  flowed  together  through  the  broken  dams.  The  Christian  thought  seems  to 
have  been  swamped,  true  humanism  to  be  lost  in  the  turmoil.  History  seems  to  have 
been  derailed  from  its  track  and  to  end  in  a  complete  failure— all  in  the  manner 
equal  to  the  life  of  the  Great  Kepresentative  of  humanity.  But  just  at  this  instant 
the  great  change  takes  place.  This  climax  is  in  itself  the  closing  argument  in  refu- 
tation of  the  old  assertion:  Sicut  deus  eritis!  The  verdict  now  to  be  rendered  settles 
the  great  historical  litigation.  The  great  truth  implied  in  that  promise— which  in 
its  falsification  symbolises  the  subversion  of  the  truth  into  the  lie,  and  symbolises 
abuse  of  the  truth  for  the  purpose  of  distorting  the  divine  purpose— is  victorious  after 
all.  The  formative  thought,  the  constructive  principle  and  motive  purpose  of  his- 
tory becomes  visibly  evident,  and  the  motto  in  its  true  sense  personified. 

Christianity  alone  possesses  the  ties  and  the  virtue  to  bind  its  adherents  into 
spiritual  unity,  its  ideas  being  realities  and  its  facts  being  ideal.  The  church  com- 
prehended from  the  beginning,  and  in  her  first  exhibition  of  the  truth  gave  testi- 
mony, that  in  the  God-man  is  given  the  proto-type  and  efficient  factor,  together  with 
the  pledge  of  the  final  perfection  of  a  certain  part  of  humanity.  As  the  aesthetic 
sense  of  man  demands  from  works  of  art,  that  the  ideal  sublimity  and  predominant 
thought  animating  the  figure  as  a  whole  should  be  brought  out  by  the  finishing 
touches:— so  the  ethical  sense,  with  still  more  forcible  emphasis,  demands  final  per- 
fection and  equity  of  justice  as  a  matter  of  necessity.  The  Author  of  all  has 
arranged  from  the  beginning,  and  in  the  middle  of  the  time  has  invisibly  regulated  that 
entire  chain  of  development,  interlinking  freedom  with  necessity,  which  we  call  his- 
tory. He,  Himself,  formulated  the  ethical  and  sesthetical  demands  and  laws  of  the 
progressive  movement  in  concurrence  with  the  nature  of  things  in  general.  He, 
Himself,  in  a  conceivable  manner,  at  the  completion  of  the  historical  course,  ren- 
ders the  final  solution  of  the  problems. 

The  decisive  affirmation  of  the  truth  in  the  "sicut  deus  eritis"  must  consist  in  a 
public  manifestation,  through  which  unmistakable  evidence  is  given  to  the  eternal 
value  of  human  ideals,  of  man's  irrevocable  destiny,  and  of  the  final  earnings  of  his 
history.  The  palpable,  visible  appearance  and  reappearance  of  the  Son  of  Man  car- 
ries with  itself  a  decisive  and  a  separating  effect.  It  is  the  last  judgment.  The 
touchstone  or  criterion  of  thoughts  and  acts— concealed  throughout  the  historic  evo- 
lution, so  as  to  be  known  to  faith  only— becomes  then  disclosed  to  all.  The  effects  of 
the  leaven  once  added  to  the  ethnical  lump  and  causing  it  to  ferment:  the  disinte- 
grating and  affiliating,  the  separating  and  organising,  rejuvenating  and  preserving, 
the  judging  and  adjusting  effects  are  all  rendered  visible  as  in  one  grand  cyclorama 
at  the  solemn  second  Advent  of  the  Savior- Judge  in  His  majesty.  His  presence 
throws  light  upon  every  relation,  and  makes  it  clear  why  everybody  is  judged  accord- 
ing to  the  attitude  of  his  own  heart  either  towards  or  against  Him. 

That  which  ought  not  to  have  been  is  separated  and  banished  from  the  world  of 
true  humanity.  The  dark  spirits,  who  cannot  bear  to  see  the  Son  of  Man  and  His 
cause  triumphant,  are  expelled,  and  the  effects  of  their  influences  along  with  them. 
The  condemnation  of  the  Bad,  and  of  its  instigator,  and  of  those  who  by  their  acts 
identified  themselves  with  both,  is  now  manifest  to  the  exclusion  of  all  further  con- 
troversy. The  verdicts  rendered  long  ago,  are  now  simply  confirmed  and  executed  in 
such  a  manner  that  nobody  dares  to  complain  of  injustice  having  been  done  him. 

But  for  this  final  manifestation  of  justice  history  could  not  be  considered  as  the 
sphere  in  which  the  spirit  actuates  itself;  it  would  be  natural  history  pure  and 
simple.  It  would  run  in  the  spiral  lines  of  an  endless  screw  into  the  indefinite  vague- 
ness of  the  blue  ether,  never  of  any  avail,  a  wearisome  mismanagement,  an  unintel- 
ligible Vanity  Fair.  It  would  be  unworthy  of  any  cognisance;  and  we  would  have 
to  despair  of  gaining  wisdom  from  experience.  Nowhere  in  the  history  of  nature  or 
in  universal  history  would  a  purpose  be  conceivable;  we  would  have  to  reckon  with 


n  G.  CH.  XII.  §  204.     GLORY  OF  THE  SON  OF  MAN  REFLECTENT  FROM  REDEEMED  SOULS.  375 

random  quantities  and  the  odds  against  us— a  maddening,  crushing  aspect  from 
which  it  would  be  best  to  turn  away  in  hopelessness.  But  no;  as  it  is,  history  has 
proved  itself  a  well-arranged  unit,  a  living  organism  with  features  the  more  expres- 
sive the  finer  it  became  differentiated;  its  constituent  factors  themselves  determining 
its  issues  and  serving  to  realise  sublime  intentions. 

From  the  original  chaos  man  emerged,  uniting  all  the  natural  polarities  in  his 
own  being;  crowning  the  evolution  of  nature;  containing  within  himself  the  type 
and  theme  of  historical  development.    In  that  chaos  at  the  middle  of  the  times,  when 
the  fabric  of  ancient  contrivances  collapsed,  the  God-man  and  Mediator,  center  and 
source  and  model  of  a  new  humanity,  took  foothold  upon  man's  rough  earth.  Again 
in  the  chaos  of  the  latter  days  will  He  appear  upon  the  scene,  commanding  peace, 
speaking  the  last  verdict,  and  banishing  the  element  of  discord.    Whosoever  agreed 
with  the  mystical  Head,  and  was  attracted  to  Him  as  a  center  of  homogeneity;  who- 
ever did  not  oppose  being  fashioned  into  His  likeness;  whoever  was  engaged  in  ele- 
vating earthly  conditions  and  thereby  cultivating  the  ego;  whosoever  and  whatsoever 
is  fit  to  be   rescued   and   gathered  from  the  collapse  of  worldly  culture:  He  comes  whatever  is  fit  to 
to  take  home  to  His  own  household.     The   members  belonging  to  Him  as  their  ^^e^li^^se^^ 
Head— analogous  to  the  universe  belonging  to  man— He  will  elevate  into  eternal  comes  to  take 
fellowship  with  Himself.  In  the  communion  held  at  this  reunion  humanity  in  its  full-  household!^ 
ness,  perfection,  and  reality  will  be  established.    It  will  complete  the  reconstruction  ^.^  adherent  member* 
of  the  world  of  nations  in  the  whole  extent  of  its  variety  and  differentiations  as  planned  J^^^^/j*^'^^^,^"  "'"  "'^'^ 
before  the  beginning.    At  the  same  time  it  will  become  evident  that  nations  seem- 
ingly inactive,  and  that  tribes  paralysed  from  terror,  deemed   as  having  been  for- 
saken and  void  of  any  culture  whatever— were  really  not  thus  neglected  by  providence-  each  on  his  part 

The  system  of  nations  in  their  gradation,  and  in  their  fractured  condition  all  Jhe  woHd  o^f^^nit^  "* 
over  the  earth,  reveals  the  thought  according  to  which  the  roles  for  each  to  perform,  m^uuTpSrSwent 
were  distributed.    A  rich  variety  of  gifts  and  longings,  aspirations  and  formations  ^JrfeÄtue;^^"'*' 
becomes  known,  none  of  which  was  entirely  in  vain.    Refracted  rays  of  the  thought         ^  ^  ^*  ^''^'  '^*  "^• 
of  humanity  in  many  colors  reflect  the  spiritual  sphere  of  material  or  personal  diver-  t^f  Je^LiÄ/persona! 
sity  under  essential  unity  to  which  all  pertain,  each  representing  a  part  of  that  };*^i"°nd*''**^  *"'°' 
wealth  of  personal  life  which  then  becomes  freed  from  raw  hulls  and  mere  external  malformation». 
malformations. 

CH.  XII.    CONSUMMATION  OF  THE  WORLD'S  HISTORY. 

§  204.    Man  being  a  combination  of  the  natural  and  the  spiritual  world,  it  follows  fart  of  history 
that  history  is  partly  natural  history,  running  in  the  groves  of  physical  law.    The  natural  history. 
final  crisis  therefore  not  only  concerns  humanity  or  the  moral  world,  but  also  the 
natural,  the  visible  universe.  Nature  furnishing  the  corporeal  part  of  man,  it  follows  jj^^^^^  participates  in 
that  with  the  revelation  of  man  also  the  essential  nature  of  the  elementary  world  the  history  of  man. 
shall  be  completely  revealed.  I^'^^^aerVuLV't^ 

At  the  commencement  of  our  investigation  we  took  our  position  upon  the  elevated  ™°^®  "P°°- 
region  where  the  great  mountain  systems  of  Asia  form  their  connection.  There  our  imagina- 
tion took  a  view  over  the  mountain  ranges,  coast  lines,  and  deserts  of  the  earth.    They  all 
aided  in  determining  the  quarters  for  people  to  camp  and  dwell  upon,   and  prescribed  to 
historical  sections  their  boundary  lines. 

Yet  the  earth  is  more  than  the  mere  stage  for  the  historic  movements.    Man  .  ,, 

°  As  it  supports  man  by 

himself  is  fed  by  its  elements.    Iron  and  phosphor,  salts  and  gases,  etc.,  are  the  t^'f^/^juti^^biiit 
building  materials  of  his  body,  and  in  large  measure  condition  his  moods  and  tem- 
perament.   The  human  figure  is  a  child  of  this  earthly  world,  which  nourishes  man 
and  carries  him  around.    But  "mother  nature"  is  not  above  the  nature  of  the  child. 
Our  body  is  subject  to  a  state  of  permanent  decomposition  that  is,  is  continually  '"'J^p*'^*t*^  "^  ™*"'' 
dying;  and  the  earth  will  be  overtaken  by  the  same  fate.    The  body  is  that  by  which  Continual" 'd"'ii!g 
man  becomes  visible,  a  transient  composition  of  tangible  matter.    By  the  concurring 
decomposition  man  as  well  as  matter  is  transmuted  into  something  else,  in  a  sub- 
stance not  visible  to  us.    Hence  the  earth,  too,  is  to  partake  of  the  same  process. 

Karl  Ritter  designates  the  earth  as  "a  peculiarly  organised  cosmic  individual,  an  entity  ™-j^      ^»^  •    , 

sui  generis  with  progressive  development."    Such  the  earth  is  indeed  in  its  whole  construe-   individual,  an  entity 
tion,  in  its  substantiality,  in  the  arrangement  of  its  parts.    On  account  of  this  form  the  earth  ^'  generis  ^^^^  ^^„^^ 
in  essence  is  subject  to  that  form  of  decomposition  which  we  call  combustion ;  that  is,  designed 
for  developing  into  a  new  or  modified  form  of  existence;  the  human  body  is  the  prophet  of 
this  transition. 


376 


THE  END  OF  THE  WORLD. 


n  G.  Ch.  XII.  §  204. 


The  human  body 
is  the  forerunner 
of  the  earth's 
transition. 


Physicist  only  differ  as 
to  the  mode  of 
transformation : 


either  torrid  or  frigid. 

Tyndall  votes  for 
a  fiery  end. 

Dn  Bois- 
Raymond  for  a 
glaciation. 


Natural  science  makes 
man's  destiny  to  depend 
upon  tlie  fate  of  his 
temporary  domicile. 


Scientists  are  of  the 
opinion  that  nature,  not 
the  spirit,  determines 
«he  last  act  of  history. 

§  232. 


Determining  part  of 
the  final  catastrophe 
may  as  well  be  ascribed 
to  the  idea  as  to  the 
«tomach. 


Personal  will,  ruling  out 
the  natural  blind  will  of 
abstraction,  determines 
«he  end, 


Absurdness  of  will  in 
«he  abstract. 


The  crisis  not  only 
tellurian  but  even 
cosmical. 

The  universe  but  the 
broad  basis  of  the 
pyramid  tapering  up  i 
man  its  apex 

i  1,  25,  31,  113,  1 


and  is  to  concur  in  his 
history  and  destiny. 


Purpose,  value  and 
qualitative  weight 
outbalancing 
quantitative 
preponderance. 


Controversies  bearing 
opon  the  problem  of 
inhabitable  orbs  besides 
our  own. 

Chauikbs,  Whewkll, 

FOCKLBB,  PbSCHBL, 
ScBILUMa. 


What,  then,  will  become  of  the  earth?  Viewing  this  question  from  the  stand- 
point of  the  physicist,  we  would  have  to  content  ourselves  with  the  negative  results 
of  either  a  very  torrid,  or  a  very  frigid  mode  of  destruction.  That  the  earth  shall 
once  cease  to  be  is  admitted  by  every  scientific  observer.  They  only  disagree  as  to 
the  diagnosis  of  the  malady  causing  the  final  demise. 

Some  think  the  earth  will  die  of  consumption,  so  to  speak,  that  when  all  the  carbon  and 
nitrogen  will  be  used  up,  organic  life  must  vanish.  Tyndall  clung:  to  the  theory  of  a  fiery  end. 
"By  a  simple  stop  of  its  revolving  motion  the  elements  may  easily  attain  to  that  degree  of  heat 
in  which  they  must  melt". 

Dubois-Raymond  is  of  the  opinion,  that  the  earth  is  doomed  to  glaciation.  According  to 
him  the  last  great  migration  will  rush  from  the  poles  to  the  equator;  people  will  wander  there 
to  keep  warm;  and  when  the  last  inhabitant  of  the  earth  sinks  down  with  chattering  teeth, 
stark  and  stiff , then  the  last  act  of  universal  history  will  be  accomplished.  All  scientists  agree 
that  as  a  matter  of  course  the  fate  of  man  depends  upon  that  of  his  dwelling  place.  The  want  of 
water  would  bring  history  to  a  standstill ;  lack  of  fuel  would  render  history  a  thing  of  the 
past.  Because  of  fire  or  ice  enveloping  the  world,  money  would  cease  to  be  a  power.  "The 
earth  will  then  as  heretofore  swing  around  the  sun ;  but  as  waste  a  body  as  the  moon  now  is". 

In  short,  nature,  not  the  spirit,  is  conceived  as  having  to  say  the  last  word. 

Why  not  reverse  the  matter?  Why  not  concede  the  role  of  taking  the  initiative,  at 
least,  to  the  spirit  upon  essentially  the  same  materialistic  preambles?  Let  us  take  it 
for  granted  that  moral  ideas  were  indeed  the  products  of  nerve-action,  equally 
dependent  upon  the  action  of  the  stomach,  as  the  latter  conditions  the  former. 
What,  then,  would  hinder  us  from  ascribing  the  determining  part  in  the  final  catas- 
trophe to  the  idea  instead  of  the  stomach?  This  has  actually  been  tried.  It  has 
been  said  that  the  will  power,  underlying  all  that  appears,  must  have  accumulated 
sufficient  strength  first  in  the  human  will.  For,  only  in  this  reservoir  is  gathered 
and  contained  that  sum  and  substance  of  will,  which  surpasses  the  force  of  will  in 
the  abstract,  which  is  conceived  as  actuating  all  earthly  matter.  As  soon  as  personal 
will  predominates  over  the  blind  natural  will,  the  end  may  be  brought  about.  That 
will-conveying  substance  which  shall  have  been  transformed  into  human  thought 
may  then  determine  to  stop  willing.  The  abstract  remainder  of  will,  marginal  will 
at  random,  working  merely  as  matter,  must  simply  follow  suit.  Thus  the  end  is  at 
hand,  the  catastrophe  sets  in.  Materialism,  then,  in  either  mode  of  apperception 
agrees  with  us  at  least  in  regard  to  the  end  of  the  world.  Moreover  the  crisis  is  not 
tellurian  but  even  cosmical.  The  sand  of  the  dunes  is  as  much  concerned  in  the  end 
of  the  world  as  the  most  remote  astral  nebulse.  For  this  universe  constitutes  an 
entirety;  and  as  such  it  is  of  no  more  significance  than  that  which  the  earth  bears 
with  reference  to  man.  It  is  but  the  broad  basis  of  the  pyramid  which  we  saw  taper- 
ing up  in  man,  its  apex  and  crown;  hence  this  whole  mechanism  of  the  universe 
must  concur  in  his  history  and  his  destiny. 

Inasmuch  as  in  man  the  whole  fabric  of  visible  things  related  to  him  centers  and  makes  him 
the  microcosm,he,  as  the  center,  determines,  in  the  reverse  order,  the  fate  of  all  his  environ- 
ments. It  is  astonishing,  to  be  sure,  that  the  incommensurable  realms  of  the  skies  should  be 
affected  and  their  destiny  determined  by  the  issues  of  the  comparatively  small  particles  of 
humanity.  The  conclusion  seems  altogether  preposterous.  But  the  matter  assumes  a  differ- 
ent aspect,  if  we  consider  that  appearances  as  to  quantity  are  delusive.  This  whole  subject 
has  been  argued  already.  There  we  had  extensive  and  quantitative  preponderance  in  meas- 
ureless spheres ;  here  we  have  purview  and  qualitative  weight  in  the  smallest  compass ;  there 
masses,  here  values;  there  immensities  of  distance,  bound  up  in  the  mechanism  of  rigid  law- 
fulness, of  natural  necessity,  here  in  man  the  spirit  looming  up,6urpassing  and  encompassing 
that  mechanism  by  free  thought;  there  the  ponderous  question,  here  the  illumining  answer. 
By  the  way  we  may  point  to  the  notorious  controversies  respecting  these  problems, 
since  Chalmers  and  Whewel,  ZcBckler  and  Peschel  of  late  have  written  on  the  multiplicity  of 
worlds.  Pechel,  in  answer  to  those  who  insist  upon  the  utility  and  purposeness  of  those 
worlds— because  they  find  it  unreasonable  that  so  many  stars  should  not  be  utilised  for  dom- 
iciles of  reasonable  creatures  with  a  history  of  their  own— rejoins:  "They  conceive  of  God 
as  if  he  were  a  sort  of  real  estate  broker,  whose  practical  instinct  would  certainly  not  have 
allowed  him  to  build  so  many  houses,  being  afraid  of  getting  no  tenants  for  them".  According 
to  our  former  conclusion  we  are  inclined  to  agree  with  Schelling  who  said:  "God  has  valued 
the  man  of  earth  so  highly  as  to  consider  him  sufficient  for  all  His  purposes.  Man  is  the  final 
aim  of  God,  and  in  this  sense  everything  is  prearranged  for  his  sake".  Thus  we  conceive  man 
as  the  epitome  and  aim  of  creation,  on  whose  account  its  cycles  through  seonsare  focused  from 
extensions  to  intensity.  The  excellency  of  man  is  thereby  exalted  the  higher,  "as  the  basis 
upon  which  he  stands  erect,  is  the  broader".  The  basis  is  the  astral  universe,  "which  none  the 
less  proclaims  the  glory  and  majesty  of  the  Creator",  as  Schelling  emphasises. 


n  G.  CH.  XI.  §  205.     DUALTIY  OF  CONSCIOUSNESS  CEASING— CONCILUTION  OF  CONTRASTS.  877 

The  decomposition  to  which  man  is  subjected  bears  upon  the  transformation  of  pecomposuionofth« 

,,..,,.  .         ,  ,  .     ,  ^         .         .  broad  cosniical  basis 

his  world  with  its  entire  heavenly  periphery.    Our  bodies  and  the  planet  upon  which  *^°"«  ^»"ants  man  his 

,    ..  ^  .  .    ..  .  .  unique  position  above 

we  are  flung  through  space,  and  the  worlds  of  the  universe  are  in  substance  all  one  *"  creatares. 
and  the  same  house  falling  to  atoms. 

Spectral  analysis  demonstrates  this  truth.  It  has  helped  us  to  abandon  the  illusion  of 
an  origin  which  sentimentally  imagined  the  stars  as  clothed  with  the  dignity  of  being  angelic 
abodes.  The  whole  great  edifice  made  up  of  the  same  chemical  and  soluble  elements  must  of 
necessity  undergo  the  same  crisis  as  that  to  which  our  bodies  are  assigned.  Whether  the  pro- 
cess is  called  decomposition  or  combustion  is  immaterial. 

This  bulk  of  compressed  and  irredeemable  life  is  that  which  "ought  not  to  be".    It  is  Repressed  life  a^  far  as 

,.,..,.  ,  ,  .  ».li  .1.  o..  .  ,,  't  remains  irredeemable 

that  which  is  irrational ;  embarrassing  us  whilst  encircling  us,  fastening  us  between  darkness  "ought  not  to  be." 
and  gravity ;  and  torturing  us  with  the  anguish  of  opposing  polarities.  *  *•  *^'  ^''  ^^*'  ^°^'  ^^'^' 

§  205.    Repeatedly  the  different  phases  of  human  life   have  been  enumerated 
which  must  develop  the  course  of  history,  in  order  to  verify  the  proposition  that  his-  SmpKnfoidlngof 
tory  means  the  complete  unfolding  of  man.    Often  it  has  been  attempted  to  show,  "^"  §197,201,202,232, 
how  the  progress  of  evolution  would  gradually   abolish  the  cause  of  such  abnorm- 
ities as  are  undeniable,  whenever  the  actual  condition  of  humanity  comes  under  con-  ^^^^  progress  must 
sideration.    But  never  has  the  demand  been  insisted  upon  that  real  progress  must  in-  ihe'oJpos'iL*S 'wh^ch 
elude  the  abrogation  of  those  contrarieties  into  which  man*s  dual  being  is  divided.  ^^3"  **''^' ^^'"'^ " 
Concerning  the  strained  relations,  we  refer  to  what  has  been  said  about  ''reflecting  §»6,98,175,  m. 

and  unreflected  consciousness."    We  desist  from  reviewing  the  mysterious  capabili-  »uai  form  of 

<=>  "  ^  consciousness. 

ties  concealed  by  the  "night-side   of  soul  lite  which  so  seldom  break  through  "day-  §  is.  37,  m,  m. 

consciousness."    But  we  anticipate  that  in  the  end  the  separation  of  these  two  sides 
of  the  inner  life  shall  cease.    The  strain  between  them  is  caused  chiefly  by  the  en-  polarities  to  cease 
cumbrance  of  our  personal  life  with  our  material  corporeality,  and  is  aggravated  by  and^pintSy.*"*^ 
a  certain  disintegration  of  our  consciousness,  by  discrepancies  among  the  faculties  of  consdolsness""""'' **' 
the  mind. 

From  the  depths  of  each  human  being  conscience  with  its  immediate  feeling  of  j^^^  „^  progress  toward» 
value  manifests  itself  as  the  representative  of  invisible,  holy  realities,  whilst  thought  dem3's°rec"onciiiation 
is  captivated  and  molded  by  visions  on  the  surface  of  this  world  and  its  laws.    In  the  l^l^j^^l""  **'*^  ^""^ 
interior  department  of  the  mind  faith  holds  sway;  whilst  in  this  province  of  the  vis- 
ible, piece-meal  science  insist  upon  its  sole  right  to  give  explanations  and  to  make 
its  judgments  binding.    To  harmonise  the  conflicts  ensuing  from  the  damaged  con- 
dition and  to  bridge  the  chasm,  is  the  demand  implied  in  the  concept  of  progress 
toward  ideality.    This  conciliation  is  a  postulate  of  reason  as  much  as  of  moral 
sentiency. 

But  this  liberation  from  an  unnatural  tension,  this  clearance  of  antitheses  from 
the  strains  of  antagonism  can  only  be  the  sequel  of  the  solution  of  another  question 
and  another  tension. 

Our  environments  in  their  present,  which  we  call  natural,  form  consist  of  nothing  Materiality  of  nature 
but  matter.    But  we  must  remember  that  nature  in  its  present  condition  is  not  ph"eüom"euI*irndveiiing 
natural  in  the  sense  of  true  reality  and  perfection.  The  materiality  of  nature,  render-  „f  aThTrough-goinr"" 
ing  it  merely  a  catena  of  phenomenal  appearances  and  veiling  its  essentiality  is  but  <iist««^ba'»<:e 
the  consequence  of  a  thorough-going  disturbance,  because  of  which  nature  simply 
conceals  the  essence  of  things  and  the  invisible  world  of  our  destiny,  and  distracts 
our  attention  from  it. 

Now  these  hulls  will  drop  at  the  moment  when,  lightning-like  from  the 
sphere  of  the  invisible,  which  blends  with  the  visible  except  as  to  the  usual  concepts 

.  .  .^  .,,1  .J  ■,  a    At  the  appearance  or 

of  spatial  and  temporal  dimensions,  our  Redeemer  will  step  over  into  our  world  of  "the»  man  the  cosmos 

*^  undergoes  a  sudden 

visible    matters.  nietamorphosis  into 


At  the  very  moment  of  this  appearance,  when  the  personality  of  the  Lord  of  crea-  ^sSili  and"^^ 


that  form  of  existence 
ire 
pure. 


'evolution" 


tion  shines  forth,  the  veil  falls  and  the  cosmos  undergoes  the  sudden  metamorphosis 

into  that  form  of  existence  which  is  nature  essential  and  pure.    A  certain  residue,  worid  pos^Ä  by*"'** 

consisting  of  the  cinders  separated  by  the  smelting  process,  becomes  purposeless.  Of 

this  we  can  speak  metaphorically  only,  but  the  analogy  holds  good  in  describing 

the  procedure. 


378 


Science  aims  at 
discovering  laws  for 
snbducing  natural 


TRANSFIGURATION  OF  NATURE* 


n  G.  ch.  xn.  §  205* 


Art  aims  at  the  use  of 
matter  in  representing 
the  ideal. 
Cosniical  elements 
absorb  man's  thoughts 
and  rebel  against  him 
until  they  are  rendered 
subject  to  thought  and 
obey  its  rule. 


The  mind  not  to  be 
diverted  as  tho  it 
had  been  given  for  no 
other  purpose  than  to 
engage  itself  with 
nature. 


Dominion  over  nature 
pot  the  end,  but  the 
means  to  gain  spiritual 
freedom. 


Character  of  miracles  is 
no  more  unnatural  than 
the  unification  of 
physical  and  spiritual 
life  in  man. 


Christ's  command  of 


nature  was  typical 
and  exemplary. 


Reference  to  the 
cosmical  significance  of 
the  resurrection.       §  118. 

Substance  fashioned 
into  instrumentalities  of 
thought. 


Significance  of  the 
earthly  stuff  to  those 
who  are  entitled  to  the 
certain  hope  of  their 
own  bodily  glorification. 


Antagonism  between 
matter  and  mind 
vanquished,  antilogous 
to  ideal-real  formations 
Of  art. 


Yisible  things  changed 
from  being  the 
concealing  garb  of 
reality  into  the  luminous 
environment  of  the  new 
humanity, 

resplendant  with  the 
glory  of  man  made 
perfect. 


Such  a  consummate  perfection  of  the  natural  world  is  postulated  even  by  the  theory  of 
"evolution".  Progress  essentially  consists  in  gaining  control  over  the  phenomena  of  matter 
and  over  natural  forces.  All  exertions  of  science  have  this  end  in  view.  Science  searches  in 
the  heavens  and  upon  earth  for  laws  that  will  make  forces  and  substances  subservient  in 
furthering  the  mastery  of  mind  over  matter.  The  obscure  and  incalculable  domain  of 
accidental  happening  is  narrowed  inch  by  inch. 

Art  pursues  the  same  aim ;  for  it  does  not  content  itself  until  the  resistance  of  matter 
yields  to  thought,  until  it  is  ma4e  to  represent  the  ideal.  This  beingthe  motive  of  all  progress, 
the  goal  of  history  can  not  be  anything  less.  Subterranean  and  sidereal  factors  oppose  the  aspi- 
rations of  man,  as  tho  they  had  conspired  to  rebel  against  him.  They  try  to  absorb  all  his 
thoughts,  to  mystify  them,  and  to  dominate  over  them  in  their  distraction;  until  finally  they 
themselves  shall  be  subjected  to  thought,  and  shall  be  made  to  obey  its  rule. 

The  subjection  of  elementary  nature  will  not,  however,  be  accomplished  by  hy- 
draulics, screws,  and  nerve-reflex-action;  and  as  little  by  chemistry  as  by  mechanics. 
Dominion  will  not  be  attainable  merely  by  inventing  contrivances,  as  tho  the 
mind  had  been  given  for  no  other  purpose  than  to  engage  itself  with  nature;  as  tho  the 
mind  was  to  be  but  the  means  of  overcoming  it.  The  purpose  intended  by  charging 
man  with  dominion  over  nature  is  not  in  the  first  place  subjugation  of  creatures, 
but  man's  own  spiritual  freedom.  No  mind  but  that  which  is  freed  from  its  nature- 
bound  state  will  surpass  physical  power  with  an  authority  approximate  to  that  which 
was  at  the  disposal  of  the  Mediator. 

This  indicates  and  postulates  a  peculiar  method  of  final  consummation.  All  the 
power  which  the  Mediator  wielded  over  obdurate  physical  environments  is  made 
conducive  to  man's  spiritual  independence.  This  is  to  be  inferred  from  the  descrip- 
tion of  His  deeds  in  the  Book  of  the  Nations.  This  dominion  over  nature  can  neither 
be  wrought  through  physical  arrangements  nor  by  skill  in  any  secret  art.  Tho  mira- 
culous, Christ's  authority  over,  and  command  of,  nature  was  natural,  nevertheless; 
precisely  as  natural  as  the  perfect  unification  of  personal,  that  is,  true  physical  and 
pure  spiritual  life  within  Him.  Christ's  command  over  nature  was  typical,  and  in  its 
kind  exemplary,  altho  as  to  its  degree  we  must  abstract  from  that  nature  which  in 
our  Savior  was  screened  by  our  nature  in  its  dependent  state.  In  the  glorified  cor- 
poreality of  the  Risen  One  we  observed  the  mode  of  that  permeation  of  the  corporeal 
by  the  spiritual  substance  which  typifies  and  warrants  the  final  transfiguration. 
This  resurrected  body,  the  first  sample  and  pattern  of  a  new  kind  of  humanity,  repre- 
sents the  unity  of  spirit  and  nature  in  its  perfection.  This  modified  and  purified 
nature  is  no  longer  dead  and  obstinate  matter.  It  is  simply  matter,  or  rather  the  es- 
sence of  substance,  in  the  form  of  entire  subjection  to  the  spirit;  it  is  substance  fash- 
ioned into  the  instrumentality  of  thought.  Matter  now  solely  serves  to  express 
thought  in  its  willing  and  constructive  capacity.  Elementary  substance,  tho  elevated 
into  a  higher  state,  becomes  no  more  than  pure  nature,  except  that  it  is  now  visible 
in  its  true  reality,  as  that  essence  of  things  which  lies  beyond  the  mere  phenomena. 

Those  possessing  the  marks  of  membership  in  the  mystical  body  of  which  the 
Mediator  is  the  Head,  view  the  material  world  in  this  sense.  To  them  the  stuff  in 
nature  has  no  more  nor  less  significance.  Their  life's  work  consists  in  persevering  to 
penetrate  and  permeate  material  nature  with  spiritual  life,  tending  toward  glorifi- 
cation. Thought  pure  and  simple,  the  idea  of  development,  and  every  analogy  in 
nature  postulate  a  glorification  of  their  bodies. 

Thought  proposes  or  anticipates  no  more  in  this  respect,  than  that  which  every 
noble  creation  of  pure  art  indicates,upon  which  all  works  of  sculpture,literature,paint- 
ing  and  music  inadvertently  are  bent:  namely,  the  conciliation  of  mind  and  matter  in 
real-ideal  formations.  Thought  cannot  rest  satisfied,  unless  that  final  reconciliation 
is  perfected  in  real  forms,  by  way  of  the  transformation  of  elements  under  the 
direction  of  thought  into  the  state  of  their  essential  nature  and  purity,  by  van- 
quishing the  antagonism  between  matter  and  mind,  and  by  bringing  both  of  them 
into  full  harmony. 

Thus  the  Coming  One  is  to  be  adored  as  the  Great  Artist,  applying  the  finishing 
touch  to  what  was  invisibly  prepared  in  His  militant  congregation  upon  the  small 
earth.    He  is  the  Master-builder,  projecting  the  restoration  of  the  beautiful  to  its 


n  G.  CH.  Xn.  §  206.  NECESSITY  OF  NATURAL  LAW  AT  AN  END.  379 

place  in  glory.  With  His  appearance  visible  nature  will  be  transformed  from  a  con- 
cealing garment  of  the  spiritual  realities  into  a  luminous  environment  of  the  new 
humanity  in  its  glorified  corporeality. 

It  is  in  the  sphere  of  this  unified  personal  and  sublimated  corporeal  life  that  me  rupture  of  onrdua 
the  discords  between  matter  and  mind  are  overcome  and  harmoniousness  prevails,  «««^«iousness  he*ied. 
Here,  consequently,that  rupture  also  is  healed,  by  which  our  being  in  its  present  con- 
dition is  distorted,  so  that  we  are  crossed  and  recrossed  by  "reflecting  and  unreflected 
(or  sub-)  consciousness",  by  the  seeming  contradictions  of  faith  and  science,  of 
divining  and  knowing.  This  conciliatory  and  redeeming  consummation  is  pledged  in 
the  first  and  second  advent  of  the  Lord,  our  Mediator  and  Redeemer. 

,1/1    -^r^^A     4-^    -l-^^-^^l       ^v,.„.v„    „   .,,.„„ 

not  from  sua  di«tauc«a. 

hither  from  sun-distances  into  the  present  dimensions  of  space.  For  even  now  He 
stands  in  the  center  of  all  things  and  affairs ;  embracing  all,  tho  concealed  and 
unapprehensible. 

Unknown  He  dwells  in  His  own  Household.  The  incognito  of  the 

His  presence  is  analogous  to  that  of  the  hero  among:  the  suitors  of  whom  the  myth  '^'■*'- 
speaks.  These  frivolous  guests  behave  boisterously  in  his  own  halls,  debauching  his  property, 
drinking  his  wine,  courting  his  wife,  not  knowing  that  the  master  of  the  house  is  present.  He 
observes  them,  not  from  afar.  He  moves  among  them  in  lowly  garb,  a  stranger,  whom 
the  spendthrifts  take  for  a  beggar.  But  suddenly  he  makes  himself  known,  throwing  aside 
the  concealing  enclosures.  The  frivolous  lips  grow  pale,  for  the  debauchers  stare  at  him  with 
ghastly  horror,  seeing  now  what  they  alleged  to  be  "Unknowable". 

The  mere  dropping  of  the  incognito  amounts  to  a  criterion,  deciding  the  crisis  of  Crisis  at  the 
the  last  judgment.     It  transpires  in  a  manner  analogous  to  the  discharge  of  the  '  ^^®**   ^^  • 
electric  spark  into  a  chemical  composition,  instantaneously  separating  the  elements. 
Under  the  effects  of  this  sudden  reduction  the  most  hidden  ingredients  become  dis-  .^^ 
cernable.    In  separating  the   mixture         electrosis  sets  free  the  affinities.    The  dis"chlrge  of L  electric 

n  .-,        t  r     ■•  •     J  •,-.  1  i,  iv>i         mi  J-.      J         •    .  .       flux  into  a  chemical 

appearance  of  the  Mediator  will  produce  the  same  effect.    Thus  that  crisis  comes  to  composition. 
completion  which  began  when  "the  word"  was  discharged   into  that  sweltering 
compound  in  the  Roman   crucible.      The   precipitate   of  the  compound,  falling  ÄSw?proce*i*begun 
away  from  the  purpose-thought,  will  sink  to  the  bottom  as  a  caput  mortuum.  discharged  i^Tto^^he"^^ 

compound  in  the  Roman 

§  206.    This  crisis  brings  out  still  another  sequel.  cruciwe. 

If  the  magnetic  bar  approaches  a  surface  strewn  with  iron  particles,  they  show  £"™"h  £* chrisvs 
agitation  as  if  animated  with  life  from  above;  their  susceptibility  for  the  attractive  adherents  iiius"ated  by 
force  is  awakened.  They  rise  to  meet  that  force  attracting  and  governing  them.  As  soon  magnet, 
as  nearness  permits,  the  law  of  gravity,  binding  them  down,  is  rendered  powerless  by 
the  higher  force  of  magnetic  attraction.    The  loose  particles  give  themselves  up  to 
the  strong  influence  of  affinity,  adhering  to  it,  and  being  held  up  and  held  together 
by  it. 

By  virtue  of  the  homogeneous  efficient  the  dormant  receptivity  was  quickened.  JuSndingto*ei.wo« 
We  have  the  phenomenon  of  corresponding  essentiality  and  polarity,  in  the  approach  »''*^'*y 
of  which  the  particles  find  their  hold  and  their  rest.    The  bar  imparting  its  force 
bears  them,  with  sufficient  power  to  keep  them  safe,  over  the  chasm  which  opens 
beneath,  because  of  the  suspension  of  the  law  of  gravity. 

This  is  a  physical  analogy  of  the  process  in  which  the  Head  of  humanity  attracts  so  must  christians 
to  Himself  all  who  throughout  the  course  of  history  opened  themselves  to  His  influ-  aS^ive^pow!  **** 
ence,  and  who  are  drawn  to  Him  through  a  sympathy  mocking  every  law  of  natural 
necessity. 

Furthermore;  the  persons  thus  attracted  and  held  together  by  the  Mediator  become 
instruments  themselves  for  the  further  communication  of  this  attractive  influence. 

In  a  manner,  equal  to  the  spirit  being  the  center  and  core  of  the  human  being  in  Humanity  proper  is  to 
the  concrete,  is  humanity  the  center  and  essence  of  the  natural  world,  the  remotest  sSfrü"  ouH!  Äe**" 
spheres  of  the  visible  universe  included.     Inasmuch  as  this  physical  universe  cen-  *'"'"'"'  ^''^^' 
ters  in  the  human  body,  it  is  also  encompassed  by  the  spirit.    The  human  body  is  the 
locus  and  medium  of  unification,  the  organism  in  and  through  which  the  elevation  of  The  transition  from 
the  natural  into  the  spiritual  sphere  is  to  be  effected,  the  fabric  where  the  assimila-  "pirltuaiisation  |oes 
tion  is  initiated.    In  the  connection  of  the  body  and  spirit  the  physical  world  as  an  iife°of  mln^."^"**"* 
entirety  is  apprehended,  appropriated,  and  pervaded  by  the  mind  alone.    By  way  of 
27 


380 


A\\  arrested  life  bound 
up  in  matter  is  virtually 
liberated  by  Clirist. 
under  condition  of  the 
ethical  process 
prescribed  in  the  order 
of  salvation  and  in  the 
order  of  things  In 
general. 

I  7,  9,  30,  41,  116,  117, 
157,  158, 159,  177, 


•Corporeality  the  end 
of  all  of  God's  ways." 


History  at  rest  and 
complete  only  after  this 
consummation. 


Buman  nature  to  reach 
perfection  in 
multiplicity  exhibiting 
the  gifts,  and  tasks  as 
fully  developed  and 
accomplished  in  all 
directions  and  every 
relation. 

1 10.  13,  15,  l9,  25,  38, 

117.  119,  168,  176,  185, 

197,201,205.232. 


All  possible  incipiences 
revealed. 


▲II  potentialities  free 
«nd  at  man's  disposal. 


The  fruit,  the 
reproduction  of  the  seed. 


The  visible 
universe  solely 
exists  for  the 
maturation  of  its 
hidden  secret— a 
new  humanity. 


Picture  of  the  intricate 
arrangements  of 
Providence  in  executing 
the  plan  of  the  world : 


"COEPOREALITY  THE  END  OF  ALL  GOD'S  WAYS."         II  G.  CH.  XII.  §  206i 

personal  life  is  nature  conducted  upward  into  new  relations  and  functions,  which 
were  never  thought  of  in  the  lower  sphere  of  natural  life  left  to  its  own  helplessr 
ness. 

Under  the  same  rule  of  order  the  physico-psychico-pneumatic  humanity  is  as- 
sumed, adopted,  and  conducted  into  higher  relations,  functions  and  beauty,  by  the  God- 
man  to  whose  likeness  humanity  is  to  be  restored.  When  he  took  to  Himself  human 
nature  and  corporeality,  even  in  its  dilapidated  condition,  this  restoration  was  His 
object.  But  because  of  the  dilapidated  condition,  the  elevation  is  of  necessity  condi- 
tioned by  the  ethical  process  prescribed  in  the  order  of  salvation. 

Jesus,  by  virtue  of  His  own  holy  personality— having  substantiated  the  union  of 
corporeality  and  divine  spirituality,  and  having  glorified  natural  life  as  well  as 
personal  life— conducts  in  and  through  Himself  the  natural  world  back  to  its  ideal 
and  true  form  of  being.  At  His  final  appearance  He  bodily  transfigurates  the  mem- 
bers of  the  humanity  belonging  to  Him  as  His  body,  into  the  state  of  glory— and 
Heaven  and  earth,  belonging  to  them  as  their  body,  He  transforms  along  with  them. 
Thus  the  retardations  and  delinquencies  of  life  in  general,  spoken  of  in  the  prelimi- 
naries, are  finally  also  made  good. 

"Corporeality  is  the  end  of  all  the  ways  of  God."  First  in  order  the  Savior's  dead 
body  was  lifted  up  in'radiant  glory;  and  in  the  end  each  member  of  His  organically 
connected  new  humanity  will  be  lifted  up  in  its  own  spiritualised  corporeality,  fully 
conformed  to  the  spiritual  character  contracted  and  built  up  during  its  preparatory 
state.  And  with  that  host  of  the  redeemed  made  perfect,  the  visible  cosmos,  so  intrin- 
sically connected  with  humanity  as  to  belong  to  it,  will  be  transformed  into  the 
purity  and  beauty  of  a  temple-like  habitation. 

Not  before  this  has  taken  place  can  the  full  development  and  completion  of 
history's  course  be  realised.  As  creation  in  its  entirety  and  whole  compass  was 
designed  and  planned  for  the  appearance  of  man,  so  the  New  Heaven  and  the 
New  Earth,  and  the  labor  of  history  with  its  weal  and  woe,  is  only  complete  with 
man  made  perfect.  In  the  Son  of  Man  and  Mediator  this  completion  of  humanity 
was  reached  in  the  single  specimen  as  its  type.  Not  before  human  nature  has  reached 
perfection  in  its  multiplicity,  exhibiting  the  gifts  and  tasks  as  fully  developed  in  all 
directions  and  relations,  will  the  theme  of  history  in  its  innumerable  variations  be 
exhausted.  That  is,  the  august  figure  of  man  can  only  be  expected  to  appear  under 
the  intonation  of  the  closing  accords,  when  with  the  glorification  of  man's  personal 
life  that  main  discord  is  solved,  which  divided  his  nature  into  body  and  spirit  with 
two  forms  of  consciousness.  Corporeality,  after  being  pervaded  and  permeated  by  the 
free  spirit  and  rendered  its  instrument  without  any  conditional  reserve,is  no  longer  an 
encumbrance.  No  longer  is  incipient  potentiality  bound  up  in  occult  mysterious- 
ness  and  withheld  from  the  use  of  its  possessor.  For  personal  man  as  a  mem- 
ber of,  and  in  connection  and  communion  with,  the  universal  Head  of  humanity, 
then  possesses  and  fully  enjoys  true  freedom.  Then  he  comprehends  himself  as  the 
miracle  and  conundrum  of  the  ages,  as  the  seed  ripe  for  the  harvest,  as  the  final  aim 
of  history.  We  may  describe  this  fulness  metaphorically,  for  that  which  Goethe 
said  is  true:  "Every  thing  transient  is  but  a  parable  of  transcendental  reality." 

A  plant  in  its  whole  organism  of  cells  and  fissures,  of  roots,  stems,  and  branches,  up  to 
its  foliage  and  blossom,  serves  but  one  single  purpose— the  fruit.  The  fruit— tantamount  to 
the  seed,  which  was  the  ultimate  source  of  its  being  and  growth,  and  which  is  but  reproduced 
in  the  fruit— was  from  the  time  of  sprouting  the  final  aim  of  the  seed.  And  tantamount  to 
plant-life,  only  mirroring  on  a  small  scale  the  purpose  of  the  entire  universe,  is  the  process 
of  fruitbearing  going  on  in  humanity,  for  the  sake  of  whose  protective  concealment  this  visi- 
ble universe  solely  exists.  This  is  the  mystery  which  the  universe  preserves  and  silently 
matures  hiding  in  its  lap.  Its  secret  is  the  seed  unfolding  and  ripening.  This  is  what  the 
visible  creation  amounts  to  in  relation  to  its  secret— renewed  humanity. 

Pressing  the  parable  a  little  further,  we  see  at  first  the  extensive  green  outlines  of  ver- 
dure. Then  we  look  closer  and  admire  the  tender,  richly  colored,  and  fragrant  calix  of  the 
fl,ower,  telling  of  plant-life  intensified,  of  the  bliss  of  nascency.  It  contains  the  mystery  of  the 
plant  as  in  a  sealed  envelope :  the  new  life  germ  seeming  so  insignificant  as  compared  with 
the  beautiful  bloom.  This  cup  contains  the  blessing;  the  pistil  and  ovary  enclose  the  future 
life.  The  new  seed  in  its  receptacle  is  the  aim  of  the  whole  fabric  of  plant-life:  with 
its  extensive  crown  of  foliage,  with  its  splendid  child  of  the  season— the  blossom.    When 


II G.  CH.  Xn.  §  206.  THE  FINAL  CONSUMMATION.  381 

the  seed  is  formed  the  beauty  of  the  blossom  may  fade  and  wilt;  the  outward  foliaee  may 
sink  to  decay ;  they  all,  even  the  old  tree,  having  served  their  end.  The  seed  ripens,  absorbiner 
all  the  interest  and  energ^y  of  the  plant.  And  the  seed  alone  contains  the  wealth  of  the  har- 
vest exceeding:  by  far  the  value  of  that  which  is  to  perish. 

The  wide  compass  of  the  visible  cosmos,  the  glittering  garb  of  earthly  and  astral  SlreVySfeenSre^  - 
splendor  is  merely  the  enclosure  of  the  next  and  narrower  compass— the  world  of  hu-  compos  the  worid'^r 
manity.    This  in  itself  again  contains  the  Church,  bearing  the  seed,  and  with  it  the  humanity. 
secret  and  life  of  the  future.    When  the  veilings  of  the  visible  church  are  dropped  she 
will  step  forth  in  her  beauty  as  the  kingdom  of  Heaven  in  the  triumphant  state  of  env^Sthi^Vurch! 
perfection;  and  if  we  adopt  the  new  humanity  as  the  final  product  and  fruit  of  his-  i^^rlilf^uZfm^^*^'' 
tory,  then  we  have  utilised  in  our  way  that  concept  by  which  Origen  once  pictured  ^^  ^^^^^^^  triumphant 
to  himself  the  intricate  arrangements  of  Providence  for  executing  the  plan  of  the 
world. 

We  go  even  further.    For,  since  the  intensified  center  of  creation  has  appeared  in  St.Tt  and  prÄ  o?""^ 
its  perfection,  there  proceeds  from  this  apparent  mean  or  middle  a  reproductive  and  history.  obio«». 

regenerative  power  affecting  the  most  peripheral  spheres.    This  widest  environment  Amidst  the  scenes 
rotates  around  man  as  its  axis;  it  feeds  him  and  becomes  alive  within  him.    And  it  is  witnessing  to  his  activity 

'  man  is  judged  according 

amidst  the  scenes  of  this  widest  sphere,  that  man  is  judged  according  to  his  ways  of  ^ea^dystM  wiirseTf'to* 
adjusting  his  relations  to  that  environment,  judged  according  to  the  manner  in  which  ^riphery  *°'^*^* 
he  has  treated  the  center  and  the  periphery.    Upon  that  scope  man's  actions  forever 
remaining  his  own  as  witnessed  by  these  scenes,  give  testimony  in  public  for  or  "ceifhisTeeds**** 
against  him;  and  there  the  completion  of  his  renewal  takes  place:  all  in  the  face  of  JPj^''^*»''^  °*  ""^ 
the  original  Image  in  whose  reappearance  man  recognises  himself— a  recognisance  d^nuis  oTtheriUcrets 
which  reveals  his  secrets  to  the  world,  putting  to  shame  all  the  denials  of  these  se- 
crets, too.    It  is  then  that  man  finds  himself  surrounded  by  a  new  world,  in  full  pos- 
session of  all  his  original  gifts,  in  the  free  use  of  primitive  incipiencies,  all  unfolded 
into  a  glory  and  majesty  beyond  all  that  ever  could  have  been  imagined.    It  is  the  torS^erpiafned  li  the 
radiance  of  what  was  formerly  the  secret  of  humanity,  in  which  the  wonder  of  the  Hfil^i.'lt  ^"'"^ 
world  is  now  rendered  intelligible;  which  in  throwing  its  light  upon  the  great  pur- 
pose of  history— explains  it  all  from  the  aspect  of  its  consummation. 


BOOK    THIRD 


Vh 


e 


u^roblems  of  J^istorics. 


Div.  A.— Enigmata  of  History. 
**    B.— Results  of  History. 


RIDDLES  AND  RESULTS  OF  HISTORY. 


SYLLABUS. 

Should  the  closing  part  of  this  work  contain  merely  a  retrospective  summary, 
which  the  student  might  expect  to  find  therein,  it  would  be  superfluous.  The  arrange-  't«™*- 
ment  in  two  divisions  of  the  material  reserved,  is  to  show  certain  groups  of  pheno- 
mena diagrammatically  drawn  and  placed  in  proper  light  under  the  definite 
aspects  suggested  by  the  plan  of  history.  This  is  done  in  order  to  answer  with  the 
utmost  possible  degree  of  correctness  such  questions  as  have  forced  themselves  upon 
the  observer's  attention  without  finding  satisfactory  solution  at  the  time,  simply 
because  it  was  during  the  previous  considerations  deemed  better  not  to  interrupt  the 
connection. 

The  nature  of  the  items  thus  postponed  requires,  that  they  be  treated  according  General  topics: 
to  their  interrelations.      Presented  as  thus  classified  the  phenomena  may  be  sub-    '  p^pos«  in  finality. 
sumed  in  the  first  division  under  the  topic  of  purposive  finality.    The  second  is  for 
the  investigation  of  matters  bearing  upon  the  progressive  and  well  planned  movement 
of  history  toward  the  goal  ascertained. 

We  are  used  to  having  attention  called  to  the  problems  here  involved  by  the  in-    „  Progress  aft«  a 
quiry,  whether  a  steady  and  incessant  progress  could  be  proven,  in  what  it  consists        p^*°- 
and  where  it  is  going  to  end. 

We  must  refer  to  former  passages  pointing  out  where  the  real  results  of  develop- 
ment are  to  be  looked  for.  Anent  thereto  the  desire  for  surity  as  to  the  goal  grows 
more  vivid.  Hence,  inductive  investigation  is  called  for, explicity  specifying  the 
gradual  degrees  which  designate  the  height  of  real  attainment  in  the  advance  of 
civilisation. 

This  may  properly  be  done  in  the  conclusion,  where  once  more  the  closing  scenes 
of  earthly  history  come  to  be  contemplated.  We  shall  not  fail  there  to  bring  to  no- 
tice a  few  circumstances  in  proof  of  the  fact,  that  the  essence  of  all  things,  affairs 
and  thoughts  must  become  manifest  in  the  end. 


A.    FIRST  DIVISION.— ENIGMATA  OF  HISTORY  WITH 
RESPECT  TO  THE  PURPOSE. 


Never  will  history  become  to  us  more  transparent  than  we  are  to  ourselves.  From  indnctive  investigation 
unfathomable  depths  within  us  arise  feelings  and  sentiments,  thoughts  and  recol-  development  towards  it» 
lections  and  divinations  apparently  without  connection  and  even  contradictory— yet  *'*'*^' 
ever  firmly  cleaving  to  consciousness. 

Doubtless,  these  phenomena  occur  according  to  certain  laws,  however  enigmati- 
cal they  may,  for  the  time  being,  remain  as  to  their  sources  and  their  bearings.  This 
holds  true  with  regard  to  nations  as  well  as  individuals.  A  tew  additional  empiric  SuSt^dthln'^we 
truths,  relevant  to  consciousness,  will  therefore  engage  our  attention.  We  single  out  ou^efv'^.'^'^^''' 
such  questions  as,  if  at  all  solvable,  will  afford  stronger  light  upon  the  course  of 
history  as  a  whole.  Conclusions  on  that  score  are  to  prepare  us  for  considering  the 
problem  of  the  world's  government  on  the  line  of  inductive  reasoning.  To  avoid 
much  tarrying  concerning  a  few  minor  points  the  remembrance  of  a  few  data  already 
adduced  is  presupposed. 


PRESSURE  OF  ENVIRONMENTS. 


m  A.  Ch.  I.  §  207. 


Government  of  th« 
■world. 

People»  who  remained 

"children  of 
nature", 

»na  those  who  represent 

cultural  relapses. 

"Products  of 
degeneracy"  rather 
"mummified  nations". 


Processes  among 
ethnical  elements 
analogous  to 
transformations  going 
on  in  cosmical  matter. 


Superabundance  of 
savage  life. 


Causes  of  arrested 
development : 

Polarities 

missing  which  caused 
differentiation. 


Pressure  of 
environments 

missing  which 
invidualises  and 
generates  organisation 

Instead  of  the  missing 
factors  much  to  be 
observed  *hich 
'ought  not  to  be''. 

Enigmatical  excess  of 
births  and  deaths. 


Civilisation  means 
death  to  barbarism. 


Peoples  succumb  if 
unqualified  to  enure 
themselves  to  the 
civilising  process. 


Ethnical  refuse  fast 
disappearing. 


As  organic  formations 
are  frequently  found 
imbedded  in  rocks, 


so  are  nature  bound 
peoples  enured  to 
customary  indigencies 
without  becoming 
conscious  of  their  low 
state  of  being. 


Unprogressiveness 
rendering  further 
degeneration  impossible, 


CH.  I.    NATURE-BOUND  PEOPLES  AND  MUMMIFIED  NATIONS. 

§  207.  With  reference  to  former  disquisitions  some  additional  remarks  are  nec- 
essary concerning  peoples  who  remained  "children  of  nature"  and  others  who  appear 
as  fragmentary  remnants  of  primitive  aboriginal  culture. 

The  children  of  nature  are  found  in  those  regions  and  in  that  condition  always 
peculiar  to  them  as  far  as  history  affords  any  knowledge  of  the  ethnical  fragments. 
For  reason  of  their  stationary  existence  they  are  to  be  considered  as  memorials  of  cul- 
tural relapses.  They  have  been  called  "products  of  degeneracy."  Many  of  them  may 
more  appropriately  be  designated  as  mummified  nations. 

The  nocturnal  heavens  show,  beside  the  stars  with  color  and  strengfth  of  ligrht,  nebulae 
with  a  faint  and  dusky  grleam.  These  are  heaped  up  around  nuclei,  or  appear  to  be  dust-like 
masses  of  exploded  worlds.  In  fancy  we  witness  a  continual  process  of  coming:  and  passing^ 
away ;  we  perceive  therein  at  any  rate  transmutations  of  cosmical  matter.  Some  astral  ele- 
ments are  gathering  and  consolidating,  whilst  others  dissolve  and  disperse  into  space— yet  the 
region  of  those  occurrences  can  ever  be  traced  and  pointed  out. 

Similarprocesses  are  observable  among  the  ethnical  elements,  where  equal  transmuta- 
tions are  continually  transpiring.  Comparing  this  ethnical  material  to  a  tree  with  many 
branches  spreading  over  the  earth's  entire  surface,  ever  prolific  in  the  production  of  new 
nations  as  its  clusters  of  blossoms,  we  find  most  of  the  blossoms  barren — nations  which  seem 
to  lack  every  trace  of  culture,  which  show  absolutely  no  progress. 

Such  nations  with  no  historical  record  or  import  are  designated  savages. 

How  and  why  did  they  become  arrested  in  their  development?  Wo  may  say  that 
they  were  wanting  in  those  requisites  which  cause  differentiation— the  polarity  of 
personal,  domestic  and  social  life.  But  more  than  that  is  there  missing  the  pressure 
of  environments,  which  individualises  and  generates  social  peculiarities  by  prompt- 
ing peoples  to  organise  into  separate  vocations  and  classes. 

Instead  of  those  missing  factors  a  great  deal  becomes  evident  of  something  which  "ought 
not  to  be",  as  Schelling  expressed  it.  This  arrest  of  organic  life  on  the  scope  of  humanity 
ought  to  be  no  more  than  the  excess  of  births  and  deaths  in  the  physical  world  at  large. 

We  are  reminded  of  a  factory  of  compressed  yeast,  producing  five  tons  per  day,  so 
that  the  daily  crop  of  incubated  microscopic  fungi  amounts  to  200,000  millions.  Every  large 
wave  of  the  ocean  carries  with  it  innumerable  jelly-fishes  which  are  thrown  ashore  to  dry  up 
upon  the  sands.  The  houses  of  billions  of  the  small  scacalaicse  became  their  coffins;  they  had 
to  die  on  the  coasts  of  the  Baltic  or  the  Pacific  that  their  cysts  might  form  limestone  and  chalk. 
Those  births  and  deaths  in  such  masses  involve  riddles  of  historic  import ;  for  we  meet  a  cor- 
responding excess  in  the  human  world. 

It  seems  strange  that  Christian  culture  should  cause  entire  races  to  succumb 
because  of  being  disqualified  to  adjust  themselves  to  that  which  means  death  te 
barbarism.  But  the  drift  of  history  goes  to  unification.  Civilisation  draws  societies, 
and  finally  the  remotest  circles  of  nations  ever  closer  together  in  the  ratio  of  shorten- 
ed distances,  until  the  entire  ethnical  mass  becomes  one  large  body  with  many  mem- 
bers for  different  functions.  This  embodiment  of  the  civilising  thought  cannot,  of 
course,  assume  its  adequate  shape,  unless  elements  capable  of  improvement  are 
assimilated,  or  others,  proving  unfit  to  accustom  themselves  to  the  civilising  process, 
are  expelled  or  perish.  Just  at  present  this  latter  part  of  ethnical  refuse  is  swiftly 
diminishing.  We  hasten  to  shelter  what  may  as  yet  be  saved  of  the  cultural  vestiges 
of  nature-bound  nations,  of  their  labors  and  languages,  etc.,  in  our  ethnical 
museums. 

Let  us  examine  an^  classify  some  remnants  of  "natural"  humanity.  Organic  formations 
of  prehistoric  a-ons  are  frequently  found  to  be  inclosed  in  rocks,  where  they  were  fastened 
secure  as  against  the  conditions  of  climate,orin  order  to  be  transported  over  the  earth's  sur- 
face. They  belong  to  the  stones  which  bear  them  under  their  bosoms,  so  to  speak,  where  they 
moved  and  died.  This  analogy  may  illustrate  the  fate  of  nature-bound  people  arrested  in 
the  earliest  stage  of  their  progress.  Such  tribes  and  nations  are  imbedded,  almost  encysted 
in  the  customary  rounds  of  their  daily  lives.  In  most  cases  every  individual  is  enslaved  by 
custom,  to  the  rules  of  which  every  performance  is  tied  down,  and  whose  violation  is  held  to  be 
the  same  misdemeanor  as,  on  religious  grounds,  it  was  held  thousands  of  years  ago.  Such 
people  are  under  constant  anguish,  not  one  step  will  they  venture  out  at  night  without  being 
afraid  of  evil  spirits  and  spectres. 

Then  there  are  other  peoples  so  little  differentiated,  so  stiffened  and  immutable 
that  with  them  there  exists  scarcely  any  possibility  of  further  social  disorganisation 
or  degradation. 


in  A.  CH.  I.  §  208.        DEVELOPMENT  OF  NATURE  BOUND  PEOPLES.  387 

We  think  of  the  hordes  roaming  over  the  steppes  of  Central- Asia  and  through  the  Lack  of 
western  parts  of  the  Sahara;  which  may  represent  the  zero-point  of  receptivity  and  '°*^'^'*^''*"***'°"- 
differentiation.    They  lead  a  stupid,  vegetating  existence,  and,  indeed,  form  no  social 
strata.    This  lack  of  individualisation  explains  the  unprogressiveness  of  nature-  YXATcln^S 
bound  nations  for  thousands  ot  years.  These  encysted  lumps  of  humanity  are  no  more  sensitive, 
organised  than  the  protoplasmic  mass  of  a  mollusk.    Even  the  bodily  constitution  of 
the  individual  is  far  less  sensitive  to  surgical  operations— which  in  these  cases  are 
scarcely  accompanied  by  wound-fevers— than  the  constitution  of  civilised  persons. 

The  susceptibility  to  nervous  excitement  in  certain  tribes  of  the  Pacific  islanders 
seems  to  contradict  our  observation,  but  rather  corroborates  it.    Their  staring  at  a  Söusnest"**'" 
foreigner  and  imitating  every  play  of  his  facial  muscles  as  if  hypnotised  by  him 
proves  that  neither  energy  nor  physiognomy  is  under  control  of  selfconsciousness»  jj^,^^^^ 
They  are  so  completely  bound  to  the  instinctive  habits  forming  their  second  nature  cSofof  cons'^do^n?* 
that  they  appear  to  possess  in  place  of  self  consciousness  nothing  but  an  almost  spon- 
taneous and  uniform  habit  of  not  only  childish  but  embryonic  life. 

Other  peoples  we  find  to  bo  somewhat  differentiated  sociologically  who,  neverthe-  bordering  on 
less  remained  in  the  lowest  stages  of  social  life,  whilst  nations  of  their  kinship  ad-  embryonic  life, 
vanced  to  highwrought  cultures. 

The  use  of  human  skulls  for  drinking:  cups  is  known  to  us  from  times  as  late  as  Alboin  ... 
and  Ilosamunda ;  the  inhabitants  around  Lake  Albert  in  Australia  have,  up  to  date,  advanced  cultural  development 
no  further.    Many  tribes,  like  Tubi-nations,  represent  the  "stone-age"  at  the  present  time,  ^y'smced!'^**^ ""** 
The  Australian  is,  on  the  whole,  the  "diluvial  man  of  our  own  age" ;  his  feelings  and  intelli- 
gence are  those  "of  a  child  of  a  civilised  European",  except  that  the  Australian  does  not  »diiuviti'^an  of  our 
advance  with  his  years.    "The  child  of  civilised  nations  bites,  scratches,  and  rolls  on  the  own  age." 
ground  from  spitef ulness.    The  Australian  draws  pictures  like  those  of  the  Hottentot  artists, 
or  like  those  made  in  the  reindeer  period". 

In  civilised  nations  it  takes  a  few  years  only  to  graduate  through  the  stages  of  Children  of 
development  from  childhood  to  adult  age;  that  is,  through  all  the  stages  for  which  pasiafuhe*^*^"* 
it  took  the  nations,  as  such,  scores  of  centuries.    But  the  development  of  nature-  f^^f^^  ^^ 
bound  peoples  has,  in  the  particular  phases  of  their  respective  cultures,  remained  ar-  development  in 
rested  up  to  date,  leaving  some  as  far  back  as  they  were  in  their  childhood.  between^^"*^^ 

§  208.    We  encounter  an  objection  to  this  explanation  of  arrested  social  and  cul-  childhood  and 
tural  life  from  the  lack  of  individualisation  and  social  differentiation.     "It  can  *  "    ^^^* 
scarcely  be  admitted",  says  Herrmann  Wolf,  in  his  "Logic  and  Philological  Philoso-  rSedÄio^pment 
phy,"  "that  the  development  of  the  psychico-epistemological  process  should  become  S'^hildhoo'd.'**^'''*' 
stagnant  in  an  entire  nation  and  remain  at  that  point."  objection  against  this 

It  may  be  rejoined,  in  the  first  place,  why  such  arrest  of  progress  should  be  rejected  X''!"onthf  ground**^ 
as  improbable?  We  argue,  that  the  limited  terminology  of  isolated  language  was  Sopmint  would  not 
simply  due  to  their  becoming  deprived  of  opportunities  to  converse  with  others-  ^^^-  ^"''■ 

Flexibility  of  lingual  symbols  cannot  be  expected  from  people  excluded  from  com-  Arrested  logic 
munication  with  strangers.     The  fixed  position  of  simple  terms  could  not  be  over-  poverty  of  i^^ 
come  when  no  new  idea  was  to  be  conveyed;  when  the  routine  of  everyday  life,  and  language, 
simplicity  of  relations  stopped  the  rudimentary  syllables  at  a  minimum,  so  that 
modifications  of  vowels  and  flexion  of  nouns  and  verbs  were  not  required.     Another  paralysing  effect  of 
than  monotonous  syntactic  construction  could  not  be  expected  from  an  isolated  na-  u^rrated!*  ^'^ ''^ 
tion  without  "pressure  from  environment."    Wolf's  Logic  simply  underrated  the  par- 
alysing effect  of  isolation. 

Recently  Ehrenreich  enumerated  those  nations  in  Brazil  which  are  not  to  be  catalogued  completely  isolated 
among  the  other  lingual  families  and  thus  stand  "completely  isolated".    Nine  of  such  came  people  of  Brazil. 
under  his  observation.    We  shall  return  to  this  circumstance,  when  we  may,  to  some  extent, 
agree  with  Wolf's  objection  on  points  which  may  surprise  him.    At  present  we  maintain,  that 
an  arrest  of  cultural  development,  and  a  deficient  capability  for  progress  in  general,   is  cer-  g^^jj^.j,  ^^if  s 
tainly  thinkable  in  savage  nations.    We  only  state  that,  even  accommodating  ourselves  to  the  exception  the  possibility 
above  objection,  there  is  left  a  possibility  at  least  for  progress  in  the  downward  direction  to  J'snot'Llciuded.^'*'^*** 
fossilisation. 

Motionless  as  regards  cultural  progress,  almost  petrified  like  wood  at  the  seam  of 
a  coal-bed,  do  we  find  the  superannuated  debris  of  ancient  nations.  This  fact  induces  l^^^^^^^p 
those  to  agree  with  us,  who  take  the  nature-bound  parts  of  humanity  for  mere  pro- 
ducts of  nature— whereas  we  hold  that  they  have  degenerated  into  this  state  of  bond- 
age in  consequence  of  a  prehistoric  dispersion.  Even  our  opponents,  then,  know  of 
"products  of  degeneracy",  being  cautious,  however,  to  apply  this  term  to  a  very 
limited  cluster  of  phenomena. 


388 


Esquimaux,  people  o£ 
the  Canary  Islands,  of 
Ceylon,       Soken  Uanseh. 

Abgyll. 

Von  L<eheii. 

Sarasin. 


KaiAya  of  Brazill, 

Ehrenbsich. 
Habtius, 


Aimara  around  lake 
Titicaca, 

remnants  of  the  Inca. 
D'Orbibnt, 

MlTTEHDOBF. 

Mandi  and  Abisange 
between  Nile  and  Congo. 
Casati. 

Acca,  dwarf  nations. 

SCUWSINFURTH. 

Kassa,  remnants  of 
Abessyrian-iEthiopians. 
All  still  show  traces  of 
a  primary,  high  culture 
now  in  tlie  last  stages  of 
decline. 

As  insufficient  as 
"isolation"  has  the 

"influence  of 
conquerors  upon 
vanquished 
nations" 
been  considered. 
Mummifying  effect  of 
Mongolian  domination 
upon  Mohammedan,  and 
of  Islam  upon  Christian 
nations. 

Purpose  of  history  iu 
prolonging  the  existence 
of  withering  aations. 


Slow  process  of  ethnical 
decay. 


Decomposing  masses 
prove  progress  to  be  not 
merely  a  matter  of 
natural  necessity. 


No  people  entirely  void 
of  culture.    |  50,  51,  176 

True  being  attributable 
to  animated  entities 
only. 

All  entities  have  their 
origin  in  conscious  life. 
Conscious  life 
ineTplicable  as 
originating  inanimate 
being.  LoTzE. 

§•5,  19,  22. 


Lowest  strata  of  the 
ethnical  world  animated 
by  cultural  life. 

I  6,  21,  II.  A.  Ch.  ». 


DEGENERATED   PEOPLES. 


m  A.  Ch.  L  § 


Soeren  Hanson,  ten  years  ago,  took  the  Esquimaux  of  Greenland  for  the  remnant  of  a 
people,  which,  immigrrating  into  South  America  from  the  Southern  Pacific  islands,  at  one 
time  covered  the  entire  continent.  These  Esquimaux,  then,  w^ould  be  a  sample  of  a  tribe 
arrested  or  degraded  in  progress  through  isolation.  Argyll  takes  the  same  view.  Von  Loehen 
finds  "products  of  degradation"  in  the  present  inhabitants  of  the  Canary  Islands.  The  Weddu 
of  Ceylon,  according  to  Sarasin^  are  monumental  remnants  of  a  large  nation  of  aborigines, 
of  whom  no  more  than  about  2000  lead  a  forsaken  life  in  the  interior  forests.  Ehrenreich 
has  been  mentioned.  He  seems  to  agree  with  Martins  in  taking  the  Karaya  of  Brazil  as  "dis- 
persed fragments  of  a  tribe  of  the  Guayana",  as  also  the  tribes  along  Rio  Aquiri  and  Madre 
deDios.  "They  seem  to  have  retained  many  features  of  the  old  Inca  culture".  This  would 
go  in  proof  of  an  arrested  and  afterwards  degraded  condition. 

Recently  report  was  made  about  the  Aimara.  Camping  around  Lake  Titicaca  they  are, 
according  to  D'Orbigny  and  Mittendorf,  the  remnants  of  that  nation  which  left  the  traces  of 
the  old  Peruan  culture  of  the  Inca. 

Upon  the  watershed  between  the  Nile  and  the  Congo  rivers,  Casati  found  such  degraded 
remnants  of  Mande  and  Abisanga.  Schweinfurth  declares  the  African  dwarf  nations,  as  for 
instance  the  Acca,  as  a  belt  of  inhabitants,  stretching  across  the  continent  from  ocean  to 
ocean,  who  are  related  to  the  Bushmen.  His  conclusion  is,  that  they  are  perishing  remnants 
of  the  primitive  Africans. 

The  Eassa  nation  in  its  separation  from  the  .Slthiopian  empire  shows,  how  Christianity 
decays  under  the  preponderance  of  Mohammedanism ;  a  repetition  of  a  formula  with  the  three 
holy  names  of  the  Trinity  is  all  that  is  left  of  a  forgotten  past.  The  bearers  of  all  such  last 
remnants  of  cultures  are  in  their  last  stages  of  decay. 

As  equally  insufficient  as  the  effects  of  isolation  have,  in  our  opinion,  those  influ- 
ences been  considered  which  conquering  exerted  upon  vanquished  nations,  and  vice 
versa.  Take  the  spread  of  Islam  for  instance.  It  is  no  exaggeration  to  say  that  it 
affected  peoples  of  an  originally  higher  civilisation  as  a  coat  of  lacquer  would  affect 
a  blooming  plant— they  were  suffocated.  The  same  was  the  case  at  times  with  Mongo- 
lian domination,  which  had  a  mummifying  effect  upon  Christian  as  well  as  upon  Mo- 
hammedan nations. 

§  209.  The  condition  of  so-called  uncultured  nations  has  been  pointed  out  suffi- 
ciently to  prove  their  historic  insignificance.  The  question  returns,  why  were  these 
valueless  remnants  of  cultures  like  that  of  India,  allowed  to  wither  long  ago,  and  to 
remain  languishing  in  their  arrested  and  degraded  conditions  through  several  mil- 
lenniums? The  fact  of  the  slow  process  of  decay  affords  not  even  the  solace,  that  the 
cultures  falling  to  pieces  might  serve  as  fertilizers  for  new  ones.  For,  these  rem- 
nants are  like  loose  marl  which  neither  decomposes  nor  permits  anything  to  grow. 
Not  even  races,  which  remained  without  a  history  from  the  beginning,  e.  g.,  the  Papua 
and  the  Esquimaux,  crumble  to  pieces,  and  they  seem  to  bear  no  other  significance 
but  to  remain  standing  enigmata. 

If  progress  was  merely  a  matter  of  natural  necessity,  the  decomposing  mass 
ought  to  furnish  humus,  at  least,  upon  which  nature  might  raise  new  crops  of  cul- 
tures. As  it  is,  the  perishing  ethnic  element  did  not  die,  and  we  cannot  see  why  they 
were  kept  alive. 

But  let  us  remember  that  people  without  any  culture  do  not  exist.  Reasons  for  this 
assertion  were  laid  down  in  §§  37  and  176,  to  which  we  refer. 

Just  at  this  instant  Lotze,  the  venerable  scientist,  comes  to  our  assistanee.  "The  hesi- 
tancy to  estimate  one  part  of  the  world  as  no  more  than  a  lifeless  and  blind  agency  for  the 
purposes  of  the  other  part,  and  the  desire  to  let  all  creatures  participate  in  the  rapturous 
embrace  of  animation,  form  series  of  inducements  to  seek  the  warmth  of  mental  activity 
beneath  the  surface  of  matter  and  beyond  rigid  lawfulness  of  nature  in  its  usual  method  of 
working.  Another  series  of  weightier  arguments  lies  in  objections  preclusive  of  the  idea,  that 
no  entity  could  exist  without  possession  and  enjoyment.  Contradictory  suppositions  of  that 
sort  force  the  conviction  upon  us,  that  true  being  is  attributed  alone  to  entities  with  life  of 
their  own  and  that  all  entities  can  only  be  understood  to  have  originated  from  conscious  life, 
and  that  conscious  life  cannot  be  explained  as  originating  from  mere  inanimate  being." 

The  above  author  recapitulates:  "Nothing  hinders  us  from,  and  many  circum- 
stances enjoin  upon  us  the  supposition,  that  there  is  an  inner  life  hidden  in  the  sim- 
ple elementary  entities,  tho  in  their  compositions  they  may  appear  to  us  as  inanimate 
matter;  and  enjoin  upon  us  the  further  supposition  that  the  lowest  grades  of  our  race 
participate  in  the  inner  life,  by  virtue  of  which  all  men  are  capable  to  enjoy  under 
various  modes  of  susceptibility,  the  peculiar  circumstances  they  are  placed  in,  or  to 
make  the  best  of  their  conditions." 


Ill  A.  Ch.  I.  §  209.        ADAPTNESS  OF  ALL  HUMAN  BEINGS  FOR  CIVILISED  LIFE.  389 

Of  the  gist  and  import  of  this  conception  we  have  spoken  already.    We  now  apply  aji^ participate  in  inner 
this  truth  to  those  parts  of  tlie  ethnical  world  which,  as  far  as  history  and  progress  are 
concerned  seem  to  lie  prostrate  as  if  they  had  become  paralysed.    Examining  their 
condition  more  closely,  we  find  these  lowest  of  the  historical  strata  to  have  once  been  wAndeioy."*** 
animated  by  cultured  life.    An  ability  for  varied  work  and  enjoyment  is  manifest  Lowest  specimens  of 
everywhere.    Beside  the  psychical  eclipse  and  in  spite  of  it,  we  always  find  the  low-  ughÄufr^anifett 
est  specimen  of  humanity  to  reflect  that  light  of  life  which  manifests  itself  in  con-  '"  '=°n»«>««<=e 
science  making  itself  known  by  the  feeling  of  gratification,  whenever  its  dictates  are 
obeyed. 

Hence  the  work  and  enjoyment  of  uncultured,  unhistoric  nations  is  interesting  yaiue  of 
enough  to  be  worthy  of  recognition.    "The  value  of  civilised  life,  as  against  the  ex-  existence  not  to 
istence  of  those  who  remained  in  nature-bound  conditions,  is  not  to  be  estimated  by  gralies™?  ^     ^ 
the  accumulation  of  refinement  or  amount  of  pleasure,"  said  Waitz.    In  proof  of  this  5l|rlS  of  *  ^^^   ' 
truth  even  nations  at  the  bottom  of  the  cultural  scale  evince  an  unsophisticated,  child-  enjoyment.  ^^ 
like  appreciation  of  the  Beautiful;  we  find  dispersed  rays  of  self  devotion  and  its  cor- 
responding inner  happinoss;  even  traces  of  an  ethical  sense  verified  by  acts  of  self  de-  Äfof  happfnesTand 
nial.    In  the  lowest  stages  of  self-culture  we  find  advances  to  the  enjoyment  of  arts,  ^nnÄs^iowestinthe 
be  it  in  the  melancholy  modulation  of  the  plaintive  voice,  or  in  the  raillery  of  a  love  ****  *  **  *"^*"'*' 
song,  or  in  the  pleasing  forms  of  carved  weapons  and  kitchen  utensils.    There  is  al-  S'ntTibutinÄ'he 
ways  some  art  contributing  toward  the  ethnological  museum  of  culture  in  general;  glS^cuutTre!"  °' 
and  always  a  certain  joy  in  recompense  of  artistic  achievement. 

Nations  void  of  culture  there  are  none,  provided  we  measure  them  not  by  our  own,  Potentialities 
but  by  their  standards.     Speaking  of    ethical  and  cultural  cooperation   in  this  dormant  in 
sense,  all  people  are  found  in  some  way  to  assist  in  the  development  of  civilisation.  souIfwh^™^oniy 
If  such,  of  course  indirect,  cooperation  on  their  part  could  not  be  proven,  it  is  to  be  educatfon  to 
presumed;  since  in  this  ethical  realm  the  law  of  the  preservation  of  energy  is  as  become 

■^   ,.,.',,.      -  accomplishments 

valid  as  in  the  physical. 

The  remarkable  instance  that  the  two  Akka  boys  in  Verona  in  a  comparatively  short 
time  learned  to  read,  and  to  play  the  piano  with  ease,  proves,  in  computation  with  innumer-  Akka  boys  in  Verona. 
able  facts  of  this  kind,  that  in  man  everywhere  the  same  potentialities  lie  dormant  for  acquir- 
ing equivalent  accomplishments.    Whatever  Chinese  and  Japanese  have  done  for  representa- 
tive art  is  all  exceedingly  childish,  old  as  their  cultures  are,  especially  with  regard  to  their  in  chUiOTe  paintrn""" 
perspective  in  drawing.    And  yet  they  understand  the  composition  of  colors  to  such  a  degree 
that  an  art-periodical  in  Munich  spoke  of  an  "actual  symphony  of  colors."    By  way  of  com- 
parison we  put  beside  the  Chinaman  a  raw  savage,  a  Bushman,  to  whose  drawing  reference  Drawings  made  by 
was  made  in  some  report  of  late.    To  all  appearances  these  Africans,  standing  "in  close  prox-  Bushman. 
imity  to  the  brute"  seem  to  be  skillful  draughtsmen,  nevertheless.    Geometrical  figures  for 
decorative  use  executed  by  them  were  recently  laid  before  the  Anthropological  Society  in 
Berlin  which  were  as  correct  as  were  their  pictures  of  the  human  form;  even  "drawings  of  p^er°commonto'the 
animals  in  motion  were  admired."    Add  to  these  testimonies  those  mentioned  when  the  signs  ancient  nations. 
of  the  sun's  generative  effects  were  spoken  of  and  the  hook-and-eye  shaped  ankh-flgures  or  |^^*  °  symmetry.  ^  ^^^ 
"Meeander-crosses",  investigated  by  Senf,  who   by  this  symbolism  common  to  all  nations 
proved  the  unity  of  the  race  and  of  religion— then  we  are  vindicated  in  ascribing  a  sense  of 
symmetry  and  beauty  to  every  section  of  the  human  race. 

We  remember  an  expression  made  by  Leo  in  his  universal  history :  "History  ofiPers  a  Human  incipienctes 
chance  to  every  human  potentiality  for  acquiring  universal  importance."    Leo  speaks  of  designed  to  obtain 
national  life  from  which  no  energy  can  come  to  naught.    It  may  have  become  encysted,  "°  ^**^*'*    '°^'**°*'l,o. 
repressed,  petrified,  yet  it  remains,  as  the  power  of  the  sun  lies  preserved  in  coal-beds.    The 
lack  of  a  profound  and  vivid  insight  into  the  life  of  uncultured  people,  give  us  no  right  to 
deteriorate  any  of  their  merits. 

In  this  respect  we  are  like  the  wanderer  who  has  never  studied  botany.  Going  through  the 
heaths  and  over  the  mountain  crest  he  scarcely  notices  the  plants  he  sets  his  foot  on,  his  eye 
being  wearied  by  the  monotony  of  the  scene.  Had  he  knowledge  of,  and  love  for,  the  flora,  he 
would  see  more.  The  creepers  beneath  his  feet  would  interest  him  in  their  variety  and  their 
peculiarities,  and  enable  him  to  look  into  a  world  of  unostentatious  beauty.  So  are  our  eyes 
rather  attracted  by  the  mighty  formations  of  advanced  culture,  whereby  we  acquire  the  habit 
of  slighting  that  which  is  meek  and  lowly  in  the  ethnic  world.  There  is  an  eye,  however, 
which  does  not  lose  sight  of  that  which  is  despised  on  earth. 

Universal  history  may  be  likened  to  an  exquisite  piece  of  textile  work.    The  History 
great  patterns  ingrained,  the  result  of  uncountable  threads  interwoven,  which  in  p?Se  of  exquisife 
themselves  may  seem  irrelevant,  we  can  only  contemplate  from  a  certain  distance;  if  textile  work, 
looked  at  too  closely  we  can  not  enjoy  the  beauty  of  the  picture,  seeing  but  the  single 
threads  protruding  and  disappearing  again  and  again  in  the  intertwined  whole.  The 


890 


Insignificant  threads  of 
a  picture  on  tapestry 
indespensahle  if  the 
desired  effect  of  the 
whole  is  to  be  procured. 


Silent  but  formidable 
influencts  in  critical 
moments  of  history 
reducible  to  forsaken 
people, 


to  consider  which  is 
indispensable,  to 
understand  the  great 
system  of  cultural  life. 


LABOR  DESERVES  TO  BE  BETTER  HONORED.         Ill  A.  Ch.  II.  §  210. 

threads  in  that  artistic  piece  of  tapestry  become  indiscernible,  until  at  a  proper  point 
they  reappear  in  order  to  perform  their  part  in  bringing  out  upon  the  picture  this 
and  that  feature  or  tone  of  color,  which  to  the  experienced  eye  is  indispensable  if  the 
whole  is  to  produce  the  designed  effect. 

Thus  individuals,  tribes,  and  nations  may  disappear  as  tho  they  had  been  of  no 
use,  yet,  on  account  of  the  part  they  played,  insignificant  as  it  may  have  seemed,  they 
come  to  notice  again,  and  become  interesting.  Yea,  we  find  that  for  the  whole 
they  become,  at  some  date,  of  real  importance.  If  one  or  the  other  trace  of  their 
existence  had  not  been  preserved,  the  great  system  of  cultural  life  could,  perhaps, 
not  be  understood. 

Taking  one  more  glance  upon  these  "uncultured"  people  so  often  designated  as 
savages  unworthy  of  our  consideration,  a  general  view  will  comprise  a  series  of 
actions  and  reactions,  of  tension  and  equation  running  through  the  arrested  life  of 
ethnical  strata  and  debris.  Forsaken  peoples  have  in  their  silent  ways  exerted  influ- 
ences not  only  like,  but  even  in  concert  with,  the  imponderable  forces  stored  up  in 
the  silent  chambers  of  our  planet.  We  found  that  the  "dead"  masses  of  people,  those 
ethnical  layers  broadcast  over  large  tracts  of  the  globe,  that  even  single  hordes 
have  often  made  themselves  very  distinctly  felt  at  critical  moments  of  history.  Fre- 
quently they  have  played  most  prominent  parts  in  determining  the  shade  of  the  gob- 
elins or  shape  of  the  pattern  woven  and  spread  over  them.  Cases  are  not  rare  in 
which  they  imparted  new  impulses  and  gave  different  directions  to  historical  move- 
ments, whether  the  civilised  contemporaries  were  aware  thereof  or  not.  (Further  con- 
sideration of  this  matter  is  to  be  deferred  to  the  fifth  chapter). 


CH.  II   PAROXYSMAL  MOVEMENTS  IN  NATIONAL  LIFE. 


Places  where  history  Is 
on  a  rush  or  seems  to 
take  a  rest. 


A  standstill  on  the 
surface  is  generally 
deceptive. 


Analogous  to  the  activity 
of  the  human  organism 
during  sleep  is  the 
cultured  function  going 
en  in  tranquil  times. 


Normal  beat  of  the 
pulse  of  social  life  is 
owing  to  labor  which 
deserves  more  attention 
than   philosophy 
hitherto  has  given  to 
this  subject. 


Prosperity  not 
to  be  measured 
by  the  means  to 
gratify  appetites, 


Tendency  to  make  a 
living  without  labor  is 
unethical  and 
detrimental: 


predominating  in 
periods  of  high 
pretensions. 


Parasites  upon  the 
social  body. 


§  210.  The  river  of  history  runs  not  smoothly,  it  has  its  rapids  and  cataracts. 
Now  it  runs  faster  or  slower,  now  it  seems  to  rest  altogether  between  receding  banks 
whilst  at  the  next  bend  the  waves  dash  against  the  rocky  beach  and  the  foam  gathers 
among  the  rotting  debris  driven  ashore. 

When  motion  seems  to  stand  still  the  smoothness  of  the  surface  is  mostly  decep- 
tive. 

It  is  as  with  the  movements  of  our  bodies.  Respiration,  circulation,  the  work  of  secre- 
tion and  excretion,  the  whole  process  necessary  to  sustain  the  body  by  a  sum  of  reflex-actiong 
goes  on  without  our  being  conscious  thereof,  or  our  will  being  consulted,  or  engaged  in 
it.  The  operations  of  our  organism  quietly  continue  during  sleep,  and  it  is  just  then  that 
internal  activity  is  paramount.  So  is  tranquility  most  conducive  to  the  inner  growth  and  solid 
prosperity  of  a  nation,  to  the  adjustment  of  reconstructive  measures,  to  the  natural  proced- 
ures of  differentiation  and  division  of  labor.  Rather  in  sleep  than  in  storm  are  the  organs 
invigorated  or  the  forces  stored  up  which  are  necessary  in  upbuilding  or  upholding  the  social 
fabric. 

Philosophy  has  hitherto  overlooked  too  much  of  the  part  which  labor  takes  in  na' 
tional  development.  The  salutary  and  normal  beat  of  the  pulse  of  social  life  is  owing 
to  labor,  the  fitful  interruptions  of  which  signify  disorder,  the  stagnation  of  which 
causes  cramps,  inflammation,  mortification.  A  tranquil  and  j)rosperous  condition  is 
not  to  be  measured  by  gratification  of  appetites. 

We  agree  with  an  English  scientist  stating  "that  every  device  intended  to  secure 
comfort  and  security  without  personal  exertion  and  without  exercise  of  the  faculties 
of  brain  and  limbs,  works  mischief." 

Every  mode  of  existence  calculated  to  make  a  living  without  labor  of  some  ethical 
import,  must  of  necessity  be  prejudicial  to  the  ends  sought  for.  But  the  tendency  in  that 
direction  is  always  predominating,  especially  in  periods  of  high  pretensions ;  and  it  always 
produces  fatuity  and  stunt  of  organic  development. 

It  creates  effeminacy  by  turning  victorious  nations  or  successful  speculators  into  power- 
ful sponges  absorbing  the  vital  sap  of  their  contemporaries.  Such  parasites  rule  classes  or 
nations  by  pressing  their  exhausted  inferiors  into  servitude,  making  them  perform  their  own 
share  of  labor,  and  straining  the  prosperity  and  wealth  of  nations  into  their  own  money- 
vaults.  Then  they  settle  down  with  self-complacent  satiety  in  the  boastful  and  defiant  attitude 
of  oppressive  power.    Their  end  is  putrefaction. 

Applying  again  the  metaphor  of  a  current  stream  with  its  changing  scenes  and 
phases  of  utility  to  the  course  of  history,  we  shall  ever  find  that  the  quiet  pursuits  o£ 


Ill  A.  Ch.  II.  §  210.  CORRECTED  SOCIOLOGY.  391 

industry  and  agriculture  will  best  promote  general  normal  welfare.  Of  course  it  does  ÄÄr^rsSits 
not  prevent  an  occasional  overflow  of  a  nation  breaking  through  its  narrow  embank-  ^^1^11°'^°^  general 
ments,  and  consequently  inundating  nations  upon  comparatively  lower  levels  of  cul-  ^ 

ture.    Ordinarily  such  overflows  are  of  benefit  even  to  people  overpowered  thereby; 
for,  in  the  end  their  productiveness  is  stimulated  by  the  fertilising  sediments  of  cul-  ÄaÄ'lf/Äh*'*' 
tural  surplus  for  which  they  seem  to  have  been  waiting  in  order  to  yield  nobler  fruits.  S^t^nces^^need  ^  b« 
Of  whatever  nature  the  movements  in  national  life  may  be,  we  have  always  to  dis-  *"''°"'»*«'^  '"»'^  «*«<*• 
criminate  between  upper  currents  and  under-currents,  the  reciprocal  interactions  of 
which  determine  either  the  tranquil  and  steady  course  of  history  in  its  advancement.  Corrected 
or  the  commotions  and  disturbances.    Before  the  laws  of  interaction  among  such  sociology, 
peoples  (with,  of  course,  more  or  less  differentiated  forms  of  civil  life)  can  be  fixed,  a 
few  general  preconceptions  need  be  re-examined. 

Previous  to  the  arrangement  of  geological  science  according  to  specific  rules, 
computed  from  distinct  alternative  residues,  etc.,  there  was  some  talk  of  "catastro-  Law  of  coercion  against 
phism."    This  misleading  notion  disappeared,  when  inexplicable  phenomena  hereto-  unusuKs*"' 
fore  generalised  into  the  term  "ca  tastrophism,"  were  found  to  result  from  definite  and 
corresponding  causes.    The  observation  of  the  silent  and  accumulative  force  of  co- 
ercion yielded  a  better  interpretation  than  jejune  argument  of  unusualness. 

In  observing  social  catastrophes  similar  errors  had  been  committed  and  allowed     ' 
to  stand  uncorrected,  until  ethnical  movements  and  formations  were  surmised  to 
be  caused  by  the  collective  work  of  individual  exertions  passing  onward  with  a  ihesteadfastnewof 
certain  degree  of  quiet  but  irresistible  steadfastness.    As  soon  as  ethnical  changes  the'coer^clvrex'te'rnai*'' 
were  recognised  as  the  effects  of  this  historic  law  of  pressure,  historical  movements  manTacti'^n^s'  1°^"°""* 
were  understood  more  cogently,  and  were  found  to  work  quite  systematically.    So  undef^ 
long  as  a  slowly  shifting  or  expanding  mass  of  people  remains  almost  undifferentiat-  of ^pressiire,  ^^ 
ed,  the  effects  of  its  movements  are  explicable  by  the  simplest  causes.    Equality  of  §  ^'  ^^^'  ^^' 

their  conditions  warrants  the  conformity  of  their  movements.  Eqnaiity  of  conditions 

•*  warrants  conformity  of 

But  whenever,  on  the  other  hand,  as  has  been  repeatedly  observed,  a  national  or-  *^^''*' 
ganism  grows  sensitive  in  proportion  to  its  differentiation;  then  that  stage  is  obtain-  d^efentiltÄciety 
ed  in  which  a  nation  has  learned  to  economise  and  preserve  its  achievements.    It    ..v.  ^-  *•  .   », 

*^  with  distinct  spheres  of 

thereby  rises  above  uncultured  neighbors,  and  immediately  establishes  various  insti-  ''«"^  '^'^^  duties 
tutions  and  distinct  spheres  of  rights  and  duties.  Productive  labor,  protective  meas-  »rise  complications 

,,...  »Ti  .1  II.  which  continually 

ures,  distribution  of  products— m  short,  division  of  labor  is  brought  into  system.    This  require  adjustments. 
again  at  once  causes  complications  requiring  further  adjustment;  it  causes  class-in-  Personal  ambition  is  set 
terests  and  strain  between  different  occupations.    Under  these  altering  circumstances  agg^es"iveVdefensive 
an  astonishing  variety  of  personal  ambition  is  set  free  and  called  forth  into  either  **'*'°°' 
aggressive  or  defensive  action.    In  a  populace  bound  by  custom  personal  life  is  un-  custom-bound 
der  durance,  the  individual  soul   of  prince   or  beggar  equally  being  hedged  in  p^^p{,^v 
by  fixed  natural  regulations  according  to  birth,  position,  usages,  social  habits,  etc.  regulative«, 
Then  the  mysterious  but  formative  principle  of  mimicry  molds  the  expression  of  the  the 
social  physiognomy,  shapes  the  public  mind,  and  prescribes  the  modes  of  action  in  the  S^micry^  ° 
minutest  details.  Hereditary  views  and  habits  prevail  throughout;  and  acquiescence  in  Äesocilfbody""'"^ 
the  natural  causes  of  things  binds  up  personal  life  in  generalness  as  into  swaddling 
clothes.    On  the  whole,  individual  life  moves  in  the  tracks  of  the  species  and  is  car- 
ried along  simply  by  the  natural  movements  going  on  quietly  under  the  broad,  flat 
surface  of  generalness.    The  people  appear  as  of  one  cast.    The  manifold  character-  broad  suST''**'*' 
istics  and  social  peculiarities  of  a  nation  receive  the  impress  of  the  spirit  of  its  time,  toHndivlduau^arfthe 
which  is  even  stamped  upon  its  coins.    And  the  individual  bears  the  stamp  of  the^*^™^^^***®*'^^"' 
clan.    It  partakes  of  the  prejudices  and  obeys  the  impulses  prompting  the  tribe.  The 
individual  mind  is  counted  as  of  little  consequence,  and  is  indeed  void  of  any 
salfhood  and  rather  unconcerned  about  its  being  nullified.    Unambitious,  the  mem-  and  is  no  more  than  a 
ber  of  that  body  politic  is  far  from  rising  to  make  a  public  speech,  from  defending  its  gäus.^  "*  *^^  "**  °*  '** 
right,  from  throwing  its  weight  into  the  scales.    It  is  no  more  than  a  vehicle  of  the 
life  of  the  genus,  circulating  within  it;  and  no  more  conscious  of  its  dependent  frame 
of  mind  than  a  child  whose  lips  acquire  the  language  of  the  country.    Language,  ad-  ciannishness  of 
age,  song,  public  opinion,  artistic  tastes,  judicial  views,  national  games,  social  insti-  nations'^*^""^ 
tutions,  etc.  are  but  outgrowths  of  the  common  life,  the  national  esprit  de  corps. 


ibmitto  natural 


392 

Genesis  of  the 
distinct 
character  of  a 
nation 


under  the  law  of 
pressure  and 
counteraction. 


Reaction  of  personal 
life  when  treated  as 
natural  force. 


Causes  of  wholesome 
com  motions  in  highly 
«rganised  nations. 


Danger  of  Ill-balanced 
growth  of  population 

Abistotlx 


Political  eruptions. 


Natural  law 
governs  history 
to  the  extent  in 
which  man  is  a 
part  of  nature. 


Physical  analogy  as  to 
volcanoes  and 
revolutions. 


Stages  in 
national 
upheavals. 


Revolutions  at  first, 
private  affairs  of 
palaces ;  in  nations 
answering  our 
description  of 
clannishness. 

then  local  affairs  of 
cities,  leagues,  etc. 

Insurrections  of  heretics 
and  peasants  prepared 
the  English  Revolution. 

French  and 
American 
revolutions 
affected  all 
civilised  nations. 


Hailing  the  outbreak. 

FiCHTB. 


Revolutionary 
excitement 
jeopardises 
progress  and 
tends  to  relapse 
into  barbarism. 


Rousseau's  "Emile" 


DISORDERS  IN  BODIES  POLITIC  AND  NATIONAL  UPHEAVALS.     11  A.  Ch.  II.  §  211. 

§  211.  From  mysterious  depths  rise  the  inclinations,  sentiments  and  formative 
thoughts,  which,  working  through  millions  of  souls,  fashion  the  character  of  the 
whole.  The  most  minute  features  of  this  distinct  nationality  are  represented  in  the 
individual.  This  continues  until  one  class  in  a  nation,  or  one  nation  on  a  continent 
assumes  an  arrogant  attitude  and  claims  more  than  its  legitimate  share  of  room  and 
of  right.  The  overbearing  part  presses  upon  the  weaker  and  usually  larger  parties  in 
the  social  fabric,  and  provokes  counteraction.  For,  treating  personal  life  as  a  natural 
force  under  high  pressure,  eventually  causes  the  natural  result— an  explosion.  The 
reaction  ensuing  is  like  a  fever,  the  reaction  of  health  against  a  disorder  of  the  cir- 
culation or  excretion.  Hence  the  undulations  of  incitements  by  pressure  and  re- 
action will  occur  in  no  other  but  national  organisms  of  a  highly  differentiated  and 
sensitive  constitution,  in  which  they  originate  from  the  abnormal  swelling  of  some 
organ  at  the  expense  of  others,  or  by  the  lethargy  of  one  of  the  functional  systems 
obstructing  and  arresting  the  advance  of  the  whole  body  politic. 

Aristotle  espied  the  danger  of  an  ill  balanced  growth  in  numbers  in  which 
the  stupidity  of  one  class  causes  the  consequent  wealth  and  shrewdness  of  another  to 
prevail.  The  customary  means  of  legislation  then  avail  no  longer,  since  ignorance 
begets  suspiciousness  and  everybody  becomes  suspected  of  partiality,  until  legal  control 
and  authority  to  rule  are  denied.  As  it  causes  an  internecine  revolution  if  one  party 
presses  upon  the  others,  so  war  originates  whenever  one  nation  tries  to  overreach  an- 
other. Thus  national  and  international  eruptions  break  forth  with  logical  and  al- 
most geological  necessity. 

This  is  the  most  conspicuous  experience  of  the  truth  that  natural  lawfulness  gov- 
erns history  to  the  extent  in  which  man  is  a  part  of  nature. 

An  earthquake  reveals  a  power  which  is  caused  by  the  planet's  own  heat.  The 
eruption  originates  from  some  stoppage  of  circulation  and  ventilation  in  the  veins  of 
the  earth.  Compression  forces  the  steam  power  to  take  vent  through  the  crust  above,  when- 
ever impediments  are  not  overcome  internally.  A.  v.  Humboldt  brought  volcanic  activity 
into  the  formula  that  it  is  "a  reaction  of  interior  forces  of  our  planet  against  its  crust". 
Analogous  to  these  are  the  uproars  in  national  life.  Wo  have  the  calm  "andante"  of  habitual, 
firmly  established  and  uneventful  movement  in  the  routine  of  every  day  life.  This  passes  into 
the  faster  "allegro"  whenever  new  ideas,  brought  out  by  the  contest  and  by  the  tension  of 
expectancy,  incite  an  entire  generation.  Then  the  least  mishap  may  turn  the  sensational 
masses  into  the  temper  of  the  "furioso",  and  attempts  at  reasoning  about  amelioration  being 
futile,  the  uproar  is  apt  to  seize  whole  nations  with  the  paroxysm  of  a  raging  "furore". 

The  history  of  revolutions  evinces,  that  at  first  they  were  mere  local  affairs,  pal- 
ace-revolutions in  nations  answering  our  description  of  clannishness,  as  in  Persia, 
Russia,  and  Constantinople.  Then  they  took  the  shape  of  national  excitements,  and 
of  general  epidemics  in  our  own  times.  Revolutions  used  to  be  city  riots,  until 
leagues  took  up  the  cause;  finally  they  became  events  of  universal  import,  in  compar- 
ison with  which  the  innumerable  local  symptoms  of  present  dissatisfactions  cease  to 
be  alarming.  The  insurrections  of  the  heretics  and  the  peasants  prepared  the  trans- 
ition to  the  great  English  revolution;  the  intrigues  of  cabinets  and  conspiracies  of 
parties  will  lead  to  the  disrupture  of  Turkey  as  it  once  conduced  to  the  end  of  Byzanz, 
and  in  modern  times  to  the  revolutions  of  the  United  States  and  France.  The  latter 
two  alone  affected  all  civilised  nations,  because  the  principles  at  issue  bear  upon 
humanity  in  general  and  touch  every  one  of  all  the  modern  problems.  In  both  of 
them  a  universal  thought  worked  itself  through,  a  question  in  whose  solution  every 
human  being  is  concerned. 

Fichte  in  his  "Contribution  to  correct  some  notions  about  the  French  Revolution," 
wrote:  "Up  to  date  mankind  is  far  behind  in  the  knowledge  of  what  is  wanting.  But  if  I  am 
not  mistaken,  we  witness  the  dawn  of  a  fresh  spring-morning,  and  the  zenith  of  day  will  be 
reached  in  due  order  of  time."  To  be  sure,  that  morning-dawn  was  of  a  bloody  red.  Thought 
has  gone  through  blood  ordeals  ever  since  the  beginning  of  the  world. 

There  were  always  conservatives  to  oppose  innovations  and  to  foil  precipitate  advance, 
which  marches  double  quick  as  if  time  was  to  be  taken  by  storm.  Those  attacking  and  repel- 
ling in  their  rage  and  wrestle,  act  as  if  they  were  blind  as  to  the  merits  of  the  issue,  and  in 
the  frenzy  of  fanaticism  tumble  down  a  precipice. 

Asoften  as  parts  of  society  did  attain  a  certain  height  of  selfculture,  society  at  large, 
always  a  heavy  mass  to  elevate,  relapsed  for  a  time  into  the  rude  condition  of  barbarism 
sequent  to  series  of  common  neglects  and  defaults;  just  like  that  ideal  of  Rousseau,  the  child 
of  nature,  which  makes  it  his  object  to  show  his  nudity  and  animal  propensities,  tho  "Emile" 
may  forget  his  role  on  occasions  which  require  urbanity. 


Ill  A.  CH.  II.  §  212.        PROOF  OF  HISTORY  BEING  PARTLY  NATURAL  HISTORY.  393 

The  deplorable  commotions,  reactions  as  they  are,  or  rather  suits  at  natural  law  S?i"naw, S**** 
in  which  social  elements  settle  their  conflicting  interests— are  historical  necessities,  h'^toricai  necessities. 
The  distress  incident  to  such  troubles  is  inevitable  and  as  natural  as  the  discharges  i"f^|,penVed''"'*'®' 
of  thunderstorms,  since  the  physical  and  social  atmosphere  is  what  it  is.    They  are  ^^^^^^^  j^^^j 
like  the  destructive  eruptions  of  the  volcanoes,  since  the  combination  of  the  elements  oftheparoxy^m^may"'* 
in  the  make-up  of  our  earth  are  such  as  they  are.    To  be  sure,  the  moral  liabilities  of  co-responsibuTty. 
the  individual  are  not  suspended  on  account  of  these  circumstances,  and  responsibil-  Paroxysmal  fits 
ity  is  not  abated,  tho  the  causes  lying  outside  of  the  single  person  may  alleviate  his  lupSism  caicui»S\o 
juridical   guilt.     At   any  rate,   the  paroxysms   reveal  human    nature  as  it  is.  ^^n  in  his 
They  explode  at  least  every  fantastical  euphemism  calculated  to  extol  man— unre-  "i^'i^®^®"®^*!^'. 
generated  man  as  Kant  used  to  say— as  a  deity  in  miniature.    The  reality  of  human         "  kam! 

nature  exposing  itself  in  these  natural  paroxysms  shows  the  absurdity  of  that  They  show  the 
haughty  tendency  of  profane  humanitarianism  to  deprive  the  thought  of  humanity  of  profanl*^  °^ 
the  fullness  which  is  given  in  the  Mediator.     The  sjrave  responsibility  of  this  one-  humanitarianism 
sided  humanitarian  philosophy,  preceding,  for  instance,  the  French  revolution,  con-  thoufhrof^  *  ^ 
sists  in  ignoring  the  truth  of  the  Christian-humanistic  ideal,  whereby  the  essence  of  f  "ihiess'giveiUn 
humanism  was  detached  from  its  thought,  and  the  thought  put  to  derision:  all  in  the  Mediator, 
order  to  pettifog  the  self-conceit  of  man  in  his  crude,  unbridled  state.  Such  seduction  Seduction  to 
of  contemporaries  to  false  world-theories  always  ends  in  the  destruction  of  man's  theories  always 
dignity  and  liberty.  ends  in  the 

destruction  of 

§  212.    Another  circumstance  needs  to  be  considered  in  this  connection.  human  dignity 

and  freedom. 
The  eruption  of  Mount  Krakatau  in  the  Sunda  Straits  caused  an  ocean  wave  to  inundate      §  169, 177-179,  212. 

a  large  tract  of  the  island,  and  37,000  human  lives  were  swept  away.    Cannibalism  is  an  ethno-   „  »  .    ^i. 

,     ,       .      ,        .  ,  ,       ,        ,       ,  ,  ,   .       ,  .  ,  .  .         .,,  Excess  of  deaths 

psychological  enigma ;  but  the  death  of  such  a  multitude  of  people  at  an  instant  is  still  more 

inexplicable.— In  Australia  recently  ten  and  a  half  millions  of  rabbits  were  killed  in  one 

season— an  enigma  of  natural  history.    Yet  wholesale  murder  of  men  is  a  conundrum  in  the 

history  of  the  human  race  surpassing  both  in  its  appalling  effects.    We  shall  recur  to  its 

consideration. 

The  paroxysms  of  nations,  as  we  termed  the  rage  of  most  revolutions,  destroyed  sZ"omof  ceS''*'''* 
millions  of  human  existences,  each  of  which  is  more  important  and  valuable  than  ^'° 
all  the  rabbits  on  earth. 

The  bloody  upheavals  of  revolutionary  civil  wars  we  classify  with  insanity.  Jevorutk.^.'""'* 

Stoll  in  his  ethnology  of  the  Indians  of  Guatemala  points  out,  how  mysterious  phenom-  xhe  epidemic- 
ena  among  them  may  be  reduced  to  the  influence  of  the  suggestive  power  of  hypnotism.    No  liko  phenomena 
doubt,  nature-bound  people  are  more  susceptible  to  influences  of  this  sort  than  cultivated  ^arcf  *^^"^  u   der 
people.    But  that  does  not  exclude  that  nations  of  culture  under  the  paroxysms  discussed,  conditions  of 
relapse  into  the  nature-bound  state  of  people,  in  which  all  the  symptoms  of  an  epidemic  are  ecstatic 
observable.     The  convulsions  of  the  Camisards  were  as  catching  as  the  delirium  of  the  J^felvelmne^Kht" 
Jacobines.    As  the  depression  of  the  social  atmosphere  before  the  storm  of  a  revolution  through  investigation  of 
becomes  general,  so  in  any  other  case  of  public  excitement  the  parole  of  the  day,  the  terrible    yp*»"*'^™-  ^*<*"" 

news,  the  catchwords  carry  an  incendiary  power.     Whilst  the  excitement  grows  and  lasts.  Convulsions  of  tho 
enthusiasm  and  rage  are  subject  to  the  same  law  of  infection  as  epileptic  fits  and  St.  Vitus'     *'"»^*'^*^'- 
dance.    In  such  times  of  ecstatic  passiveness  a  nation  comes  nearest  to  being  a  mere  natural  Delirium  of  the 

^^ .„:„,„  Jacobines. 

organism. 

None,  perhaps,  has  pictured  the  terrors  of  the  revolution  more  fascinatingly  than 

°  "^  Terrors  of  a  revolution. 


Taine,  but  not  even  this  description  can  surprise  those  having  insight  into  the  depth 

of  human  nature  as  open  to  infernal  instigations.    In  his  collective  capacity  man  Human  nature 

is  then  a  mere  natural  compound  in  which  personal  life  is  overwhelmed  by  the  life  open  to  infernal 

of  the  species.    The  individual  is,  like  a  wave  in  a  wild  mountain  stream,  carried  *"^§  f^  58,"i"i2, 202. 

away  by  the  general  frenzy.    Having  lost  the  coolness  of  judgment  and  the  force  of 

resistance,  the  individual  gives  himself  up  to  the  blind  public  will  as  a  mere  instru-  jiJdgment^and 

ment,  under  the  spell  of  a  strange  enchantment.   During  such  paroxysms  personality  rSstence  lost 

seems  to  be  emancipated,  and  high-minded  spirits  appear  to  be  called  forth,  whilst  under  the 

In  fact  personal  life  is  virtually  thrown  back  into  the  generalness  of  the  natural  life  ^®"®^^    renzy. 

of  the  genus. 

This  rests  upon  the  same  law  as  that  which  Bastian  found  energetically  iactive  among  ^^f  "7^^°'^"'"*^''' 
certain  tribes  upon  Java.    Under  a  peculiar  sensibility  common  to  them,  almost  any  nervous  ^'^  '^* '"  *^*'  fßAsnMj 
Irritation  was  transferrable  from  person  to  person.    The  affected  individual  cannot  help  im- 
itating every  act  of  strangers  rousing  its  wonderment.    It  is  said  to  be  a  peculiar  situation  explain1ng*national 
to  find  oneself  in  a  sphere  of  general  hypnotiSation.  paroxysms. 


394 


RHYTHMICAL  COINCIDENCES  IN  HISTORY.  HI  A.  CH.  III.  §  213. 


Propensity  of  reason  for 


Illustrated: 

two  lenses  of  the 
meniscus, 


The  least 
displacement  in 
the  dual 
consciousness 
sets  the  soul  in 
rapport  with  the 
dual  sphere  of 
the  spiritual 
world ;  this  alters 
in  either  case,  the 
views  of  life. 


Contrasts  of  human  life 
in  tranquility  and 
under  convulsions. 


But  even  this  comparison  between  natural  phenomena  and  national  paroxysms 
is  of  little  avail. 

We  must  adduce  still  another  fact. 

It  is  to  be  considered  that  in  every  man  the  propensity  for  insanity  lies  close  be- 
neath the  upper  sphere  of  reason.  Any  specialist  of  mental  diseases  will  testify  to 
the  almost  indistinguishable  transitions  from  sound  sense  to  insanity.  For,  our  re- 
flecting consciousness,  conditionally  to  be  upheld  day  by  day  above  the  occult  side  of 
psychical  life,  is  aptly  to  be  compared  to  one  of  the  two  lenses  constituting  the 
meniscus.  The  least  displacement  in  the  set  offers  an  entrance  to  sparks  from  the 
corresponding  mysterious  sphere  of  the  spiritual  realms.  The  soul  may  then  be  set  in 
rapport  with  the  celestial  world— and  with  the  world  of  evil  spirits  none  the  less.  In  the 
latter  case  the  focus  upon  the  views  of  life  becomes  seriously  altered  at  the  least.  We 
must  stop  short.  It  was  only  intended  to  bring  out  more  plastic  man  and  humanity 
in  the  tranquil  walks  of  life  during  periods  of  uneventful  times,  in  contrast  to  the 
convulsions  and  awful  descents  to  which  man  is  exposed  individually  and  socially 
in  the  course  of  his  history. 


Oscillations,  rhythmical 
recurrences  in  history 
must  be  reducible  to 
peculiarities  of  the 
human  soul. 

Emotions, 
passions  and 
moods  in  their 
regular 
alterations 
determine  the 
views  which  men 
take  of  things. 

Well  defined  but 
modifiable  forms 
of  world- 
consciousness 
predominant  at  a 
respective  age 
and  generation. 

Additional  experiences 
disarrange  accustomed 
ideas, 

cause  readjustment  of 
opinions. 

New  views  have  to  go 
through  the  ordeal  of 
conflicts. 

Course  of  intellectual- 
advance  in  a  straight 
line, 

becomes  changed  by 
various  circumstances. 


Method  of  such 
changes  in 

"the  spirit  of  the 
times.^' 

difficult  to  be 
comprehended. 


One  great 
descent  and  one 
great  ascent. 


Sinking 

began  with  the  break  of 
the  unity  of  humanity 

Ascent 

bi-gins 

when  the  unity  of 
humanity  is  manifest 
anew. 


CH.  III.    UNDULATIONS  OP  ETHNICAL  LIFE. 

§  213.  The  oscillations  rhythmically  recurring  in  the  course  of  events  must  be 
reducible  to  the  peculiarity  of  the  human  soul.  The  moods  of  the  mind,  now  inclin- 
ed to  active  enterprise,  then  again  to  passive  resignation,  change  with  the  regular- 
ity of  a  pendulum.  These  emotions  and  passions  chiefy  determine  the  views  men 
take  of  things.  Previously,  allusion  has  been  made  to  these  conditions  of  the  mind, 
and  now  we  try  to  bring  them  under  a  common  focus  with  other  phenomena  pertain- 
ing to  the  topic  presently  to  be  discussed. 

Observing  the  intellectual  grade  of  persons  either  by  themselves  or  in  society, 
there  always  presents  itself  a  circle  of  unsophisticated  ideas,  matters  of  common 
sense,  in  the  shape  of  a  well  defined  tho  modifiable  world-consciousness  predominant 
in  a  specific  generation  at  a  given  period. 

This  mental  horizon  is  ever  widening  by  additional  experiences,  through  compar-* 
ison  with  which  the  old  circle  of  ideas  becomes  disarranged.  A  readjustment  of  cogni- 
tions is  initiated  in  order  to  master  the  puzzling  discrepancies.  The  new  views  must 
always  pass  through  the  ordeal  of  conflicts  and  doubts,  in  the  transition  from  unten- 
able opinions  to  clearer  comprehensibility,  under  the  harmonising  activity  of  the  intel- 
lect, aiming  at  generalisation  and  unification  of  conceptions.  A  more  correct  world- 
consciousness  is  usually  gained  by  the  argumentation  between  the  old  tenets  and  the 
new  experiences  and  conclusions.  Mind  becomes  less  clannish  and  more  enriched. 
This  is  the  course  of  advance  in  a  straight  line.  But  this  simple  line  of  ratiocination 
already— abstracting  as  yet  from  the  possibility  of  mixing  in  errors  on  the  way  from 
perception  to  conclusion— shows  perpetual  oscillations  between  inner  propensities 
and  external  preponderances,  changes  from  intensification  to  superficiality,  from 
musing  contemplation  to  practical  attention  and  application. 

Not  so  easily  understood,  however,  is  the  order  and  method  of  these  alternations. 
Taking  the  line  of  cultural  movement  upon  earth  under  one  general  aspect,  we  find 
one  great  descent,  and  one  great  ascent.  The  sinking  begins  with  that  appalling 
subversion  by  which  the  unity  of  the  human  family  was  broken  into  the  multiplicity 
of  opinions  and  races.  This  subversion  preceded  the  disaster,  which  was  but  its  pal- 
pable, inevitable  sequel;  that  disaster,  which  alone  explains  ethnological  enigmata. 
Humanity,  fallen  into  an  abyss,  falling  to  pieces,  was  conducted  in  all  its  affairs  by 
an  invisible  hand,  nevertheless. 

The  ascent  begins  with  that  great  event— incomprehensible  from  the  points 
of  common  reason— by  virtue  of  which  the  fragmentary  vestiges  began  to  be  gathered 
up,  when  those  who  had  fallen  into  the  dust,  were  lifted  up  again,  when  the  unity  of 
humanity  was  manifest  anew.  The  process  of  this  elevation  continued  up  to  date. 
That  descent  and  this  ascent,  perversion  there,  and  conversion  here,  scattering  into 
diversion  and  gathering  into  unity,  may  each  be  taken  as  a  movement  commencing 
at  the  middle  of  the  times  made  to  distinguish  either  set  of  advance  or  relapse 
from  the  other. 


Ill  A.  CH.  ni.  §  213.         CHANGES  IN  SOCIAL  LITE  SUBJECT  TO  NATUBAL  LAW.  395 

Progress  upward  and  wayward  forms  the  diverging  lines  which  center  and  cut  Progress  upward 
one  another  in  the  "cross."    This  arrangement  of  historical  material,  on  our  part,  wayward^Srm 
is  not  artificial,  but  the  precise  description  of  the  way  in  which  the  historical  devel-  lilfes/tunfen^  to, 
opment  of  human  culture  actually  moved,  and  is  thus  roughly  outlined  in  its  totality,  cutting  each 

It  is  this  double  direction  of  the  historic  movements,  from  and  around  the  center,  centerkig  in  the 
which  renders  the  great  cyclical  undulations  observable  and  remarkable.  cross. 

Lasaulx  directed  the   attention   to   the  fact  that  a  series    of  great  religious  com-  directioii  of  the 
motions  occurred  simultaneously.    Abraham  and  Zoroaster  were  contemporaries,  according  historic  rotations 
to  M.  Mueller  and  Rawlinson.    Both,  Pentateuch  and  Rig-veda,  date  from  the  fifteenth  cen-  Jj""™  »nd  around 
tury  B.  C.  Israel's  establishment  in  the  promised  land,  and  that  of  Hindooism  in  India  belong  renders  the  great 
together  in  point  of  time.    Then  we  saw  Conf  ut-se  in  China,  Buddha  in  India,  and  Jeremiah  cyclical 
in  Jerusalem.    Along  with  prophecy  among  the  Jews,  theosophy  rises  among  the  Greeks;  !?P^^^?l*|^^". 
Hesiodos  and  Pythagoras,  and  the  institutions  generally  ascribed  to  Numa  and  Servius  Tul- 


conspicuous. 

Religious  commotions 


lius:— all  represent  that  wave  of  relijrio-philosophical  reconstruction  about  the  Sixth  century  occurred  simultaneously 
B.C.    Not  less  wonderful  are  the  undulations  conducted  along  that  imaginary  line  (of  the  Lasaüuc. 

wireless  telegraph,  we  are  almost  tempted  to  say),  between  Japan  and  Rome.  The  combination        *  *    ^'^M.  Muellm, 
suggested  by  the  names  of  Gregory,  Procas,  and  Muhamed  about  600  A.  D.;  and  another  at  Rawunsok. 

about  1200  A.  D.,  with  several  Innocents  to  match  the  Dalai-Lama  in  Asia,  afford  sufficient  evi-  Pentateuch-Rig-Veda 
dence  of  the  cyclical  movements  under  discussion,  making  it  almost  necessary  to  speak  of  the     "      *'  ^^^'  **' 
wonderful  harmony  of  coincidents  at  about  1500  A.  D.,  marked  by  the  names  of  Gutenberg,  Greek  theosophy.' 
Constantine,    Copernicus,  Columbus,  Charles   Y.,  Luther,    Calvin,  etc.,    marked  also    by  a  Gregor,  Procas, 
reform  in  Japan ;  not  to  speak  of  the  wave  of  1800.  ,  Muhamed 

Innocent,  Dalai  Lama. 

For  these  phenomena  we  find  no  explanation  in  individual  psychical  life  or  Gutenberg, 
in  moods  of  the  mind.    To  explain  them  in  the  way  Schelling  did,  only  multiplies  copern"cL"?co1umbus, 
the  conundrums.    The  intermittant  pulsation  of  ethnical  life  has  other  causes.   For,  Reform  in  j'apan? 
as  soon  as  it  is  conceded  that  humanity  is  really  the  organic  totality  of  nations  whose  Sjfanlt'^ofi'of  such 
inner  nature  is  apt  to  become  incited  to  common  passionateness,  those  polar  fluxes  perp£ities"o£'historics. 
are  explicable,  which  so  remarkably  pass  through  contemporary  nations  of  nearly  p  i     ^ 
equal  delicacy  of  sentiency,  sequent  to  higher  culture.  passionateness 

In  peoples  of  lowest  cultural  grades  the  effects  are  of  course  unnoticeable ;  we  repeat  humanity  is 
that  the  participation  in  these  extensive  spheres  of  parallel  coincidences  cannot  be  shown  is  really 
everywhere.    In  parts  of  humanity  lying  as  if  petrified  on  the  outskirts  of  the  historic  cor-  organ\^^^otalh;T 
poration  they  are  hidden  from  our  view.    But  that  they  were  touched  indeed  by  the  same  of  nations, 
influences  is  not  an  illegitimate  supposition. 

As  members  of  the  great  social  organism  they  may  even  in  their  isolated  condition  have  hfdden  from'vie*w*'iif 
outgrown  their  childhood,  and  have  their  own  ups  and  downs.    It  is  a  fact  that  insane  people  nations  lying  petrified 
in  their  derangement  still  participate  inwardly  in  the  bereavements  which  during  their  con-  e  p  r  p  ety, 

finement  in  an  asylum,  for  instance,  have  befallen  their  families ;  and  that  when  health  returned  ^°^^  ^h'^'*'''f*h-°to'"  • 
they  became  perfectly  conscious  of  it,tho  their  friends  withheld  from  them  what  had  happened    to  be  presumed. 
Idiots  and  deaf  and  dumb  persons  have  made  inner  progress  of  mental  life  while  outwardly  „,    ^   ^  ^^   ,,. 

....Ill  ^-        1  ».1..,,         ,  Illustrated  by  the 

scarcely  any  sign  of  it  could  be  noticed ;  as  soon  as  a  cure  was  effected  physically,  they  were  rapport  of  insane 
in  possession  of  mature  powers  of  reason.  FamTne^sTn^^erhfus 

These  psychological  facts  show  individual  natures — notwithstanding  their  being  under  bereavement. 
bondage,  isolated,  and  arrested  in  their  development,— participating  in  the  emotions  pervad- 
ing their  relatives.  i 

Hence  the  supposition  is  justified  that  the  whole  race  is  touched  by  the  undu- 
lations which  vibrate  through  ethnical  life.  It  is  by  the  most  natural  inference  undulations  of 
that  human  circles,  bound  up  under  abnormities  of  consciousness,  are  not  excluded 
from  the  progressive  movements  of  humanity  as  a  whole,  and  that,  unconsciously, 
under  special  guidance  from  above,  they  partake  of  the  fluxes  of  polarisation  and  of 
general  advancement. 

All  we  contend  for,  is  that  cyclical  motions  of  a  spiritual  nature  may  seize  hu- 
manity in  its  totality  and  oscillate  through  the  whole  body.    Hence  we  deem  this  sup-  ^^  ^^^^^  contended  for 
position  of  a  mysterious  and  involuntary  sympathetical  rapport  among  mankind,  ä'as*iriS*'nat"ure'°"' 
even    unconscious   thereof,   as   the  only   key   fit   to  solve   the  problem   of   con-  «ay  seize  humanity  and 

'  "  "  r  scintillate  through  it  as 

cursive  advance,  tho  we  should  be  able  to  trace  the  tidal  waves  of  simultaneous  com-  "  ^''^^• 
motions  in  the  history  of  those  nations  of  higher  culture  only,  in  which  the  effects  of 
the  flux  come  to  the  surface  as  plain  facts. 

Furthermore  we  observe  the  nations,  and  the  present  system  of  states  especially, 
ever  to  waver  between  two  poles.  Just  as  energetic  activity  and  phlegmatic  lassitude 
alternate  in  the  life  of  every  individual,  so  do  periods  of  social  life  change  certain  dis- 
tinct features. 

28 


Sympathetica! 
rapport 

may  manifest  itself 
involuntarily. 


Nations  and  states 
waver  between  the 

two  poles  of 
energetic 
activity  and 

f>hle^matic 
assitude. 

Periods  of  war,  national 
pride  and  patriotism 

alternate  with  times  of 
recuperation, 

uncencem  of  common 
weal  or  woe, 

and  vagrue 
cosmopolitanism. 

The  purpose  of 
such  alterations 

is  to  render  civilisation 
universal. 

From  a  moderate 

cosmopolitanism 

history  derived  much 
benefit. 

Disadvantages  of 
national  eg-oism ; 
Nativism 
Militarism. 

Nations  punished 
for  selfishness 
by  foreigners. 

Providential 
intermixture  of 
the  Semitic 
element, 

which  now  as 
ever  acts  as  a 
dissolvent. 

§  67,  78,  88, 128, 
200,  201. 

Jews  provoke 
salutary 
counteraction ; 

resemble  a  salt  against 
decay, 

testing  the  genuineness 
of  patriotism, 

insisting  upon  tolerance. 

causing  Christendom 
indifferent  to  religion 

to  appreciate  their 
advantages  of  Christian 
eivilisatian ; 


to  spurn  mammonism 
sham  culture,  feigned 
humanitarian  ism. 

and  the  selfcomplacency 
of  stoic  cosmopolitanism. 

Undulations  in 
the  conception 
of  Humanism, 

between  cosmopolitan 
platitude  and  national 
Darrowuess, 

are  in  keeping  with  the 

two  fluctuating 
modes  of 
thinking; 


FLUCTUATING  MODES  OF  THINKING — UNIVERSALISTIC,  SUBJECTIVISTIC.       HI  A.  Ch.  IQ.  §  214. 

Subsequent  to  periods  of  war  with  their  constraining  circumstances,  concentrative  ten- 
dencies prevail  for  some  length  of  time.  National  selfconsciousness  is  then  most  vivid.  But 
soon  after  a  relaxation  usually  sets  in.  During  the  times  of  renewed  prosperity  and  rest 
class-interests  and  selfassertion  tend  to  loosen  the  inner  connections  formed  under  the 
pressure  of  common  danger.  Cooperative  instincts,  displeased  with  the  obligations  of  fel- 
lowship, or  discontent  with  the  affairs  of  citisenship  at  home,  seek  to  make  common  cause 
with  corresponding  causes  in  foreign  countries.  Tendencies  become  prevailingly  interna- 
tional. When  at  first  the  determined  energy  of  a  definite  nation  rose  in  patriotism,  it  now 
sinks  into  promiscuous  and  vague  cosmopolitanism.  Such  seemingly  inconsistent  alterna- 
tions have  their  common  roots  in  the  social  oscillations,  which  in  respect  to  both,  the  rise  and 
decline  of  national  selfconsciousness  have  their  significance  and  assigned  ends  in  the  pur- 
pose of  civilisation  to  become  universal. 

It  has  often  been  averred  that  the  two  great  epochs  of  German  literature  coincide  with 
the  revival  of  cosmopolitan  tendencies  characteristic  of  that  nation.  This  was  at  the  close  of 
the  crusades,  and  again  after  the  Prussian  exertions  about  1800  A.  D. 

From  a  mild  sort  of  cosmopolitanism  history  derived  much  benefit  in  behalf  of 
humanism.  For,  whenever  national  self-consciousness  predominates,  and  nativism 
flourishes,  a  state  becomes  egoistical  and  proud,  causing  nations  to  separate  in  order 
to  become  powerful  units  in  themselves.  Problems  and  tasks  enjoined  upon  human- 
ity in  general  are  partially  considered  under  aspects  of  utility  according  to  the  selfish 
polity  of  a  nation,  a  polity  which  depends  upon  national  sentiment,  or  rather  the  ca- 
price of  a  nativistic  populace,  or  upon  national  superciliousness.  The  principle  of 
national  fellowship  with  other  nations  is  then  superseded  by  the  expediency  of  selfish- 
ness, and  subsides  under  national  jealousies  and  animosities,  under  the  weight  of 
armament  and  the  burden  of  militarism.  Finally  the  thought  of  humanity  is  dis- 
torted and  violated  by  secret  agitation  and  international  combinations  of  discontent 
and  hatred. 

More  than  once  history  has  had  to  discipline  nations  inflated  with  national  presumptuous- 
ness  by  interspersing  foreigners  among  them,  in  order  to  teach  them  lessons  of  humility  and 
to  bring  hc>me  to  them  the  truth  that  no  part  of  the  human  family  is  to  be  despised.  So  were 
the  Mongolians  instrumental  in  carrying  the  old  legends  of  India  to  the  occidental  nations 
where  the  fairy-tales  of  their  childhood  reechoed  in  the  faint  home-recollections  of  the  Ger- 
manic and  Slavonic  races.  So  had  the  Arabs  to  aid  in  spreading  the  forgotten  thoughts 
of  Greece  over  the  West  besides  mixing  in  other  Asiatic  elements  of  cultural  import. 
At  the  proper  time  those  thoughts,  at  first  utilised  only  in  the  interest  of  scholastic  ecclesiasti- 
cism,  came  to  assist  in  widening  the  views  of  life,  and  to  liberate  the  mind. 

Especially  noteworthy  is  the  providential  intermixture  of  the  alien  Jewish  element. 
With  respect  to  the  Jews,  it  is  obvious  that  the  fragments  of  that  nation  were  preserved  for  the 
purpose  of  counteracting  the  tendencies  of  nations  to  grow  callous  and  ossify.  We  recognised 
the  Semitic  element  as  a  dissolvent,  as  a  decomposing  ingredient  wherever  it  is  mixed  into 
specific  cultures  of  national  growth. 

In  a  nation  tainted  with  corruption  exceeding  the  usual  measure  of  depravity,  the  Jews 
provoke  a  salutary  counteraction  of  fermentation,  thus  serving  as  a  salt  against  de- 
cay. Besides  their  resembling  a  macerating  fluid,  which  tests  the  purity  of  metals,  the 
Jewish  element  tests  the  genuineness  of  patriotism.  Against  a  narrow  minded  restriction  of 
legitimate  cosmopolitanism  or  nativistic  tendencies  it  will  insist  upon  toleration.  After  their 
own  national  particularism  and  theocratic  bigotry  had  been  eliminated  from  the  Jews  they 
became  the  staunchest  advocates  of  cosmopolitanism  and  toleration,  ever  promulgating  both 
with  a  dogged  persistence  as  against  the  particularism  of  the  nations  which  paid  them  back 
for  their  bigotry.  Now  and  again  they  will  cause  Christian  nations,  growing  indifferent  as  to 
their  religious  privileges,  to  appreciate  the  advantages  of  Christian  civilisation.  They  ever 
serve  as  a  standing  admonition  to  Christendom,  to  beware  of  admiring  external  success  on 
the  score  of  mammonism,  and  to  spurn  the  cultivation  of  sham  and  imitation.  Their  over- 
bearing and  ostentatious  deportment  teaches  by  object  lessons  the  ugliness  of  these 
symtomatic  traits  of  character;  it  teaches  them  to  discountenance  that  pharisseical  and 
abstract  humanitarianism  which,  posing  in  selfcomplacency  assumes  the  nil-admirari  air 
under  pretense  of  stoic  cosmopolitanism. 

§  214.  This  up  and  down,  forward  and  backward  movement  of  the  thought  of  hu- 
manism, now  to  cosmopolitan  platitude  and  then  to  national  narrow-mindedness,  is 
always  in  keeping  with  the  fluctuations  of  the  two  chief  modes  of  thinking  ever  man- 
ifest in  the  attempts  to  embody  themselves  in  new  social  transformations  and  re- 
forms. These  oscillations  also  recur  with  the  regularity  of  the  pendulum.  The 
extreme  points  of  motion  always  clearly  indicate  the  undercurrent  of  either  the 
universalistic  or  the  subjectivistic  form  of  world-consciousness,  each  with  a  view  to 
establish  authoritative  rule,  which  views  alternate  accordingly.  The  universalistic 
world-theory  takes  will  in  the  abstract  sense  of  generalness  as  the  determining  cause. 


I 


I  [I  A.  CH.  m.  §  214.  ALTERNATION  OF  "PUBLIC  OPINION."  397 

and  as  that  which  is  real  in  the  realistic  (Platonic)  sense.    Individual  will  is  con-  'mbodTÄ^ew^^s  tn 
«idered  as  being  ruled  by  the  will  of  the  commonalty,  which  alone  has  any  right,  social  transformation»; 
The  right  to  have  a  will,  attributed  to  the  impersonal  public,  is  conceived  as  the  de-  indicating  either 
termining  factor  in  human  affairs,  and  requires  obedience  as  the  chief  virtue,  ecclesi-  subjectivistic 
astically  and  politically.  Individual  rights  are  valued  and  adjusted  according  to  their  consciousness, 
subordination  to  the  right  of  the  social  organism  as  a  whole.     "Concentration  of  Discrepancies  of 
irovernmental  power"  is  made  the  catch-word  as  in  the  time  of  Guizot.    After  a  modern 

sociolofiry 

longer  or  shorter  time  we  find  the  tendency  changing.    The  individual  is  taken  for  a 
determining  factor  and  the  sole  reality.   Individual  will  in  company  with  other  indi-  to  ideas  of 
vidual  wills  constitutes  the  will  of  the  totality,  at  least  of  a  majority.    By  free  assent  jufhoritative 
among  themselves  the  individual  wills  represent  a  contract  on  terms,  giving  author-  universaiistic 
Ity  to  will,  that  is,  to  the  association  of  ideas— a  social  silent  agreement  separable  at  world-theory 
the  pleasure  of  the  arbitrating  parties.    This  tendency  reveals  itself  in  every  di-  abstract  sense  of 
rection,  even  in  the  parcelling  out  of  land;  in  the  laying  out  of  cities  and  in  their  generainess, 
petty  jealousies;  in  the  guarding  against  infringement  upon  state-rights;  in  the  sus-  com^monau7äVon'ehM 
picion  against  the  centralisation  of  governmental  powers.    Individual  rights  are  individual  rights  to 
made  the  regulator  in  the  administration  of  justice,  the  common  right  being  con-  ^^g^nu^ti^n!''*' 
sidered  as  the  product  of  individual  willingness.  "concentration  of 

government''.       Guizot. 

There  we  have  the  ancient,  here  the  modern  state.    The  one  held  sway  throughout  the  _,      , 
Middle- Ages,  perpetuated  by  virtue  of  Platonism.    The  other  developed  from  the  philosophy  changes  to 
of  Meister  Eckhardt,  Descartes,  Hobbes,  and  Rousseau.    It  is  to  be  remembered,  however,  subjectivism, 
that  generalising  these  movements  of  the  nominalistic  and  realistic  modes  of  thought  as  to  By  free  arbitration 
their  preponderance  during  the  two  periods  referred  to,  does  not  exclude  minor  scintillations  individual  wills  »re 

*        '^  =>  *  made  the  source  oi  »ne 

of  both,  universaiistic  and  subjectivistic  world-theories  in  each  period.  general  will. 

That  wavering  alternation  between  the  two  principal  conceptions  of  the  origin  term^* '=°''*"^* '"' 
and  authority  of  the  state,  of  the  relations  of  right  between  the  individual  and  the  p^PasS^oftheVrties. 
totality,  rests  upon  the  dualism  of  the  given  modes  of  thought.    Feeling  and  passive  .   (Skessio».) 

self  abnegation  prevailing,  inclines  to  the  oriental  form  of  consciousness,  where  the  Sftlngementt  of 
individual  is  deemed  to  be  but  a  particle  of  the  all-oneness  molding  and  conditioning  c!ml^on"Jhttti*e 
his  existence.     Under  the  prevalence  of  practical  energy  and  the  sense  of  liberty  the  ^  aungneU''*^''''^"*^ 
occidental  forms  of  life  arise,  where  personal  ambitiousness  asserts  itself,  whilst.  The  two  theories 
perhaps,  considerateness  for  the  rights  of  others  and  the  common  welfare,  and  the  and^mTdem^ideasTbout 
maxim  of  equity  is  pushed  to  the  background.    Yonder,  in  the  theocratic  and  despotic  BotVscintiiiate  in  each 
formations  of  society  the  individual  is  but  a  phenomenon  of  being  in  the  abstract,  «Xronepred'omfnates. 
being  in  general.     Here  the  individual  feels  himself  a  person,  as  the  essential  These  oscillations  issue 

o  o  r  7  from  the  dualism  of  the 

part  of  being,  whilst  being  in  general,  as  far  as  it  becomes  an  entity  in  the  concrete  given  modes  of  thought. 
form  of  existence  is  conceived  as  the  fortuitous  result  which  the  person  is  bent  Sfabnegation 
upon  to  produce  and  to  modify.  oSaiumr"  ""^^ 

These  two  main  forms  of  world-consciousness  stand  in  relation  to — yea,  are  con-  nberty  prlvfi^ung** 
nected  with,  the  old  polar  tension.    The  preponderance  of  the  one  calls  forth  the  ^k^^"**^  *°'''°*  °*  "*' 
counteraction  of  the  other,  whereby  the  oscillations  originate  which  take  place  al-  in  pantheistic 
ternately  in  the  formations  of  public  opinion.    A  revolution,  as  considered  from  this  fhe  pern  ^of  ^^^^ 
point  of  view,  is  but  a  sudden  transition  in  which  the  poles  change  places.    These  theocratic 
contrasting  world-theories  have  always  existed  side  by  side,  and  in  a  general  way  ^^^^^  c!™rete  form 
fluctuated  through  the  Orient  as  well,  if  not  as  often  as  they  have  excited  the  Occident.  <>*  existence  considered 

°  '  •'  as  the  fortuitous  result 

But  scientifically  conceived,  and  formulated,  and  purposely  agitated  they  were  not  tentu*onto'^'rod'uceor 
until  the  scholastic  contests  were  enacted  upon  the  occidental  arena.  «>  modify. 

Realism   represented  universaiistic  tendency  in  which    synthetical  generalities  were  public°opinion. 
thought  to  condition  the  reality  of  being,  the  primary  principal  lying  in  the  cognition  of  ,  ^       ,  ^  . 

.    ^    ,.^  J.         .     J.    .,        ,,      .  J.J.    .J        ,..^  f         J       IB  »  Scientifically  formulate^ 

totality  as  preceding  individual  being  and  individuality.  and  agitated  were  these 

Nominalism  on  the  other  hand,  maintained  the  doctrine,  that  being  in  the  abstract  was  tbeori^s""ni7since  the 
real  only  in  the  things  themselves,  and  outside  of  them  did  not  exist  at  all.  scholastic  contests  upon 

As  incapable  as  the  schools  were,  to  bring  the  contest  to  a  satisfactory  conclusion, 
as  little  could  the  contests  accrue  to  the  upbuilding  of  a  harmonious  society.    The  "and 

two  world-theories,  either  of  which  ever  rests  on  one  of  these  two  modes  of  thinking.        Nominalism. 
the  universaiistic  and  the  subjectivistic,  seem  destined  to  remain  permanent  in  schools  reached  no 

-         ,  .  .  ,         J ,  satisfactory  conclusion 

order  to  counterpoise  each  other.  and  their  contests 

Upon  the  happy  accomplishment  of  this  equation  depends  the  salutary  progress  ^p^buiiTinrof  ^ 
of  family  and  national  life,  of  political  economy,  and  of  civilising  culture. 


the  occidental  arena. 
Realism 


398 

Esthetic 
oscillations. 


Individualism 
destructive  to  society  In 

Liberalism. 

Period  of 

emancipated 

subjectivism. 

Reaction  against  the 

Spinozian 

■view  of  the  world. 

Individualism 
sank  back  into 
the  greneralness 
of  universalism. 

Rise  of 

monarchical 

absolutism. 

Reaction  again  on  the 
part  of  subjectivism 
against  universalism. 
Manchestrian 
theories. 

Ad.  Smith. 

Refuge  in 
Kantianism 

from  democratic 
antipathy  to  authority. 

Hierarchy  and 
democracy 
coalesce  in 
demanding  the 
rights  to  enjoy 
liberty  and  to 
rule  at  the  same 
time. 

Continual  effort  to 
rearrange  aesthetic 
expressions  of  the 
imagination. 

Changes  of 

public  taste, 
"seasons  of 
fashion". 

Not  explicable  by  the 
"law  of  nervous 
relaxation." 

Fluctuations  of 
fashion  reducible 
to  such  views  as 
exhibited  in  the 
"Wealth  of 
nations",  to  the 
desire  of 

Sersonal 
estinction,  etc., 
or  to  uniformism 
of  state  or 
church,  school  or 
lodge,  etc. 

Extravagance  of  high 
officials, 

and  legislation  as  to 
courses  at  table 
according  to  rank. 

Problem  of  the 
advantages  and  reverses 
«n  the  line  of 

national  and 

private 

prosperity, 

to  be  postponed. 

Both  forms  of  world- 
consciousness, 
tiniversalistic,  (or 
communistic)  and 
subjectivistic  are 
necessary  to  poise  the 
erroneous  views  in  their 
attempts  to  rule  the 
true  thought  of 
humanity  out  of  order. 


iESTHETIC  OSCILLATIONS.— "FASHIONS.' 


Ill  A.  Ch.  m.  §  214. 


The  process  of  detachment  of  individuals  and  classes  from  the  commonalty,  the 
reluctance  of  sharing  the  common  obligations,  and  the  desire  to  evade  disagreeable 
duties  result  from  false  notions  of  freedom.  It  is  the  current  of  the  tendency  which 
characterises  the  left  wings  of  parliaments,  pretending  to  promulgate  enlightenment, 
liberty  and  progress.  The  period  of  emancipation  and  separatistic  subjectivism  was 
followed  by  the  reaction  and  relaxation,  which  found  its  utterance  in  the  Spinozian 
world-theory.  After  Descartes  the  ego  had  reached  its  limits,  emaciated  individual- 
ism sank  back  into  the  generalness  of  universalism,  with  its  abstract  sublimate  of 
substance  from  which  everything  could  be  made.  Under  the  sway  of  the  doctrine  of 
generalised  personality  the  states  became  absolute  monarchies. 

Frederick  the  Great  hated  the  idea  of  municipal  and  corporative  rights ;  and  Napoleon 
said:  "Fate?  The  state  is  the  fate"!  In  our  century  the  new  reaction  against  universal 
generalness  on  the  part  of  subjectivism  is  marked  by  the  economic  dogmas  of  Adam  Smith's 
school  running  out  into  the  Manchestrian  theories.  The  formation  of  affairs  is  left  to  the 
will  and  energy  of  the  individual  under  the  catch- words  "help  yourself"  and  "free  competi- 
tion". The  dangers  of  the  dis.'^olution  of  society  becoming  apparent,  refuge  is  sought  espec- 
ially in  Kantianism.  Emphasis  is  given  to  obey  the  command;  legalistic  thought  and  authority 
of  law  are  mistaken  for  the  preservative  forces  of  society ;  good  times  are  expected  from  bal- 
lot and  legislature.  The  right  of  forming  commonalities,  of  organising  any  kind  of  associa- 
tions is  insisted  upon,  whilst,  at  the  same  time,  protection  for  the  individual  and  the  associa- 
tion is  demanded  from  the  commonwealth.  Coalescence  of  the  rights  to  enjoy  liberty  and  at 
the  same  time  to  rule  is  demanded  by  such  wonderful  coalitions  as  that  formed  by  the  hierarchy 
and  the  democracy.  And  another  reaction  will  set  in  at  the  time,  when  it  shall  have  become 
necessary  that  individual  right  must  liberate  humanity  from  the  communistic  state. 

Thus  the  oscillation  of  world-consciousness  will  become  noticeable  in  every  re- 
lation of  life.  Even  with  respect  to  the  public  taste  will  we  observe  climatic  changes 
as  it  were— seasons  of  fashion.  For  a  period  the  Gothic  style  of  architecture  is  dom- 
inant until  the  world  gets  tired  of  it,  and  the  renaissance  becomes  the  fashion;  after 
which  in  turn  a  taste  for  the  Romanesque  or  Rococo  is  cultivated  for  awhile.  We 
witness  continual  efforts  to  rearrange  the  sesthetic  expressions  of  the  imagination 
on  a  parallel  with  the  political  and  literary  transitions.  Every  one  of  the  aesthetic 
undulations  is  marked  by  intervenient  shorter  seasons  of  fashion,  pertaining  to 
things  of  everyday  use,  to  household  utensils,  furniture  and  wearing  apparel.  But 
no  more  than  the  short  seasons  of  fashions,  can  the  more  important  alternations  un- 
der discussion  be  explained  by  the  law  of  nervous  relaxation  from  monotony.  For 
we  know  of  entire  centuries  in  which  dresses  were  of  the  same  cut. 

These  fluctuations  are  to  be  reduced  to  the  prevailing  world-consciousness  gov- 
erning the  views  as  to  the  "Wealth  of  Nations"  and  luxury;  to  the  desire  to  appear 
prominent  and  stately;  to  the  prompting  of  demonstrating  personal  selfhood  and  dis- 
tinction, or  individual  oddity;  or  to  the  uniformism  of  the  state  or  the  church. 

When  Charles  the  Bold  went  to  the  battle  of  Granson,  he  took  a  hundred  gold-embroid- 
ered coats  along.  August  of  Saxony,  trying  to  outrival  the  French  court,  spent  80,000  Thaler 
for  a  single  play  in  his  opera  house.  Count  Bruehl,  the  Saxon  minister,  possessed  seventy 
silken  morning  gowns.  The  desire  of  the  lower  classes  to  imitate  such  luxury  was  checked 
in  those  times  of  absolutism  by  special  laws  prescribing  even  the  courses  available  for  the 
various  ranks.  "We  have  seen  well  enough  the  ridicule  of  the  old  priggish  ordinances;  we 
have  read  from  the  statutes  at  large  which  fashioned  men's  gowns  and  womens'  farthingales 
by  acts  of  parliaments".  That  period  was  followed  by  the  other,  in  which  kings  called  them- 
selves first  servants  of  the  states,  dressing  and  living  in  the  simplicity  of  the  civilian.  Plain- 
ness and  equality  in  attire  took  the  place  of  silly  extravagance.  And  now  the  time  is 
drawing  near  when  in  place  of  monarchs,  the  kings  of  railroads,  and  of  the  ex- 
change will  live  in  royal  style.  Luxury  will  not,  perhaps,  show  itself  in  chests  filled  with 
fine  linen  or  in  the  number  of  morning  gowns,  but  it  will  display  itself  at  any  rate,  in  such 
a  manner  as  to  provoke  the  envy  and  wrath  of  the  "proletarians",  and  induce  them  to  jump 
from  subjectivistic  to  communistic  theories  of  life. 

Our  meditation  comes  near  to  an  anticipation  of  the  problem  of  advantages  and 
reverses  on  the  line  of  national  and  private  prosperity,  from  the  consideration  of 
which  we  must  desist  as  yet,  however,  until  we  have  observed  still  more  of  the  oscil- 
lations caused  by  the  modifications  of  world-consciousness.  So  far  we  have  reviewed 
the  contrasts  caused  by  the  prevalence,  periodically  alternating,  of  either  an  univer- 
salistic  or  a  subjectivistic  world-theory.  Both  tendencies  are  necessary  to  poise  the 
erroneous  views  of  life,  which,  in  their  extremes,  attempt  to  rule  the  true  thought  of 


in  A.  Ch.  rV.  §  215.     PERSONS  INSTRUMENTAL  IN  FURTHERING  DIVINE  PURPOSES.  899 

humanity  out  of  order.  They  are  to  keep  each  other  in  permanent  mobility.  Hence 
they  never  come  to  rest,  like  the  perpendicle,  fastened  at  one  end,  and  oscillating 
from  right  to  left  and  from  left  to  right,  until  the  finger  stops  the  restlessness 
and  regulates  the  movement.    This  finger  is  at  hand. 

CH.  IV.    HERO-WORSHIP;  GENIUS  AND  TALENT.    THE  PRESS. 

§  215.  Shall  we  have  to  examine  the  so-called  "great  men"  with  a  view  of  accept-  rJViatin^the*eff"cte  of 
ing  their  agency  as  that  finger  wliich  directs  the  perpetuum  mobile  of  counter-  theories"* '^°'^'^'  %n 
poising  world-theories?    Much  of  their  historic  importance  consists  in  their  ability  to  •'•'«  ^-  M"^"» 

unite  opposing  tendencies  by  finding  the  formula  of  the  equation,  or  by  mastering  the 
contrasts;  and  in  ameliorating  the  commotion  and  the  strain  of  polarity— each  for  a 
certain  length  of  time  at  least. 

But  let  us  put  the  question:  Who  creates,  in  whom  originates  historical  move- 
ment? The  literary  master-minds,  or  those  excelling  in  sciences  and  arts,  or  those 
leading  on  in  battles?  Do  they  not  carry  the  masses  along  with  them?  Do  not 
they  start  the  series  of  new  thoughts,  or  give  the  impulses  for  new  discoveries  and  in- 
ventions? Are  not  they  responsible  for  the  wars?  Are  they  not  the  founders  of  new  Hero-worship,  carly«. 
states?  The  hero  of  hero-worship  is  Carlyle.  Every  one  of  his  favorites  he  pre- 
sents as  a  representative  and  plenipotentiary  of  the  Infinite  One.  But  thereby  he 
drags  into  mere  terrestrial  mutability  what  lies  far  above  it.  Others  besides  Carlyle 
have  done  this,  who  would  bend  to  the  bias  of  their  views  the  select  ones  of  Lange^  prldeTSd'persons. 
for  instance.    But  Carlyle  assigns  everything  to  the  great  instruments,  and  thereby  ^^"* 

deprives  all  their  contemporaries  of  their  merits  as  coefficients,  and  takes  from  his- 
tory the  purpose  animating  it.  He  could  not  rise  to  the  cognition  that  history  per- 
forms anything;  that  it  is,  equal  with  nature,  the  incarnation  of  the  all-controlling 
thought.  In  the  last  resort  there  is  no  history,  for  Heaven  and  the  favorites  of 
Heaven  do  everything. 

Why  did  no  one  at  the  time  of  Alexander,  we  ask  with  Niebuhr,  create  a  piece  of  Concept  of 
art  bearing  the  mark  of  perfection?    Because  the  condition  of  men  at  that  time  fenleredlSrofane 
afforded  none  of  the  requirements.  And  who  creates  those  conditions?  who  causes  the  if  attributed  to 
mood  of  an  age  ?    Men  do  that.    Each  period  bears  the  peculiar  impress  of  theij.  favorUes. 
character,  formed  according  to  their  stage  of  consciousness.    (Saying  this,  we  ac-  nikbuhb. 

knowledge,  of  course,  that  a  personality  stands  behind,  beyond  men.)  of'rafn  ofTreeminr* 

The  biography  of  a  particular  personage  unfolds  before  us  the  history  of  his  age  «^aracter. 
and  generation.    The  first  and  lowest  stage  of  individual  life  falls  in  the  period  of  „(PoXmporaneous^'^™ 
concealed  vegetative  formation,  in  which  the  spirit  seems  entirely  absorbed  in  the  iii^tory. 
work  of  rendering  itself  plastic,  in  the  upbuilding  of  its  apparatus.    The  absorption 
«f  an  artist  in  shaping  the  creature  of  his  imagination  may  illustrate  this,  except  Genesis  of 
that  the  artist's  mind  cannot  itself  enter  into  his  sculpture  or  painting,  in  the  man-  leading  minds.j 
ner  that  the  spirit  animates  soul  and  body. 

For  the  spirit  is,  as  an  entity,  dwelling  within  that  individualised  portion  of  life,  within  g^^j  ^^  individualised 
that  soul,  which  was  lying  dormant  in  tellurian  matter,  which  lives  in  the  plant,  and  which  in  general  life; 
animal  life  approaches  the  manifestations  of  a  will.    What  builds  up  the  human  body  is  the 
same  life  which  builds  up  the  palm-tree  to  conform  to  its  inherent  law  ;  which  moves  the  bird  to 
leave  for  warmer  climes ;  which  teaches  the  beaver  to  construct  its  abode  in  the  water ;  which  embraced  by  the  spirit 

becomes  psychical  and 

the  bee  reveals  to  us  when  it  forms  its  symmetrical  cell.  Why  not  call  it  the  world-soul,  which  builds  up  the  human 
in  its  highest  form  of  individualisation,  and  at  the  moment  of  its  being  embraced  by  the  ^°*^^ 
spirit,  becomes  psychical  and  begins  to  build  the  human  body? 

Into  this  physico-psychical  frame,  in  accord  with  the  psychical  mode  of  forma,  ^^^^j^^  ^^  ^^^^^^  .^ 
tive  procedure,  the  spirit  infuses  the  gift  of  language,  its  own  form  of  communica-  SdweTunVspirit 
tion.    The  faculty  of  speech  is  built  into  that  finely  differentiated  and  henceforth 
loud-thinking  organism.    The  soul  becomes  endowed  with  the  ability  to  reflect  the  sS^  ^u'^bjSobreot. 
spirit,  to  become  an  object  for  its  own  self.    This  faculty  of  thinking  aloud  reveals  ^^^^  ^  ^^^^ 
Its  metaphysical  nature,  its  systematic  regularity  the  more  distinct  and  mathemati-  ™^*^^fj"f' "^^^  °**"'^^  °' 
Cal  in  proportion  to  its  native  naivety,  being  preserved  more  original  and  child-like 
and  less  sophisticated,  preserved  in  that  state  wherein  language  comes  from  the  heart,  ^^'"^^  °*  expression. 
and  in  which  the  reflection  of  mind-life  is  least  affected  but  most  affectionate.  ^^.^^^  personifies  itseif 

Thus  the  spirit,  true  to  its  nature  of  unity  and  communication,  realises  and  man-  JUdivIduaf "ouf)  which 
ifests  itself  as  the  inspiration  of  the  soul.    And  as  the  spirit  personifies  and  charac-  „^uids  the  culture  and 
terises  itself  in  the  language  of  the  individual  soul,  so  it  molds  the  art  and  poetry,  character  of  nations. 
the  culture  and  character  of  an  entire  nation. 


400 


POWER  OF  LANGUAGE— MEASURE  OF  ADVANCEMENT.  Ill  A.  CH.  IV.  §  216. 


"Great''  men  find 
language  ready  made. 


Life's  success  owes 
much  to  proper  use 
of  this  gift. 


The  part  which 
great  men  are  to 
the  totality  of 
their  nation. 


Importance  of  mental 
and  moral  atmosphere 
for  the  acquisition  of 
talent. 


Receptivity  first 
to  be  cultivated, 


Duties  of  society  toward 
individuals ; 
punishment  of  their 
neglect. 

Reciprocity 

between 

personality  and 

totality 

enhancing 

progressive 

prosperity. 


Variety  of  talents 
displayed  and  results 
procured. 


Functional  part 
of  social 
organism 
develops  in  a 
process  of  which 
men  are 
unconscious. 


A  Nation  has  no 
soul. 


'Spirit  of  the 

times". 


The  world-theory  held 
in  common  by  the  mass 
at  a  given  period — and 
unconsciously  governing 
the  people, 

controlling 
public  opinion. 


Evidently  this  vehicle  of  thought  and  apparatus  of  communication,  through 
which  personal  life  is  to  a  certain  extent,  fashioned  directly,  is  one  of  the  data,  which 
the  "great  men"  find  ready  made.  Upon  mastering  the  language,  and  upon  the  use 
made  of  it,  depends  much  of  the  success  of  their  life-work.  By  means  of  it  they  ap- 
propriate to  themselves  the  net  earnings  of  preceding  minds,  and  the  advice  of  ex- 
perienced contemporaries.  Language  designates  the  grade  in  the  scale  of  progress,, 
and  the  degree  of  the  spiritual  atmosphere  forming  the  mental  environments  in 
which  great  minds  find  themselves.  Above  that  they  can  rise  only  in  proportion  ta 
their  appropriation  of  the  wealth  of  language,  that  it  may  be  at  their  command  for 
proper  use.  Hence  their  elevated  pedestal  is  always  formed  by  the  achievements  of 
the  totality  of  their  nation.  If  they  are  great  they  become  conscious  of  the  fact  that 
they  owe  their  position  to  the  mental  and  moral  atmosphere  in  which  they  were 
raised;  and  acknowledfije  that  with  and  through  this  influence  they  had  to  acquire 
their  talents;  and  that  in  the  first  place  their  receptivity  had  to  be  cultivated  by 
others.  All  other  cultural  accomplishments  depend  upon  this  educational  founda- 
tion; and  only  under  this  discipline  will  the  spirit  come  to  the  maturity  requisite  to 
the  yielding  of  fruits  of  the  spirit;  not  otherwise  is  the  ability  obtainable  to  give  in  re- 
turn and  enrich  civilisation.  This  reciprocal  interaction  between  personality  and 
totality,  from  which  history  ensues,  is  to  continue  and  extend.  Even  the  most  insig- 
nificant or  rather  unostentatious  life  of  any  human  being  takes  its  share  of  imponder- 
able nutrition  from  its  mental  atmosphere.  The  most  humble  member  of  the  humaa 
family  returns  its  contribution  of  mental-moral  results  to  society— its  bad  influence» 
too,  frequently  in  the  way  of  punishment  for  the  negligence  of  society  as  to  its  duties 
towards  individuals. 

From  this  altitude  of  civilisation,  a  people  in  its  enterprise  and  emulation  ap- 
pears as  one  large  industrial  establishment.  The  material  is  distributed  among  the 
individual  workers,  and  the  diverse  products  of  toil,  bearing  the  mark  of  more  or  less^ 
of  their  ingenuity  and  skill,  is  delivered  into  the  storage.  The  wealth  of  the  whole 
consists  in  the  variety  of  talents  displayed  and  results  procured,  in  the  promptness 
and  agility  of  reciprocal  interaction—all  implying  a  high  grade  of  organic  differen- 
tiation. The  prosperity  of  a  nation  therefore,  consists  in  the  sum  of  labor  performed 
by  the  mass,  and  is  enhanced  in  value  proportionately  to  the  variety,  to  the  prompt- 
ness of  cooperation,  and  to  the  improvement  of  individual  aptness.  And  upon  the 
whole,  this  development  of  the  functional  part  of  the  social  organism  transpires  in 
the  same  unconscious  process  as  that  to  which  we  alluded  when  speaking  of  the 
genesis,  and  again  of  the  generative  import  of  language.  We  also  spoke  of  the 
recuperation  of  strength  during  sleep,  when  the  vital  organs  of  the  body  operate 
quietly  but  most  energetically  without  our  becoming  conscious  of  it.  In  the  same 
manner  grows  language,  grow  ideas,  and  grow  up  the  men  of  fame. 

§  216.  Notwithstanding  this  social,  organic  reciprocal  interaction  it  is  vitiat- 
ing to  speak  of  a  national  spirit,  inasmuch  as  it  causes  an  idea  of  a  nation  having  a. 
soul  manifesting  itself  in  the  "voice"  of  the  people.  The  spirit  of  a  nation  is  nothing 
but  what  we  designate  by  the  vague  phrase  "spirit  of  the  times,"  that  is,  the  view  of 
life  or  world-theory  held  in  common  by  the  mass  of  the  people  at  a  given  period,  and 
unconsciously  governing  them.  The  human  spirit  as  such  is  not  the  product  of  the 
incidents  of  an  age;  it  is  not  the  square  root  of  the  sum  of  a  column  of  added 
ciphers.  As  the  personifying  factor  the  spirit  is  an  entity  sui  generis.  It  is  this 
specific  quality  of  the  spirit  which  causes  that  proud  delight,  that  just  and  ennob- 
ling selfesteem  which  may  fill  one  with  the  consciousness  of  aspiring  and  attaining^ 
to  a  special  branch  of  usefulness.  True  as  it  is  that,  with  reference  to  the  physico-psy- 
chical  constitution  and  temperament,  each  individual  is  a  child  of  his  time:  so  false  is 
it,  to  consider  a  person,  a  character,  as  being  the  result  of  circumstances.  For,  on  the 
part  of  character,  each  is  of  a  special  value  in  himself,  he  is  somebody  in  particular, 
the  only  one  of  his  kind;  he  is  an  individ-able  entity  existing  but  in  this  one  specimen. 

There  is  a  species  of  individual  consciousness  telling  one  in  all  modesty,  but  actu- 
ally in  excuse  of  a  certain  inertia,  that  he  is  a  very  small  part  of  the  human  totality. 
It  rather  tarries  in  the  esprit  de  corps  instead  of  asserting  itself  as  the  personal  will 
which  consciously  ought  to  disengage  itself  from  that  collective  consciousness  belonging 


m  A.  Ch.  IV.  §  216.     ATTITUDE  OF  THE  GENIUS  TOWARD  PUBLIC  OPINION.  401 

to  the  people  in  common.  True,  this  collective  consciousness,  tho  but  a  matter  of  capri-  Great  minds  are 
cious  opinion,  wields  a  power  from  which  emancipation  is  scarcely  possible.    It  con-  "egaiSiess^Ahis 
stitutes  itself  from  traditional  views  and  educational  coeflScients  which  come  in  an  pr  the  other 
uninterrupted  historical  succession  to  be  inherited  by  each  generation  severally,  flowing  from  the 
There  arises  the  difficulty;  for  of  whatever  force  that  general  consciousness  may  be,  generafwi^T 
it  can,  on  the  one  side,  exert  no  other  influence  upon  a  person,  but  that  to  which,  yet,  personality 
at  the  maturity  of  his  mind,  he  is  willing  to  submit;  whilst  at  the  same  time  for  j)Vc?rcum8t?nces. 
reasons  of  the  relative  dependency  of  the  human  being  on  its  natural  part,  emanci-  Person  is  to  become 
pation  from  common  tenets  of  world-consciousness  in  its  collective  form  and  force  vägTe^**^***^  ''^°™  **"* 
can  never  be  rendered  complete.    Tho  it  were  possible  for  a  person  to  soar  above  the  Tradi°tionar** 
world-consciousness  predominant  at  his  time  in  all  other  respects,  the  language  of  his  views  as 
people  would  still  bind  him  to  participate  in  the  views  of  life  governing  his  contemporaries,  coefficients 
Thus  the  undeniable  fact  becomes  evident  that  every  individual  temperament  is  the  dlscardedf"^*"^ 
issue  of  two  correlative  factors.    Man  is  endowed  with  relative  independency  de-  *°  T'^'"'\  «7» .  _, 

"■  "  inaepenaent  minds  ar» 

signed  for  selfhood;  whilst  he  is  dependent  at  the  same  time  upon  environment,  to  »'ed  through  language. 
which  he  is  to  adjust  himself,  and  by  means  of  which  alone  he  is  enabled  to  obtain  M^se?A?"^* 

his  ethical  culture.  förmTn"g™the* 

Hence  not  the  greatest  of  minds  ever  claimed  the  radiance  of  glory  as  His  own«  apparatus  for 
Excellency  of  mind  is  based  upon  the  crystalline  structure  of  a  person's  char-  ci1tu*?e?^^ 
acteristics.    The  more  surfaces  and  axes  a  crystal  presents,  the  more  receptive  it  is  j^^^  ^^^  greatest 
for  the  light  penetrating  them,  and  the  more  distinct  and  definite  will  be  the  magic  of  minds  claimed 
play  and  brilliancy  of  the  refracted  rays.    This  is  the  secret  of  the  influence  which  a  ^  hfmse^f?^  *^"^ 
symmetrical  character  exerts  upon  cultural  advance  in  general.    Our  great  lights  crystalline  structure  of 
would  not  shine  forth  in  such  lustre,  if  the  texture  and  inner  combination  of  their  personal  characteristics. 
mental  and  moral  incipiencies  had  been  less  receptive;  if  they  had  not  consolidated  Receptivity  of  mental 

•^  ^  '  "  and  moral  incipiencies, 

under  pressure  or  according  to  the  laws  of  homogeneity  and  affinity  by  which  impure 
elements  were  excluded,  if  they  had  been  different  from  what  they  appeared  to  be.  SeTsure,'  * 

Now  in  the  measure  as  one  of  the  correlatives  exalting  a  mind  preponderates,  under  exclusion  of 
either  adjustment  to  matters  upon  which  we  depend,  or  assertion  of  selfhood,  the  pTe^requSsites^o  *^^ 
difficult  distinction  between  persons  of  either  talents  or  genius  will  arrange  itself.  ^'^''^^^^'"'^■ 
Here  personal  selfhood  rises  from  the  concealed  spiritual  spring  to  assert  itself;  here  ofJ-ecl^tM??^^*^ 
the  texture  of  the  hiner  life  hidden  beneath  innumerable  intrinsic  relations,  which  and  of 
remain  mysterious  despite  the  external  manifestations  of  this  individuality— the  gen-  externailSfes? 
ius.  There  the  environments  chiefly  furnish  the  lessons  for  ethical  exercise,  and  serve  Q^j^j^g  hidden 
as  conductors  of  the  light  into  a  mind  with  refined  receptivity  building  up  its  in  the  texture  of 

,    ,      ,  the  inner  life. 

talents.  §  15, 

Herder  may  serve  as  an  example  of  a  personality  in  which  talent  and  genius  were  inti- 
mately blended,  yet  each  conspicuously  manifest.  His  greatness  consisted,  as  Vilmar  describes 
the  secret  thereof,  in  "the  grandeur  of  his  universalistic  culture".  Besides  of  eminently 
noble  ethical  qualities,  the  caliber  of  his  mental  receptivity  was  capable  of  encompassing  a  wide 
range  of  erudition.  In  his  clear  mind,  with  the  humane  inclination  of  his  emotional  nature, 
there  was  room  for  the  voices  of  all  nations.  His  ethical  delicacy  and  lingual  versatility  found 
the  word  for  the  touching  utterances  of  grief  and  of  mirth,  the  word  which  calls  forth  sympa- 
thy and  conveys  a  solacing  answer.  The  wide  circle  of  humanity  seems  focussed  in  the  center 
of  his  being,  so  sensitive  for  impressions  and  so  able  to  echo  them  as  the  chords  vibrating 
under  the  touch  of  the  player  when  they  reverberate  in  tones  the  mood  of  the  soul. 

The  poet  earns  his  renown  by  simply  reflecting  from  his  mind  the  life  of  his  na- 
tion.   The  statesman  and  the  conqueror  cannot  accomplish  their  work  unless  their 
individual  gifts  receive  the  cultivation  necessary  to  qualify  them  to  "take  in"  the  de-  Jn^lt  m*erit  of 
tails  and  tendencies  of  movements  in  a  wide  horizon,  and  to  watch  their  chance  for  ifp^/aSiInd  &'!? 
action.    Thus  talent  controls  the  manner  in  which  it  allows  itself  to  be  influenced  "^ppii«^«"« 
and  in  which  it  will  exert  influences  in  return,  in  which  it  inadvertently  unites  merit 
of  sound  judgment  with  celerity  of  action,  and  acts  with  tact. 

But  the  person  of  genius  possesses,  aside  from  and  above  his  talent,  an  originality  mISpprehending  the 
for  which  it  is  not  so  easy  to  give  an  account.  Entirely  distinct  and  exceptional  in  its  genius!*^ 
peculiarity,  it  frequently  fails  to  utilise  those  incitements  of  its  surroundings  for  Q^j^.^^g  declines 
which  every  soul  is  disposed  and  for  which  it  yearns.    And  more  frequently  it  is  not  to  accommodate 
understood  and  misapprehended  by  inferior  contemporaries,  because  of  its  aversion  J*s^piJit**of  the 
to  adjust  its  conduct  to  the  hollow  phrases  of  the  time,  and  to  accommodate  itself  times", 

to  the  insipid  affectations  of  culture. 


402 


GENIUS  IN  ITS  ESSENCE  AKIN  TO  CONSCIENCE.         Ill  A.  CH.  IV.  §  216. 


ap 
of 


irenius. 


Genius  proves  the  mind 
to  be  designed  for 
independence; 

partakes  of  the  nature 
t)f  the  conscience. 

KiEHLKB. 

Genius  and 
conscience 

phenomena  of  the  same 
spiritual  life,  differing 
only  according  to  its 
dual  relations. 


Modern^  A  tra^redy  of  Shakespeare  is  rarely  performed;  the  real  opera  is  deserted  while  the 

superilciousness     *'Yariety  Theatre"  is  crowded  night  after  night.    To  use  Seeck's  criticism  of  modern  superfi- 
preciate  works  ciousness  which  is  unable  to  appreciate  genius,  ''modern  taste  will  prefer  a  Thumann  to  a 
Duerer",  a  sensual  Meyerbeer  to  a  classical  Bach  or  Schubert. 

Genius  is  of  that  depth  of  acumen  wliich  abhors  platitude.  It  acts  under  impul- 
ses of  an  incalculable  singularity,  which  goes  far  to  prove  the  selfhood  and  inde- 
pendence of  the  human  mind.  And  this  remaining  balance,  this  margin  of  psychi- 
cal life,  which  cannot  be  accounted  for  by  the  usual  statistical  squaring  of  accounts, 
partakes  of  the  nature  of  conscience.  Genius,  like  conscience  is  *  'a  witness  for  that 
mysterious  depth  of -our  being  beneath  its  earthly  face  and  its  everyday  dress  and 
working  apparel,  a  witness  for  that  profundity  of  the  soul,  from  whence  the  light- 
nings arise  which  so  frequently  strike  home  into  the  'reflecting  consciousness'  in  a 
most  bewildering  manner."    (Kaehler,  Das  Gewissen.) 

In  speaking  of  genius  we  meet  again,  as  when  we  spoke  of  conscience,  the  occult 
rudiments  of  our  being  on  that  side  of  psychical  life  of  which,  unconscious  and  with- 
out control  of  it,  as  we  are,  we  become  reminded  now  and  then.  For  genius  and  con- 
science are  but  different  phenomena  of  the  same  principal  part  of  our  nature  which 
only  manifests  itself  in  different  directions  according  to  its  dual  relations. 

Here  is  the  point  where  our  anthropological  system  cannot  be  rounded  off.  Here 
is  the  gap  at  the  bottom  of  which  the  open  question  remains.  Here  the  nature 
of  man  also  has  the  opening  through  which  it  receives  influences  from  the  spiritual 
world.  And  here  it  is  that  the  Manager  of  History  puts  in  His  finger  in  order  to  pro- 
cure the  changes  in  the  direction  of  human  affairs.  The  undulations  of  ideas,  re- 
sulting from  earthly  conditions,  from  the  joint  labor  of  the  masses  are  merely  acces- 
sory to  this  management,  resembling  the  earth  when  it  was  bid  to  let  plants  grow. 
These  incidentals  are  but  erratic  movements  in  concurrence  with,  or  in  antagonism 
to,  the  higher  interferences. 

It  was  of  eminent  import  to  universal  history,  that  Wilberforce  on  the  24th  day  of 
March,  A.  D.  1807,  after  persevering  in  contest  with  Foix  and  Pitt  for  eighteen  years,  obtained 
the  enactment  of  his  "Bill  to  abolish  Slavery".  Is  Wilberforce  ranked  among  the  great 
men?  Altho  not  judging  by  success  as  does  the  world,  which  would  have  buried  the  origina- 
tor's name  under  oblivion,  we  rank  him  among  the  champions  of  the  cause  of  humanism. 
But  he  was  only  great  in  that  he  reflected  upon,  and  persevered  in  agitating  the  measure  for 
which  the  times  were  ripe ;  in  that  he  assiduously  challenged  conservatism  and  became  the 
mouthpiece  of  the  humane  principle  of  civilisation. 

It  is  notorious  that  many  a  person  of  genius  lacks  sagacity  and  receptivity,  celer- 
ity and  pliability  of  mind,  and  trifles  away  the  opportunities  of  making  himself 
useful;  while  men  without  extraordinary  talents  enter  the  halls  of  renown,  because 
of  bestirring  themselves  to  come  to  an  understanding  with  their  surroundings. 
Smoothness,  like  the  polish  which  a  jewel  receives  by  grinding  and  rubbing,  we  may 
call  that  crystalline  many-sidedness  of  a  mind  with  a  well  cultivated  receptivity,  defi- 
cient of  which  the  best  endowed  genius  is  a  failure.  The  need  of  this  aptitude  for 
being  molded  and  directed  to  a  specific  calling,  profession  or  employment,  is  the  more 
pressing,  the  more  distinct  and  variegated  the  impressions  become,  which  from  a 
highly  organised  society  are  to  be  received  and  refracted,  and  the  more  complicated 
the  problems  which  demand  their  practical  solution  by  a  genius.  Hence  we  may 
understand,  why  in  the  normal  course  of  historic  advance  the  great  ingenious  minds 
become  rare,  in  proportion  as  the  many  high  qualities  of  contemporaneous  society  be- 
come more  general.  The  higher  the  degree  of  general  culture  the  more  difficult 
will  it  be  to  become  a  leading  man  in  the  right  track;  for  the  reason  that  all  around 
so  many  other  talents  and  lights  emulate  to  outshine  each  other— in  some  cases  by 
crooked  means.  A  genius  without  talent,  the  a  failure,  is  to  be  considered  a  genius 
nevertheless;  whilst  no  quantity  of  talent  per  se  can  ever  supersede  genius.  The  se- 
cret of  his  prominency  and  of  his  strength  lies  in  the  creative  power  of  the  imagina- 
tion, welling  up  from  depths  beyond  the  sphere  of  scientific  research.  But  as  the  most 
genial  artist  cannot  discard  given  forms,  so  can  not  the  imagination  of  the  genius 
dispense  with  the  requisite  erudition,  nor  dare  to  disregard  externals,  which  pre- 
vent it  from  degenerating  into  empty,  capricious  phantasy.  For  even  the  imagina- 
tion of  the  genius  is  the  creative  power  in  so  far  only,  as  it  rearranges  given  forms  into 
new  combinations  by  new  and  appropriate  methods.    Its  peculiar  merit  consists  in  thifl^ 


Wilberforce, 
Insisting  upon 
the  abolition  of 
slavery, 


not  a  genius,  but  a 
champion  of  the  cause 
of  humanism. 


Genius  a  failure 
if  negligent  in 
cultivating  the 
receptivity  of 
talent. 


If  the  measure  of 
mental  advance 
becomes  general 
«xcelling  minds  become 
rare. 


No  quantity  of 
talent  can 
supplant  genius. 

The  secret  of  the  genius 
lies  in  the  "creative 
power  of  the  mind", 
in  the  vivacity  of  the 
imagination. 


It  possesses  Ingenuity, 
i.  e.  the 

virtuosity  to 
arrange  given 
matters  into  new 
combinations  by 
new  and 
appropriate 
methods. 


ni  A.  Ch.  IV.  §  217.  INFLUENCE  OF  PUBLIC  OPINION.  403 

that  it  grasps  at  one  intuitive  and  comprehensive  glance  the  characteristic  lines  and  Genius  enjoys 
shades  at  hand,  gently  coercing  them  to  express  new  conceptions  of  the  essence  of  the  gift  of  the 
things,  or  to  represent  the  most  delicate  moods  of  the  soul.    Produced  under  these  ''^asp^'^        §  15. 
conditions,  a  work  of  art  calls  forth  or  echoes  at  once  the  corresponding  thought  or 
emotion  in  the  beholder  or  the  audience.    Much  like  the  genius  of  an  artist  or  an  or- 
ator must  be  the  ingenuity  of  him  who  governs  a  state  or  directs  a  battle.    Even  in  ideaL  * 
his,  perhaps,  uncouth  designs,  perpetrating  cruelties  with  a  high  hand  in  order  to  re- 
form or  to  transform,  he  needs  an  ideal  to  screen  his  disregard  of  human  rights  and 
the  destruction  of  cultures.    He  needs  a  new  combination  of  ideas  of  which  to  make 
himself  the  executioner.    But  in  order  to  accomplish  his  plans  of  transformation  or  rea?"aS,'f m^s  of 
of  reform,  a  nation  or  more  are  necessary,  which  accede  to  his  ideas  because  they  have  accide  ^  theTdeÄ 
already  harbored  them.  leadmgmmds. 

Most  likely  in  ancient  times,  and  surely  in  the  dark  Middle-Ages,  when  those 
masses  now  claiming  fanciful  "associated  ideas"  as  their  own,  did  not  yet  exist,  the 
heroes  of  the  mind  were  in  fact  of  themselves  and  alone  the  originators  of  new  ideas. 
But  to  modern  times  this  rule  applies  no  longer.    The  truth  is,  that  of  late  the  masses  Participation  of  the 
have  become  qualified  to  form  "their  own  judgments,"  for  the  simple  reason  that  they  un^dolng^'S^"»"' 
have  become  conscious  of  their  susceptibility  and  capacity  to  have  ideas  of  their  own. 
Civilised  nations  are  now  deeply  moved  by  public  events.    Down  to  the  lower  strata 
of  society  the  people  are  taking  interest  in  affairs  of  state  as  well  as  in  social  prob- 
lems.   At  present  the  many  are  engaged  in  what  in  earlier  times  were  tasks  incum- 
bent upon  single  persons,  and  they  therefore  claim  now  also  their  part  of  glory  and 
hero-worship,  eager  at  the  least  for  mention  in  a  paper.    They  know  that  they  parti- 
cipate in  the  work  of  making  heroes,  or  of  unmaking  individual  fame.  The  difficulties  Real  excellency 
which  obstruct  the  recognition  of    genius   nowadays  were  formerly  unknown;  pu*bifcfrown^>*^ 
especially  as  it  is  in  the  nature  of  highly  wrought  character  to  spurn  excellency  which  applause, 
must  be  obtained  by  catering  to  popularity,  and  to  avoid  that  newspaper  notoriety 
which  provokes  the  envy  of  inferior  minds  to  tear  down  the  reputation  of  just  that 
character  which  is  indifferent  to  frown  or  applause. 

§  217.    In  tranquil  times  and  a  normal  run  of  affairs  the  mass  forms  a  "public  Public  opinion 

"  *  .  .  in  its  shallowness  a 

opinion."  With  the  growing  condeijsation  of  the  populace  m  large  cities,  with  the  menacing  power. 
spread  and  increasing  shallowness  of  intelligence,  and  with  the  widening  of  the 
journalistic  field,  that  "public  ppinion",  manufactured  and  manipulated  by  the  press, 
becomes  a  menacing  power.  It  is  an  irresponsible  power,  unreliable  in  every 
respect,  wielding  a  willful,  fitful  influence  and  working  capriciously  in  any  direction 
it  pleases,  because  bare  of  character  and  of  any  definite  maxim. 

Unawares  public  opinion  becomes  a  tyrant,  despite  the  many  strong  opinions  uttered  Tyranny  of  the 
against  the  nefarious  practice  of  libeling  by  Supreme  Courts,  by  its  facilities  to  ostracise  peo-  press, 
pie  of  integrity  at  the  instigation  of  the  vilest,  and  to  the  satisfaction  of  a  gossipy,  clannish 
populace.    Methodically  manufacturing  "sensations"  the  press  becomes,  in  the  first  place,  the  Facility  to 
formidable  ally  of  such  as  are  able  to  hire  its  assistance  to  carry  out  their  wicked  schemes;  ostracise 
whereby  the  press,  in  the  second  place,  becomes  a  "paying  business"  whose  success  as  such  is  characters  of 
enough  to  command  the  admiration  of  the  public  which  judges  an  establishment  by  the  integrity, 
money  there  is  in  it.    Unawares,  however,  as  if  by  way  of  retribution,  this  tool  of  public  ca- 
price with  its  delight  in  scandal,  this  tyrant  allows  itself  to  become  the  servant  of  a  certain  fac- 
tion of  the  money  power  and  to  be  led  by  it  into  a  Babylonian  captivity.    For  upon  inquiry  it 
will  be  found,  that  not  only  in  the  offices  of  second-class  newspapers  the  advertising  agent 
has  as  much  to  do  with  the  tendency  of  a  "leader",  if  not  more,  than  the  occupant  of  the  edi- 
tor's chair— and  that  this  office  fixture  is  generally  a  Jew.    But  tho  the  press  is  said  to  lose  its 
prestige  at  the  rate  of  its  venality, and  despite  its  freedom  to  be  impertinent,  it  is  tyrannised  as  nberty  to^be'impertlnent, 
much  by  the  pennies  of  the  "proletarian"  as  by  capitalistic  cliques— it  still  wields  a  greater  is  under  the  tyranny  of 
power  than  that  which  the  commander  of  the  German  army  possesses :  a  power  with  which  factors, 
Governments  even  have  to  reckon.    In  order  to  utilise  the  press  in  molding  public  opinion 
for  certain  ends,  governmental  agents  must  become  silent  partners  of  public  enterprises.  Ki)^^e™ilent  ^ 
Even  those  sitting  upon  thrones  have  to  cultivate  the  frieudship  of  journalism  and  to  provide  partners  of 
for  its  pay,  just  as  the  military  budget  must  be  provided  for.  journalistic 

Still  more  of  an  annoyance,  an  unprincipled  servile  tyrant,  will  common  news-  ^^ 

paperdom  become,   when   in  times    of    excitement   and  turmoil   resolute   minds  ShemTre.^*  "^  ° 
make  the  press  subservient  to  their  designs.    For  in  times  of  uproar  and  confusion 
a  leader  is  wanted  by  the  vociferous  multitude;  and  a  leader  is  born  up  by  the  under- 
current, even  if  he  should  be  "a  dark  horse".    Any  shrewd  demagogue  may  of  a 


404 


THE  world's  heroes. 


Ill  A.  Ch.  v.  §  218. 


Short-lived  renown 
obtained  by 
demagoguery. 

Napoleon's  fraudnlent 
bulletins  sent  when 
open  hi»  "retirade" , 


Tru«,  heroes 
usually 

recognised  after 
their  weaknesses 
are  forgotten ; 

Von  Mosib. 


and  the  beneflcient 
results  of  their  efforts 
become  palpable. 


Hero-cult  but  a 
sign  of  the 
search  aft6r  that 
mind  which 
manages  human 
affairs  through 
human  instru- 
mentalities. 

The  radiance  of 
great  lights 
grows  dim ;  only 
surrogates  of 
the  light  of 
Heaven  until  in 
this  light  "the 
finger^' is 
perceived  which 
makes  use  of  the 
earthly 
candlesticks. 


sudden  swing  himself  into  the  saddle  of  popularity  until  the  delusion  subsides  and 
the  public  voice  puts  th«  rider  to  ridicule.  The  world  sees  many  frauds  of  the  brand 
of  a  Napoleon— writing  his  victorious  bulletin  to  the  "Moniteur"  on  Christmas-eve, 
1812— not  only  among  the  French,  and  fortunately  not  always  of  his  caliber.  Our 
race,  then  will  never  be  in  want  of  heroes  of  some  sort,  even  if  it  should  be  a 
balleteuse,  or  one  hastily  gotten  up,  either  selfappointed  or  made  to  order  in  cases 
of  emergency,  since  it  seems  destined  that  mankind  is  not  always  to  enjoy  a  peace- 
ful march  of  progress.  Passions  will  seize  the  masses  and  forces  burst  their  re- 
straints. 

Thus  the  world  will  have  heroes  in  which  people  see  pet  ideas  personified,  or 
fancy  they  see  their  own  image.  People  will  have  them  and  glorify  them,  tho  usu- 
ally doing  80  too  soon.  A  Wellington  or  Bismarck  is,  like  hickory,  of  slower 
growth.  The  metal,  of  which  a  man  must  be  forged  whom  history  will  acknowledge 
as  a  hero,  will  be  assayed  later  on.  As  to  true  excellency  our  full  recognition  of 
deserts  generally  lingers  behind,  because,  as  Von  Moser  said,  "the  name  of  every  great 
man  must  first  have  lost  its  cadaverous  smell,  the  memory  of  his  weaknesses."  This 
must  be  so  for  the  other  reason  that  true  superiority  of  mind  and  morals  does  not 
deem  it  necessary  to  defend  itself  against  the  calumnies  of  jealousy  which  only  death 
shuts  up.  In  short,  an  impartial  verdict  as  to  real  merit  can  only  be  rendered  by 
the  peers  of  great  minds ;  by  the  people  at  large,  not  before  the  issues  of  great  deeds 
and  the  fruits  of  beneficient  reforms  have  become  palpable. 

In  order  to  conceive  whether  the  rage  of  merely  destructive  forces— whether 
conquerors,  who  to  all  appearances  had  to  serve  as  scourges  of  the  nations— were 
really  necessary;  or  in  order  to  discern  whether  such  visitations  always  occurred  at 
the  proper  time:  one  would  have  to  occupy  a  point  of  view  above  the  process  which 
tends  towards  completion.  The  cultus  of  heroes,  of  genius,  of  humanism  are,  after 
all,  but  modes  and  phases  of  the  search  after  that  mind  which  manages  human  affairs 
and  rules  in  history  through  human  instrumentalities.  In  reviewing  the  illustrious 
lives  of  the  renowned,  man  simply  follows  the  impulse  to  see  in  them  his  nobler  self. 
Celebrating  their  memory  and  contemplating  their  virtues  and  merits,  man  rises 
above  the  prosaic  routine  and  trivialities  of  every-day  life,  and  in  them  objectivises 
his  own  views  and  experiences  of  life,  until  the  rays  of  these  lights  and  the  haloes 
around  their  heads  grow  dim  with  the  distance  of  time,  and  new  lights  arise.  These 
mnst  then  again  serve  as  surrogates  for  the  Light  of  Heaven  until  men  begin  to  see 
it  and  to  perceive  "the  finger"  which  makes  use  of  the  earthly  candlesticks. 


The  divine 
guidance 


not  to  be  inspected 
while  at  worli  in  the 
minor  details  of  history. 


Lacordaire. 


Purpose  and  plan  of 
history  partly  immanent 
partly  transcendental. 
f  5,  6,  50-52,  58,  101 
1%,  206. 


Pure  induction  would 
have  had  to  come  to  the 
same  conclusion. 


provided  that  man 

■'Vernunft'' 


CH.  V.    THE  GOVERNMENT  OF  THE  WORLD. 

§  218.  The  finger,  which  once  was  acknowledged  by  certain  Egyptians,  or  as 
we  usually  say,  the  guiding  hand  which  leads  to  combinations  and  disentangles 
complications,  which  upturns  the  tables  of  the  money-mongers  and  speculators  and 
the  boards  of  high  councils  in  clearing  the  way  for  new  seras;  this  finger  cannot  be 
looked  upon  while  at  work  in  the  specialties  and  minor  but  momentous  details  in  the 
general  course  of  universal  history.  It  can  be  looked  for  nowhere  else  than  above  the 
totality  of  events. 

"As  the  master  leads  the  chisel  of  his  apprentice  over  the  marble,"  says  Lacor- 
daire, "so  the  Divine  Master  architect  circumspectly  guides  the  hand  of  mankind, 
and  teaches  man  with  unceasing  care  and  educational  discipline  to  exercise  all  facul- 
ties in  the  work  wherein  he  is  to  cooperate  with  Him." 

Speaking  of  the  purpose  and  then  of  the  plan  of  history  we  inferred,  that  both 
must  underlie,  and  be  implied  in  history;  but  must  partly,  in  a  certain  sense,  also  lie 
above  it.  Since  then  the  plan  and  the  goal  have  been  rendered  intelligible.  Some- 
thing else,  besides,  led  to  postulates  which  found  their  answer  only  when  "the 
Thought",  hidden  in  things,  made  its  appearance  in  person— with  the  entrance  of  the 
Mediator.    In  Him  destiny  and  plan  became  disclosed. 

Had  this  not  been  the  case,  we  would,  by  the  way  of  pure  induction,  still  have 
had  to  arrive  at  the  same  conclusion,  provided  the  single  axiom  is  granted  in  the 
premise,  that  man  as  such  possesses  reason;  i.  e.,  that  form  of  intellect  which  the  Ger- 
mans term  Vernunft.    Materialism  avers  this  faculty  of  intelligence  to  be  the  final 


m.  A.  Ch.  v.  §  218.  PERSONAL  WILL  AND  THOUGHT  IN  HISTORY.  405 

result  of  gradual  civilisation,  analogous  to  the  accomplishments  of  domesticated  ani-  S^'nJilSar'flcuu 
mals.    According  to  Schaeffler,  reason,  or  let  us  rather  say  Vernunft,  the  higher  form  scH*rri.Bl 

of  the  intellect  in  the  human  mind,  "consists  in  the  accumulative  animation  of  man's 
social  life  and  his  capacity  for  acute  apperception  generated  by  the  social  adjustment 
of  labor  sequent  to  cultivation  and  continuity  of  social  intercourse."    This  definition  ?J,tenect  pTior  to  *** 
shows  the  reason  why  we  deem  it  necessary  at  the  present  time  to  sue  for  an  agree-  «'"^ition; 
ment  with  our  axiom,  as  a  common  basis  of  operation.    We  assert  that  man  has 
"Vernunft"  previous  to  any  mode  or  degree  of  erudition. 

By  empirics  alone  man  does  not  obtain  intelligence.     Intellect  (Vernunft)  is  ,t  being  the  prerequuit» 
designed  to  be  developed  by  education,  but  is  not  thus  to  be  acquired,  nor  can  **""  education. 
it  be  implanted  by  any  training  or  hereditary  law.   Being  the  prerequisite  for  educa- 
tion, Vernunft  is  just  the  opposite  of  Schseffler's  product  of  socialistic  evolution. 

We  claim  no  more  than  that  which  up  to  recent  dates  has  ever  been  held  as  self- 
evident.  This  granted  we  need  nothing  else  for  our  inductive  proof  of  the  government 
of  the  world  by  the  Mediator. 

The  conclusiveness  with  which  GcBthe,  from  a  ram's  horn  found  upon  the  sands  near  illustration; 
Venice,  syllogised  the  form  of  the  entire  skeleton,  was  found  in  the  matter  itself.    As  a  mat-   inductive  reasoning  of 
ter  of  fact  the  explorer  reconstructs  from  a  part  of  a  skeleton,  found  among  a  few  other  ante-  Q«ih«, 

diluvian  bones  in  the  interior  of  the  cave,  the  whole  stature  of  the  megatherium. 

In  all  its  workings  reason  follows  this  very  same  method  of  procedure,  to  persist  ,„  ^^ich  method  reason 
in  gaining  an  apperception  of  itself  in  the  state  of  finiteness,  to  recognise  its  own  PppeV'cept"ol*l"f'Kk^ 
significance  in  the  relations  with  its  own  ego,  and  to  construct  out  of  itself  an  Intel-  own*ego  and  to  Ihl** 
ligible  conception  of  the  totality  of  perceptible  and  conceivable  matters  of  which  peJleptAnV' 
the  individual  knows  itself  to  be  a  part.    The  attempts  to  such  construction  cannot  «'«'»««'^^bie  matten: 
but  lead,  with  Platonism,  to  an  unknown  God,  to  an  infinite  personal  mind.    There 
is  no  other  logic  thinkable.    This  position  we  can  not  be  induced  to  surrender.    An 
impersonal  reason  in  history,  can,  therefore,  satisfy  us  no  longer.    "We  are  fully  in 
earnest  in  acknowledging  an  inner  leading  principle,  something  which  mysteriously 
overrules,  overwhelms  the  arbitrariness  of  the  historic  current",  said  H.  Fichte.  ;"But 
this  something  is  no  weird,  transcendental  being,  nothing  which  steals  itself  over  man  in 
order  to  impute  to  him  consequences  of  actions  for  which  he  is  not  responsible.     This 
factor  neither  blindfolds  nor  leads  him  as  by  magic.    On  the  contrary,  that  which 
is  to  be  chosen  is  rendered  evident  in  his  consciousness  with  such  brightness    that  whereby  it  arrives  at 
man  cannot  fail  to  choose  the  right  thing,  unless  he  refuses  to  accept  the  evidence-  unknown"S°*  ^'^ 
It  is  the  actuation  of  ethical  ideas  in  history  which  silently  and  ubiquitously  works  °  *"'™"' 

for  definite  historical  ends;  or  to  speak  in  less  abstract  terms,  it  is  the  willing,  the 
craving  after  the  Good,  deeply  and  indestructibly  implanted  within  us,  which  in 
truth  and  in  the  end  always  comes  out  triumphant,  which  punishes  or  rewards  and 
ever  maintains  its  right  of  final  decision.  Every  act  of  humanity  in  its  general 
work,  politically  or  socially,  is,  as  well  as  the  individual  agent,  subject  to  its  judg- 
ment". 

Were  the  management  of  universal  history  carried  on  according  to  Fichte's  idea  criticism  of  Fichte's 
we  should  have  an  odd  sort  of  government.    This  ethical  volition  evolving  after  the  of  The  wor^"" 
law  of  its  own  reason  would  as  a  self  government  prove  a  failure.    Its  always  coming 
out  victorious  would  happen  under  no  other  but  those  impulses  which  prompt 
nature's  own  nascency.    It  is  plain  how  little  that  victorious  good  will  corresponds 
with  the  real  circumstances.    Just  as  little  does  that  reason,  innate  in  history, 
answer  the  reasonable  postulates  of  the  human  intellect.    For,  this  reason  of  Fichte, 
outrunning  itself  in  the  intricate  details  of  history,  makes  it  quite  inconceivable  fäaToniyo'uteide  of 
how  it  may  outlast  the  conflict  of  intricacies,  without   supposing  that   a   rather  ^l^^^^^'""^^" 
deranged  reason  or  sheer  irrationalness  had  seized  the  reigns  of  government.    The 
essence  of  reason  cannot  be  kept  intact,  if  left  pendent  and  envolved  within  history 
itself.    Safe  it  is  only  as  inherent  in  the  nature  of  the  divine  person  outside  of 
history,  as  the  wisdom  of  the  living  God,  as  His  plan  and  purpose  under  a  system  of 

fixed  laws.  KoVy^aÄ^g^ncies 

Wilhelm  von  Humboldt  declared,  as  Dr.  RochoU  was  recently  informed,  that  '*''^°°**w"?hümbouwi 
"imparted"  laws  as  agencies  of  history  could  not  satisfy  him.    The  trend  of  his  ideas  ^^^  ^^  ^^  „^^^^ 
has  aided  and  corroborated  our  views  more  than  once  before.    His  "free  working  im-  working  impulses". 
pulses"  helped  us  out,  in  the  first  place,  of  a  mechanical  conception  of  history.    In 


4106  DIVINE  DETERMINATION  AND  MAN'S  FREEDOM.        HI  A.  CH.  V.  §  219 

Motion  Implies  direction  that  connectioH  HuHiboldt  demanded  more  than  the  mere  mechanical  laws  of  nature; 

for  wliich  materialism  ' 

^s  g  a^if^^rio^ii  22  ^^^  history  he  demanded  more  than  the  rule  of  physiological  principles  or  laws  of  life 

'23/25/101:  which  only  partly  explain  the  historic  motion,  and  scarcely  half-way  yields  plausible 

reasons   for   periods   of   national  bloom   and  decay,  for  the  symptoms  of  health 

or  disorder.    As  essential  to  an  understanding  of  the  human  world  he  therefore 

To  trace  the  co-troi  over  ^ööiands  more  thau  the  psychological  laws  of  sensibilities  and  passive  reflex-actions 

human  affairs  back  to     qi  the  uerves.    All  of  thcse  laws  are  insuflScient  to  explain  history  without  doing  it 

«n  original  cause  not  r  ^  o 

of  a  transient  nature,  vloleuce.  Humboldt  requlres  the  historian  to  rise  above  the  domain  of  palpable 
events  and  to  begin  the  inquiry  simply  with  a  clear  comprehension  of  motion,  since 
the  cognition  of  direction  in  motion  is  essential  and  cannot  be  accounted  for  by 
those  laws. 

Where,  then,  asks  Humboldt,  is  the  historian  to  take  his  standpoint?  "If  we  do 
centers  hi  a  ^^  ^ot  waut  to  abandon  the  discovery  of  connection  in  the  affairs  of  our  race,  we  are 
E^^onToiu-^"*^  compelled  to  go  back  to  an  original  and  independent  cause  not  of  a  transient^  phe- 
visibie  universe,  nomeual  nature."  Humboldt,  in  short,  wants  an  adequate  cognition  of  the  world's 
government.  "All  knowledge  is,  at  the  last  resort,  attached  to  ideas  which,  if  invest- 
igated as  to  their  lineage  and  reduced  to  their  original  fountain-head,  are  found  to 
Denial  of  the  ceuter  lu  a  personal  mind  beyond  this  world  of  ours."    With  this  postulate  Humboldt 

«elfconscious  power  m.  ^  m. 

«utsideof  history  and  of  pointed  out  that  staudpoiut  outside  of  mechanical,  physical  and  psychical  empiricism. 

Its  interference  with  the    *^  '^  .  .  » x-     ./  jr    ./  ... 

mechanum  of  the  Of  course,  if  ouo  could  be  justified  m  refusing  upon  grounds  of  empiricism  to 
recognise  the  original,  selfconscious  power,  which  in  the  form  of  eternal  existence, 
who  eSnces'  iteew^^*  tho  actlvo  outsldo  the  happenings  of  the  finite  world,  yet  keeps  them  under  its  control: 
«ause!°taTe^  a  hä  ui*  thou  ho  might  be  excusable  in  denying  that  creative  ingenuity  which  is  able  to  over- 
Ks\o5rinTc?nnot  be    Tule  aud  to  Interfere  with  the  mechanism  of  the  universe. 

thanlhSof  thrabsoiute  B^t  sluce,  as  empiricism  even  evinces,  a  higher  thought,  in  the  capacity  of  a 
personality.  cause,  takes  a  hand  in  the  development  of  history,  then,  most  assuredly,  it  can  be  no 

a^sei^conscious  Other  than  that  of  a  personality.  For  this  interference  must  be  preceded  by  a  definite 
and  absolute  will  intent.  This  determination  of  the  mind  can  only  be  thought  of  as  proceeding  from  a 
Sstoricprogress.  Certain  act  of  an  absolute  and  intelligent  will  with  a  certain  object  in  view.  Every 
Problem  •  how  to  experience  and  analogy  indicates,  yea  verifies  the  correctness  and  legitimacy  of  our 
conceive  the  ratiocination.  And  where  would  be  a  deficiency  or  the  least  danger  of  acceding  to 
i-eiJtiSn  of  thfs  the  axiom,  that  a  selfconscious  absolute  will  stands  above  and  regulates  the  connec- 
hiSo"*^  ^^^^  *°  *^^^  ^^  *^®  developing  process  of  history  otherwise  inexplicable? 

§  219.  Another  problem,  however,  is  opened  by  the  question  how  this  personal 
humanuy°n"*under  absolute  mlud  Is  to  be  coucelved  in  its  inframundane  relation  to  history?  The  devel- 
nec^'s^ity,"u^der''iaws  of  opmeut  of  humaulsm— whlch  history  serves  to  envelop  as  much  as  it  serves  to  reveal 

its  own  IM. 

it,  is  not  subject  to  necessity  which  conditions  the  development  of  nature.    The  his- 

ethica?  necessity    ^^^^^  process  transpires,  under  the  necessities  at  variance  with  those  which  nature 

»d  has  to  obey,  that  is,  under  conditions  of  its  own,  which  are  ethical.    Of  course,  as  far 

coincide  and  are   as  the  externals  of  history  are  concerned,  these  ethical  necessities  coincide  with  the 

congruent.  jg^^g  ^^^j.  j.^iij^g  ^he  natural  and  temporal  life  of  man. 

Limits  of  natural  But  as  far  as  man  is  pre-eminently  a  spiritual  being,  the  nature  of  which  spirit- 
seifdevefopment,  ual  part  isuulty,  and  hence  the  same  in  every  human  being  and  ever  true  to  itself— so 
§  20, 54.  f ^p  jg  ^jjg  historic  development  exempt  from  natural  necessity.  In  the  latter  sphere  the 
pÄiig  to'^'^'^sentiai  ^thlcal  law  rules  supreme,  a  law  not  at  all  opposed  to,  but  even  embracing  the 
A'ainlcessltT^'Te.  ^^^s  whlch  reasou  construes  from  the  natural  phenomena.  The  laws  of  the  in- 
law, of  the  inner  »f«  ner  life  can  be  less  adequately  formulated  into  paragraphs  than  those  of  nature, 
fiÜ!J^"'ibut^'t^'"**'''*'  ^^^^®  man's  being  is  of  unfathomable  depth  with  a  marvelous  mass  of  interrelations. 
calculated.  The  most  circumspect  calculations  of  a  probable  course  of  history  are,  therefore, 

*'Free  will"  thrown  out  of  gear  by  intervening  events  which  arise  in  the  obscurity  of  human  na- 

i)ivine  rule.  ture.    Now  wild  passions  tear  asunder  the  threads  spread  upon  the  loom  of  regular 

§  10, 11,  arrangements;  then  again  the  noble  thoughts  of  men  of  genius  cause  unexpected 

thSoTy"'  ''**"*'°'' '"  *  *^^^^  ^^  ^^®  affairs  of  the  world. 

an  untenable  Thls  Icads  US  ouco  more  to  consider  the  much  argued  doctrine  of  "free  will." 

contradiction.  °  •       •  o 

It  has  been  stated  that  will  was  not  free  to  choose:  that  the  ideas,  claiming  iree- 

reiation  be*tweÄivine  dom  of  voUtlon  aud  at  the  same  time  to  found  this  volition  upon  inciting  motives 

Iwdom"*'**'"^  *"""*'*    which  influence  the  choice,  form  an  untenable  contradiction.    Here  it  is  that  the 

view  upon  the  relation  between  Divine  Providence  and  human  freedom   became 


in  A.  Ch.  v.  §  219.  INTERACTION  OF  PROVIDENCE.  407 

vitiated  in  the  premises.    Willing  and  choosing  are  theoretically  detached  from  man  EntmÄThe*^ 
—from  finite  and  dependent  man,  of  whose  mind  the  will  is  but  one  of  the  means  of  *\'*"'=Vi"^  ^^^^ 

'  detached  from  man, 

expression,— and  then  are  made  one  abstract  thing.    Such  a  construction  of  abstract 

....  ,,,  ,  ,.,  ,.j,,..,  .„  made  a  foundation  for 

volition  no  one  really  demands,  except  those  who  intend  to  build  upon  it  a  false  a  false  system  of  ethics. 
system  of  ethics. 

We  are  bold  to  demand  and  to  maintain  freedom,  by  virtue  of  which  we  are  not  no  mechanical 
chained  to  motives  or  methods  of  external  influences  from  an  abstract  theoretical  de-  <*«*«'^™''i'«'"- 
terminism.  We  state  quite  the  opposite,  namely  that  we  often  determine  ourselves 
in  the  pursuit  of,  and  contest  for,  higher  interests  of  an  ethical  nature.  The  govern- 
ment of  the  world  is  not  achieved  in  violation  of  freedom,  but  by  means  of  it.  "If 
providence,"  says  'Vico,  "is  the  architect  of  nations,  the  judiciousness  of  men  is  the 
foreman  of  the  builders." 

With  this  conception  the  insight  is  gained,  that  we  must  not  misconstrue  the  im-  immutability  of 
mutability  of  God.    In  the  inner  life  of  the  divine  nature  we  must  not  imagine  a  con-  m?äonstrued  as 
dition  of  inflexible  constraint,  but  as  regards  the  execution  of  purpose  and  plans  we  i"  deism, 
are  compelled  to  attribute  to  God  the  freedom  of  changing  His  attitude  toward  the  Changeability  of 
creature.  Of  this  we  are  convinced  because  He  is  the  living  God  of  a  single,  a  unique  umard  manf  ^ 
not  a  simple  nature.    Hence  we  may  say  with  Lotze:  "Any  view  acknowledging  a  o^^ofanni  uebntnot 
life  of  God  which  does  not  stiffen  into  perpetual  identity,  will  be  able  to  conceive,  a  simple  nature. 
His  eternal  interaction  as  a  mutable  coefiicient  or  paracleitos.    One  may  see  how,  Divine  interaction, 
at  certain  movements,  this  mode  of  cooperation  and  adaptation  is  rendered  conspicu- 
ous by  its  modifying  effects,  and  how  it  thus  testifies  to  the  incompleteness  of  the 
natural  course  of  things."    Here,  after  all,  the  circle-bound  speculations  are  blasted;  *^^J^^«f^^  *^« 
philosophy  has  found  the  right  track  for  a  new  start  in  solving  the  problem  of  har-  natural  course^of  things. 
monising  Divine  Providence  and  human  freedom.    Dorner  and  Martensen  agree  with 
Lotze  in  their  disquisitions  on  determinism  and  indeterminism. 

The  incompleteness  of  the  natural  course  of  things  "is  witness  to  the  interaction  noIfo^LTaTiingbut**"* 
of  Providence,"  of  the  living  God.    But  as  the  natural  world  is  an  open  system,  not  at  Inter/irelcT'''***"'*''^ 
all  forestalling  but  requiring  providential  interference,  much  more  is  the  world  of 
history  a  system  prearranged  to  give  room  to  Divine  interference  and  bent  on  com- 
pleting its  rounds  under  it. 

It  will  become  apparent  how  the  system  is  perfected. 

Admitting  that  so  far  we  have  not  surpassed  the  deistic  conception,  an  objection  gr^o'^unds" of  deism  that 
might  be  raised  from  the  other  side  of  the  house,  which  we  may  as  well  meet  right  here,  churcrcraim^  t"^  have 
We  are  accosted  by  the  argument,  that  if  individual  happiness  and  the  basis  of  social  öccuit'^^'  '*  °*"''"'  ^ 
order,  and  the  guaranty  of  its  preservation  were  given  solely  in  that  revelation  which 
the  church  claims  to  have  in  charge:  then  this  revelation  ought  of  necessity  not  to  have  Revelation  of  reason 
been  enveloped  in  hulls  and  shrouds.    It  should  have  been  projected  in  a  palpable  have^Sn'^'Sgnlto'^ 
awe-inspiring  majesty,  so  that  doubt  could  not  have  been  able  to  bring  forth  probabil- 
ities for  denying  it,  and  denial  would  have  been  made  impossible  once  and  forever. 

We  are  further  told  that  if  the  cardinal  center  of  this  revelation  were  the  eternal  reason  if  scepticism  were 
of  the  world,  then  this  would  have  had  to  appear  as  the  Lord  and  King  and  Shepherd  of  the  P'^^vented 
nations,  and  to  occupy  its  throne  in  open  view  of  everybody.    Then  every  possibility  of  vexa- 
tious scepticism  would  have  been  prevented. 

Yes,  and  then  all  freedom  would  have  been  set  aside,  too.  been  imiiTfi^d*    *^Ka»t, 

Long  ago,  Kant  gave  the  necessary  rejoinder.    "Then,"  he  said,  "most  of  the  legalistic 
actions  would  be  performed  under  compulsion  of  fear,  a  few  from  hope,  but   none  at  all 
for  the  sake  of  duty.    A  moral  value  of  deeds,  upon  which  alone,  in  the  eyes  of  the  world  There  would  be  no 
andof  Supreme  Wisdom,the  value  of  the  person  doing  them  depends,  would  not  exist  at  all^  ™Tn  persons  dofng' 
So  long  as  the  nature  of  man  remains  what  it  is,  man's  conduct  would  also  remain  the  same    tii«'""  duty, 
that  is  it  would  be  merely  mechanical".    This  means,  we  would  have  no  freedom.    There 
would  be  no  history.    For  history  is  the  guide  to  liberty.    The  unhidden  glory  and  majesty 
would  have  suppressed  all  opposition ;  but  it  would  also  have  arrested  the  process  of  develop- 
ment before  the  world  had  attained  to  its  state  of  maturity.    As  it  is,  the  possibility  must  have 
been  given  to  take  offence  at  the  mystery  of  Holiness  and  Love;  to  fall  over  "a  stumbling- 
stone  and  rock  of  offence" ;  to  become  confused  by  the  great  paradox  which  consists  in  the 
peculiar  mode  and  form  of  this  revelation,  and  is  set  up  in  the  midst  of  the  world  as  an 
incitement  to  exercise  the  mental  and  moral  incipiencies  with  which  man  is  endowed.    The 
possibility  must  be  given  to  man   to  put   himself   into  relation   with  revelation  without  and  no  history  guiding 
compulsion ;  the  possibility  must  remain  even  to  go  to  perdition.  o*»  *o  "berty. 


408 

Beasons  for  a 
veiled  method  of 
revelation. 


PosslbiHtJes  left  open 
for  the  exercise  of 
freedom. 


Supreme  Will  works 
under  a  system  of  self- 
limitation 


instead  of  annihilaling 
the  freedom  of  the 
finite  will. 


Providential 
arrangements  of  small 
matters  are  important 
as  to  migratory 
movements. 


Providence 

overruling  colonisations ; 


turning  oppression  and 
defeat  to  happy  ends. 


Nations  disposed  of  in 
furtherance  of  dynastic 
interests. 


Guidance  to  new 
ethnical  constellations. 


Nations  nnder  proper 
polarity  generate  new 
forces,  if  they 
amalgamate. 


Benefleial  results  from 
mi';rationa  and  merging 
of  nations. 


"Products  of 
degeneracy". 


PROVIDENCE  OVERRULING  ETHNICAL  COMMOTIONS.         HI  A.  Ch.  V.  §  220, 

The  will  of  God  is  effectuated  in  the  course  of  things,  because  this  will  is  the  ideal 
aim  of  all  occurrences,  and  is  to  be  worked  out  through  man  under  condition  of  his 
relative  (not  absolute)  freedom.  The  Supreme  Will,  then,  works  under  a  system  of 
limitation.  It  carries  out  its  intentions  in  the  play  of  interchanging  influences  of 
mind  upon  mind,  in  overcoming  impediments  through  neutralising  counteractions, 
upon  ways  hidden  or  round-about.  It  effectuates  itself  under  an  exercise  of  long- 
suffering,  through  procrastination  and  retrogressive  steps,  even  in  instances 
where  retrogression  appears  to  be  a  defeat  of  the  purpose.  Since  not  all  which  is 
real  is  at  the  same  time  rational,  it  follows  not  only  that  irrational  facts  must  be 
possible,  but  also  that  it  must  be  possible  to  make  them  subservient  to  the  final  real- 
isation of  the  rational.  And  all  of  this  ensues,  because  the  Absolute  Will  takes  the 
liberty  to  choose  selflimitation  instead  of  restricting  the  freedom  of  the  finite  will, 
This  truth  ventilates  many  questions.  But  even  at  this  instant  of  our  investiga- 
tion, without  having  risen  as  yet  above  the  standpoint  of  deism— answers  are  coming 
forth. 

§  220.  There  is  a  trace  of  providential  traction,  manifest  in  the  desire  for 
expansion  seizing  the  nations  from  time  to  time,  which  is  not  explicable  simply  by  a 
superabundance  of  cultural  embarrassment  necessitating  an  overflow. 

At  the  period  of  the  great  migration  in  Europe,  in  the  steps  taken  by  the  Spaniards  and 
the  Portuguese  in  matters  of  colonisation  at  the  close  of  the  Middle- Ages,  we  plainly  see 
the  providential  arrangement ;  and  we  clearly  notice  a  ruling  hand  in  the  order  in  which, 
since  the  time  of  the  water-beggars,  the  European  nations  have  spread  themselves  abroad. 
Oppression  and  defeat  were  turned  to  most  happy  ends.  It  is  marvelous  how  the  circum- 
stances on  those  occasions,  served  in  lifting  the  whole  race  upon  the  tracks  of  accelerated 
advancement. 

Here  virgin  soil  is  broken,  and  new  countries  dotted  with  settlements ;  there  people 
overripe  with  culture  as  in  Tunis,  .ZBgypt,  Persia,  and  Japan,  are  stimulated  afresh.  Not  so 
easy  is  it,  however,  to  comprehend  why  entire  peoples,  torn  away  from  their  old  ethnical 
connections,  by  arbitrary  star-chamber  proceedings,  were  hitched  to  alien  nations. 
Charles  V  gives  the  Low-Countries  to  his  son  Philip ;  then  blood  is  made  to  flow  in  rivers  in 
order  to  dissolve  the  unnatural  union  which  was  not  thus  to  be  forced.  What  a  clamor 
has  been  raised  over  the  partition  of  Poland ;  what  an  amount  of  injustice  has  been  done  in 
order  first  to  form  "United  Kingdoms",  and  then  to  regain  home-rule,  as  in  the  cases  of 
Hungary  and  Ireland. 

Yet  in  all  these  seeming  anomalies  deep  plans  are  discernible. 

We  are  shown  up  into  council  halls  higher  than  those  where  the  imperious  wills 
of  cabinets  dispose  of  the  weal  and  woe  of  nations;  into  the  sphere  from  whence  the 
Supreme  Will  guides  the  wisdom,  or  utilises  the  folly  of,  Prime-Ministers. 

Explanations  of  such  disposals  of  people,  on  grounds  of  natural  science,  may  be 
precise  and  may  seem  sufficient  to  the  analytic  interpreter— in  order  to  understand  the 
fact,  for  instance,  that  the  Ugro-Tatarian  element  was  drawn  to  the  neighborhood  of 
the  Germans,  or  that  tribes  like  the  old  Prussian  were  welded  together  with  other 
nations  only  to  wrangle  with  them;  in  order  to  further  dynastic  interests.  Examin- 
ing such  plain  facts  a  little  closer,  however,  and  taking  again  correlative  bearings 
into  considerations  of  a  wider  range,  then  causes  and  effects  demonstrate  the  deeper 
intention  which  disposed  of  such  people  for  cultural  and  ethical  ends.  For  we  find 
that  whenever  people,  standing  in  the  relations  of  a  corresponding  polarity  to  one  an- 
other, are  thus  joined  together,  a  new  force  develops  from  just  such  a  tension.  That 
force  will  prove  more  effective  than  the  forces  working  in  the  nations  each  by  itself, 
which  forces  by  the  way  of  the  combination  will  generate  a  new  power  superseding 
the  former,  and  causing  the  amalgamated  nation  to  take  a  new  departure  in  prosper- 
ity and  prolificacy.  This  process  is  analogous  to  the  genesis  of  individual  life,  where 
the  offspring  is  of  the  more  distinct  quality  and  the  less  indifferent  or  common-place, 
the  more  marked  the  parental  polarity.  This  single  empirical  fact  throws  sufficient 
light  upon  the  higher  guidance  rendered  obvious  in  the  migrations  and  mergings  of 
people. 

Among  the  multitude  of  ethnical  concomitants  we  found  here  "products  of 
degeneracy",  and  there  a  humus  on  top  of  the  substratum  formed  by  decaying  masses. 
Now  we  find  the  key  to  unlock  the  secret  of  such  deteriorations.  We  have  become 
aware  of  the  hand  which  has  something  to  do  with  ethnical  inundations  and  subju- 
gations.   The  dark   substratum  beneath  this  thin  crust  of  cultural  layer  almost 


in  A.  Ch.  v.*  §  220.       world's  government  includes  "day  of  judgment."  40» 

everywhere,  was  a  standing  conundrum.    It  remained  an  unsolved  riddle,  that  the  iSfAASuif** 
compressed  strata  of  aboriginal  tribes,  after  they  had  been  covered  by  the  new  vege   ^omSetery  Msimiuted 
tation  of  cultivated  and  victorious  nations,  never  became  completely  assimilated.  ^^  ^''^h«»-  ««i»««-« 
This  material,  massive  and  marly,  will  never  decompose.    Neither  is  the  humus,  to 
continue  the  metaphor  by  which  we  designed  the  prevailing  parties,  ever  absorbed  whilst  nation»  of  higher 
by  the  crops  of  culture  it  yielded.    The  this  humus  may  be  "farmed  out"  in  a  man-  Sfd^own  totheuvei 
ner  forfeiting  the  name  of  cultivation,  yet  in  quantity  it  does  not  diminish.    The  »' »»»«i»^«  **'»**• 
humus  remains  even  under  such  circumstances,  only  that,  in  point  of  quality  it  be- 
comes similar  to  the  substratum.    Not  only  does  the  humus  not  diminish,  but  it  ^^fi^*/*7*^/'*3*,!fJ* 
rather  increases  by  the  matter  grown  and  decaying  upon  it.    It  was  a  great  chemist  of  th^irruperiow, 
who  contended  many  years  for  establishing  the  truth  which  we  here  are  free  to 
apply  in  the  cultivation  of  applied  ethnology.  For  we  found  that  in  almost  every  case  ^„^  are  benefitted  even 
the  subjugated  strata  of  the  social  compound  were  always  capable  of  being  influ-  J^bSgE"'*' "' 
enced  by  the  peculiar  qualities  of  the  ethnical  layer  spreading  out  over  them,  and 
were  benefited  by  the  cultural  growth  springing  up  above  and  clothing  them  with 
verdure.    They  became  incited  to  participate  in  the  activity  of  their  superiors  and  to 
enure  themselves  to  the  influences  of  their  cultural  work  whereby  they  became  ele- 
vated.   In  most  of  these  cases  the  vanquished  people  derived  the  greatest  benefit 
from  the  pressure  occasioned  by  the  subjugation. 

Never  was  any  of  the  ethnical  strata,  or  of  the  commotion  going  on  about  them,  as  uttie  as  in  nature  i« 
entirely  void  of  the  purpose;  for  never,  neither  in  nature  nor  in  history,  is  there  any  ShrstoT/."'^*'''"*'"'* 
thing  lost.    It  is  a  weighty  sentence  which  George  Foster  formulated  long  ago:  "In  Kl^onstuuS***'* 
any  system  where  everything  moves  under  mutual  attraction  nothing  can  be  annihi-  'J^t^m  of^mutuli'''  * 
lated;  the  quantity  of  the  constituent  elements  ever  remains  the  same."  attraction,     g.  fos«b. 

Since  that  discovery  the  axiom  of  the  preservation  of  forces  has  received  the 
right  of  citisenship  in  the  realm  of  natural  science,  and  Helmholtz  has  written  out  '"^^''^"^'''''uiS^n^^ 
the  diploma.    It  only  remains  that  the  science  of  history  also  should  recognise  as  an 
axiom:  the  indestructibility  of  cultural  effects.    This  ought  to  be  raised  to  the  dig- 
nity of  a  cardinal  dogma  in  histories.    It  should  be  acknowledged  that  the  preserva- 
tion of  the  total  amount,  the  sum  and  substance  of  rational  products  yielded,  as  well-  o?  c^ituraYeffects 
as  the  preservation  of  each  individual  energy  and  its  agent,  is  guaranteed  by  the  *  historic  ^gO^*»!- 
ordinances  and  arrangements  of  the  Manager  on  high.    For  everything  transpiring 
is  included  in  the  plan  of  final  consummation,  and  everybody  is  concerned  in  the 
realisation  of  all  purposes;  hence,  every  thing,  every  person,  every  fact,  will  come  to  Everything  is  included 
be  unveiled  in  its  ethical  bearings.   For  above  all  does  the  unfurling  of  the  moral  ions^um^mTtion- *^ 
standard  belong  to  the  Executive  of  the  Government,  which  takes  care  that  whatever  the7eÄ«onf"the'° 
was  in  harmony  with  the  purpose,  or  what  attempts  had  been  made  to  foil  it,  must  p"^p<>se- 
come  to  be  publicly  and  universally  known.    It  must  become  known  that  no  willful  The  day  of 
arbitrariness  can  escape  from  justice  which  maintains  the  equipoise  between  the  p^ef  ™1Siveof  the 
effects  of  man's  acts  and  deeds.    Hence  the  reverse  side  of  the  fatherly  government  executive  of  the 
of  love,  and  the  prerogative  of  the  world's  government  are:  administration  of  justice,  government, 
retribution— a  day  of  judgment. 

Let  us  take  a  glance  at  the  interior  of  our  hospitals.    Imme«liately  the    impression  punishments  under  the 
will  overwhelm  us  that  if  there  were  no  God,  nature  at  least  would  punish  disobedience  to  its  laws  of  nature. 
laws  upon  whomsoever  made  himself  liable.    Here  we  perceive  the  inexorable  execution  of  a 
judgment  given  by  a  court  in  permanent  session.    The  subdued  demeanor  of  the  culprits  who 
have  indulged  in  dissipation  make  the  sombre,  silent  verdicts  clearly  legible.    As  nature  deals 
out  retribution  for  every  form  of  excess,  so  every    case  of  neglect  is  punished.    Faculties  not 
exercised  will  be  crippled;  of  opportunities  to  improve  them  we  shall  become  deprived  if  we  (Faculties  not  exercised), 
repeatedly  sligrht  them.    The  eye  of  the  cave-salamander  becomes  as  a  rudimentary  organ,  it 
dries  up.    The  visionary  power  of  the  soul,  the  sense  for  things  eternal  must  of  necessity 
become  stunted,  if  not  made  use  of  and  improved. 

How  the  abuse  of  the  relations  between  man  and  the  earth  avengres  itself,  is  shown  not 
only  by  the  condition  of  the  countries  where  the  ancient  nations  of  culture  disregarded  that 
solidarity— tho  recognising  it  very  well  in  certain  other  respects.  Reckless  draining  upon  the  (Destruction  of  foreits^. 
sources  of  natural  wealth  is  carried  on  to  the  serious  detriment  of  posterity  even  in  the  most 
civilised  nations  of  modern  times.  By  the  criminal  destruction  of  forests,  the  mountains  are 
made  bald  and  barren,  rivers  are  rendered  shallow  and  made  channels  of  periodical  destruc- 
tion, so  that  meadows  become  deserts.  Such  outrages  committed  upon  nature  have  laid 
waste  many  regions  of  oriental  culture,  have  rendered  the  country  of  Homer's  time  and  the 
physiognomy  of  the  "Promised  Land"  irrecognisable.    They  have  created  the  "Sahara  of  the 


410 

If  man  turns  nature's 
blessings  into  curses, 


Qod  is  expected,  for 
reasons  of  personal  life, 
to  render  final 
judgment. 


Postulate;  God  is  to 
uphold  the  right  by 
declaring  sentence 
against  the  wrong. 


Judgment  not  mere 
balancing  of  lawa. 


Point  of  view 
above  the 
deistical.    God 
presides  in  person 
at  the  world's 
constitutional 
government. 

God's  pleasure  to 
limit  himself  in 
order  to  interfere 
with,  and  enter 
into,  the  finite 
form  of  existence. 

God's 
condescension 

§  92, 101-104. 

not  to  be 
understood  by 
way  of  thinking 
alone. 

Recapitulation : 

Issue  of  history 
incalculable.    Schellino. 

A  few  more  dilemmas  of 
thought  as  to  divine 
government, 

originating  from  the 
complication  of  human 
affairs  with 

the  Bad, 


which  modifies  matters 
8  20,  40,  41,  110. 


The  Ignoring  of  which 
leads  to  the  disavowal 
of  the  revealed,  and 
substitution  of  an 
"unknowable"  God, 

who  Is  pressed  Into 
service  for  arguments 
sake. 


DIVINE  INTEBVENTIONS  BY  WAY  OF  CONDESCENSION.    Ill  A.  Ch.  V.  §  221. 

Provence".  In  California,  goldwashing  was  stopped  by  legislation  in  districts  where  fruitful 
valleys  had  been  made  inarable ;  the  Volga  low-lands  are  deluged  by  the  sand  washed  down 
from  mountains  deprived  of  their  vegetation.  Thus  nature  takes  her  revenge  if  men  turn 
her  blessings  into  curses.  By  such  object  lessons  nature  imparts  her  teachings,  but  the 
teacher  stands  beyond  her— it  is  He  who  speaks. 

For  therein  consists  the  object  of  the  education  ot  the  children  of  men  under  di- 
vine guidance,  that  in  the  development  of  humanity  a  person,  working  at  the  appara- 
tus of  the  environments,  which  are  also  in  the  hands  of  God,  is  taken  out  from  the 
general  life  of  the  genus  and  lifted  above  the  state  of  mere  natural  existence.  Per- 
sonal life  is  to  be  led  up  to  self-consciousness  and  selfdecision.  For  this  reason  God 
must  have  the  final  word.  The  passive,  natural  condition  of  the  individual  does  not 
postulate  special  verdicts  of  God. 

This  condition  only  appeals  to  sympathy  and  is  not  an  object  of  special  chastise- 
ment. But  the  guilt  contracted  in  the  state  of  personal  life  begets  the  expectation 
and  postulates  that  God  should  speak.  The  more  developed  aud  intricate  the  con- 
cerns of  personal  life  become,  the  more  it  becomes  necessary  that  God  should  uphold 
the  right  by  declaring  sentence  against  the  wrong. 

Judgment  then,  involves  more  than  that  which  is  expressed  in  the  phrase  that 
"universal  history  executes  the  judgment  of  the  world."  People  considering  judgment 
to  be  no  more  than  the  balancing  of  laws— as  the  meaning  of  that  sentence  is  un- 
derstood— declare  themselves  to  be  satisfied  with  reducing  this  "balancing"  to  the  law 
of  "natural  selection",  whilst  we  are  concerned  with  that  judgment  rendered  upon  the 
rational  and  moral  conduct  of  men,iü  which  personal  relations  are  uncovered  and  made 
public.  We  are  concerned  with  that  judgment  which  holds  the  heedless  or  reckless 
person  responsible,  and  condemns  it  to  face  the  consequences  of  the  fundamental, 
impartial,  and  unalterable  principles  of  justice,  as  administered  throughout  the  con- 
stitutional government  of  the  whole  realm  presided  over  by  God  in  person. 

For,  above  all  there  is  a  point  of  view  of  the  government  of  the  world  higher  than 
the  deistical,  upon  which  we  have  thus  far  remained  for  the  sake  of  argument.  Since 
it  is  desirable  that  we  should  confide  in  the  wisdom  and  love  of  the  Divine  Government 
with  its  mysterious  ways  and  rulings,  to  trust  even  despite  its  permitting  evil,  and  if 
we  would  learn  to  adore  the  self-inanition  of  the  deity  whereby  God  deigned  to  enter 
into  our  finite  form  of  existence:  then  we  ought  to  ascend  to  that  view  of  the  truth, 
from  which  it  is  conceivable  that  God  can  and  does  limit  Himself.  To  this  position, 
however,  we  cannot  rise  by  way  of  reasoning  alone.  The  intellect  does  not  constitute 
all  of  man's  being  anyway,  much  less  at  this  new  step  where  man  in  his  entirety  and 
inner  essence  is  to  stand  forth  in  muster. 

The  conditions  of  and  reasons  for,  a  more  adequate  cognition  in  the  matter  of  divine 
self-inanition  have  been  stated  previously. 

§  221.  We  may  therefore  now  recapitulate  the  results  of  our  inquiry.  In  one 
respect  we  perceive  a  state  of  affairs  in  which  history  seems  to  be  abandoned  to  will- 
ful arbitrariness.  The  issue  of  history  is  incalculable.  For,  as  Schelling  puts  it, 
"that  which  may  be  figured  out,  a  priori,  is  not  the  object  of  history;  and  vice  versa, 
what  is  to  be  taken  for  its  object  must  not  be  calculable  before  hand."  According  to 
this  paitially  true  statement  we  are  challenged,  it  appears,  to  surrender  everything 
which  purports  to  be  in  accord  with  a  rational  plan  and  purpose. 

The  wording  of  this  opinion  might  be  construed  to  imply  that  all  of  this  plan  and 
purpose  was  doomed  to  subside  in  the  turmoil  of  subjectivistic  liberty.  Is  there  no  sur- 
mise as  to  the  source  of  the  confusion  which  would  point  to  the  discovery?  Yea,  still 
more  confounding  is  it  that,with  reference  to  the  subject  under  discussion,other  riddles 
present  themselves  which  seem  as  if  they  could  not  be  solved  in  the  present  condition 
of  our  intellectual  powers,  and  the  solution  of  which  could  not  be  hoped  for  even  from 
any  future  state.  From  the  deistic  standpoint  we  are  unable  to  understand  these  riddes 
for  the  simple  reason  that  they  originate  in  the  complication  of  human  affairs  with  the 
Bad,  which  indeed  exists.  The  Bad  is  a  mystery,  and  becomes  the  more  mystifying  in 
proportion  as  men  are  determined  to  ignore  or  to  disregard  it. 

In  the  last  resort  this  attitude  towards  the  problem  brings  man  into  the  dilemma 
of  disavowing  the  revealed,  and  to  substitute  an  unknowable  God,  a  God  only  to  be  ac- 
cepted as  a  proposition  necessary  to  that  process  of  thinking  which  cannot  arrive  at 


m  A.  CH.  v.  §  221.  THE  CHURCH  VISIBLE  AND  INYISIBLE.  411 

desirable  conclusions,  unless  the  God-idea  be  pressed  into  service  as  a  mere  argument-  The  Gcd  of  deism 
ative  proof.    Under  this  aspect,  then,  as  a  matter  of  course,  the  hypothetical  God-idea  ?ombinhJg  frue 
is  wrought  accordingly.    The  consequence  is,  that  man  cannot  be  blamed  for  with-  wrong^"*^  '*"*^ 
holding  his  confidence  from  such  a  modifiable  God,  tho  even  so  highly  honored  as  to  understanding, 
receive  the  attribute  of  "higher  being",  or  of  being  the  most  sublime  idea— and 
nothing  more:  being  but  an  empty  generalisation,  the  makeshift  of  human  reason  in 
its  attempt  to  reduce  wrong  understanding  and  true  sentiment  to  a  synthesis. 

A  less  confused  picture  of  history  will  become  visible,  and  its  more  satisfactory  The  ''•God-idea" 
understanding  is  obtainable  upon  no  other  than  that  stage  of  philosophy  which  re-  rea? contents^* 
quires  the  empty  form  of  the  postulated  God-idea,  the  unknown  God,  to  be  filled  with 
real  contents. 

This  is  the  case  in  the  Christian  God-consciousness.    Revelation  imparts  to  as  in  the 
thought  the  essence  of  fullness.    Here  the  mind  is  relieved  of  the  oppressive  feeling  cousciitSS^.' 
caused  by  the  erroneous  apperception  that  the  death  of  millions  was  a  necessity  for  ^^^  ^^ce^isity  to  form 
the  purpose  of  serving  the  ambition  of  a  single  individual,  as  the  stepping-stone  to  '"'»'^y  conclusion«, 
his  greatness. 

There  is  no  longer  any  necessity  for  generations  to  perish  in  order  to  raise  a  christian  cognition 
higher  ethical  life  upon  fields  of  ruins;  no  longer  the  necessity  for  the  erroneous  con- 
ception of  the  Good  being  the  product  or  reverse  side  of  the  Bad.    For  in  that  Chris- 
tian cognition  alone  the  thought  of  freedom  prevails  over  those  necessities  which  cry 
to  Heaven  for  a  solution. 

This  freedom  is  preserved  and  in  safe  keeping  nowhere  but  in  an  invisible  Freedom  in  safe  keeping 
higher  organism  which  gradually  pervades  that  expanding  visible  organism  of  hu-  oSni'sm^rSTnto 
manity,  which  is  to  cover  the  length  and  breadth  of  the  earth's  surface.   Throughout  Irue'^SLiHy!'''""  **' 
the  whole  extent  there  are  spreading  out  like  threads  in  horizontal  lines  the  billions  interrelations  of 
of  interrelations,  binding  together  all  nations,  and  hence  indirectly,  but  not  less  firmly,  this  visible 
all  individuals  as  the  many  members  of  the  one  organism.    This  natural  bond  of  hu-  as  binding  ^"^® 
manity  is  thrown  out  like  a  net  into  the  water  with  the  connections  out  of  sigTit,  so  horSontaiiT^"^ 
that  frequently  the  identity  of  the  parts  with  the  whole  is  rendered  irrecognisable.  , 

o  •    jhe  invisible  organism 

Within  this  visible  organism,  broadcast  over  the  globe,  an  invisible  organism,  MTdfato/il'to^pwvade 
centering  in  the  Mediator,  is  to  ramify  and  is  to  pervade  and  permeate  and  penetrate  SgaS'!'^'''*''**""^ 
the  former  natural  organism  everywhere.    The  ways  and  relations  radiating  from  Connect' 
this  center  and  acting  as  threads  which  lead  back  to  it,  connecting  and  binding  each  bin^d^iner^"^*'^ 
member  of   the  spiritual  organism  with  the  center,  enter  from  above,  vertically  iigSre^iS*threads 
into  the  horizontal  fabric  of  earthly  history.    Thus  a  new  and  higher  organism  issuing  from  the 
is  assuming  shape  under  this  process  of  pervasion.    The  threads  of  relationship  with  spiritual  sphere, 
the  center  run  to  it  from  all  directions  of  the  compass  of  conscious  activity.       Every  horTzoStaf fabric 
man  born  into  this  world  partakes,  by  virtue  of  the  spiritual  part  of  human  nature^  9^  earthly  history 
of  the  light  emanating  from  the  Head  and  universal  Center  of  humanity.    Every  one 
is  addressed  as  a  personal  being  by  a  call  setting  free  his  selfhood.    According  to  the  caiit^ointhehSier  * 
eternal  plan  to  be  realised  through  free  agents,  every  man  is  called  to  freedom  by  his  S  h'umj^'S^."'^^"'"""' 
participation  in  the  light  shining  upon  all. 

It  would  be  folly  to  begin  with  enumerating  the  opportunities  offered  to  each,  individu-  ending  and'carfytng  **' 

ally,  for  entering  into  and  carrying  on  the  mysterious  relations  with  Him  by  Whom  each  is  °Vi^®  mysterious 
created,  and  for  the  communion  with  Whom  each  one  was  destined.    Such  enumeration  is 

almost  impossible,  especially  since  from  the  observation  of  others  these  relations  are  with-  Occurrences  in  the 

_,  ,  „  ,   ,.  .    ,  „  ,  n  ■.  sphere  of  "unreflected 

drawn.    For  they  occur  chiefly  in  that  domain  of  psychical  life  which  we  call    unreflected  (or  (or  sub-)  consciousness. 

sub-)  consciousness",  which  is  hidden  from  reflecting  reason.    We  only  insist  upon  the  fact,  §  8,  lo,  37, 112,  H3. 

that  from  this  depth  we  receive  impulses  and  impressions  of  which  we  become  conscious  and 

upon  which  we  can  meditate.    We  lay  some  stress  upon  this  empirical  fact  because  it  affords 

a  key  to  unlock  other  phenomena  of  equal  bearing.  By  the  spiritual 

kingdom  as  built  into 

Enabled  to  form  the  apperception  of  an  invisible  kingdom  built  into  the  frame-  the  framework  of  the 

'^  mental  cosmos,  the 

work  of  the  empiric  mental  cosmos,  we  discern  that  a  unification  of  the  visible  unification  of  the 

invisible  with  the 

With  the  invisible  is  rendered  feasible  indeed.  The  rearing  of  the  spiritual  kingdom  visible  is  reserved, 
is  designed  to  include  the  whole  of  humanity  in  the  broadest  sense.    The  means  of  its  The  means  of 
construction  are  as  veiled  as  the  results  of  edification  remain  internaL    It  is  quite  as  veüed  as  the '^^ 
suflScient  to  know  that  the  gain  for  humanity  consists  in  an  organisation  which  results  remain 
holds  it  together  in  its  spiritual  consanguinity.    A  sphere  is  given  in  which  it  is 
29 


412 


Privileges  pbtainsble 
through  the  means  of 
grace  in  the  church. 


The  three  inter- 
cohesive 
sphereoid, 
natural  viniverse, 
human  world, 
Kingdom  of 
Heaven  upon 
earth. 


The  confidential 
relations  between 
■inner  and  Savior. 


KINGDOM  OF  HEAVEN  UPON  EARTH. 


m  A.  CH.  V.  ^  221. 


as  regards  the 
world's 
constitutional 
government  and 
judgment. 


In  God  alone  is 
the 

understanding  of 
history  to  be 
found. 

Droyskn. 

The  conditions 
and  experiences 
of  faith. 

Mind  satisfied  in 
knowing  itself  to  be 
understood. 

Organic  connection  of 
the  members  with  the 
head ;  not  merely  on 
lines  of  intellectualism. 

A  Christian's  central 

position, 

"central-vision". 

Upon  this  scope 
mistrust,  born  of 
ignorance  gives  room  to 
confidence. 
Toothing  happens 
perchance  under 
auspices  of  blind  fate. 


Instances  of 
"fortuitous"  event! 
leading  to  great 
discoveries. 


Experiences  of 
providential  care 
confirm  us  in  the 
Icnnwledge  that 
"chance"  exists  not. 


made  obligatory  that  the  perfection  of  humanity  be  wrought  out,  in  which  each  indi- 
vidual recognises  its  grand  destiny  and  has  extended  to  him  the  assurance  of  its 
attainment.  It  is  the  kingdom  in  which  mankind  becomes  renewed  by  conformance 
with  the  original,  essential  and  final  destination;  in  which  the  human  family  regains 
its  lost  unity— where  the  necessity  of  the  law  is  superseded  by  the  new  covenant  of 
free  grace. 

The  innermost  of  the  three  concentric  circles  is  now  rendered  distinct.  The 
circle  out  on  the  periphery  designates  the  natural  universe.  The  human  world  forms 
the  next,  the  mixed  sphere  of  psychico-pneumatic  life.  The  purely  spiritual  Kingdom 
of  Heaven  upon  earth  and  in  Heaven  forms  the  central  compass.  This  was  always 
the  goal  toward  which  all  rotating  cycles  of  physical,  mental,  and  ethical  develop- 
ment were  consigned  from  the  beginning. 

It  was  the  result  of  a  previous  survey  of  this  topic  that  we  discerned  the  thought 
as  having  become  a  fact  in  the  person  of  the  Mediator  at  the  fullness  of  time.  The  per- 
sonal relation  of  each  man  to  Him  consists,  as  may  be  learned  empirically,  in  the 
trusting  devotedness  and  unreserved  consecration  to  a  love  which  embraces  each  in- 
dividual created  in  the  "image,"  even  tho  this  may  be  blurred  in  the  forlorn  condition 
of  the  individual.  The  relation  is  founded  upon  confidence  in  a  holy  world-govern- 
ment conducted  by  love  and  justice,  according  to  which  gifts  have  been  granted  un- 
der the  expectation  of  prompt  returns;  and  signs  of  love  have  been  communi- 
cated to  a  world  of  humanity  wherein  signs  of  appreciation  rarely  appear. 
It  is  confidence  in  a  just  government  which  uses  discrimination  as  to  the  degree 
to  which,  considering  indigent  circumstances  and  gif  tedness,  allowances  can  be  made 
as  to  how  far  that  could  have  been  accomplished  which  had  been  commanded. 

Most  willingly  do  we  agree  with  Droysen's  sentence  in  his  "Outlines  of  Histor- 
ies": "History,  too,  teaches  to  understand  God,  and  in  God  alone  can  we  find  its  un- 
derstanding." But  we  offer  as  an  amendment  that  this  understanding,  since  we  can 
never  obtain  it  otherwise  than  in  parts,  can  satisfy  no  mind  but  such  a  one  as  knows 
itself  to  be  understood,  and  trusts  that  that,  which  to  us  remains  unknown,  is  properly 
provided  for,  nevertheless.  This  is  possible  only  in  the  organism  where  Heaven  and 
earth  are  in  contact.  With  this  organism  the  individual  members  do  not,  however, 
sustain  rapport  by  reason  alone;  their  feeling  and  will  are  likewise  to  be  attached 
thereto.  The  individual  must  know  and  feel  himself  organically  and  historically 
connected  with,  and  supported  by,  the  Head.  The  member  knows  itself  to  be  rescued 
and  cleansed  by,  and  safe  only  in  the  incessant  and  cordial  relation  with,  the  Head. 
In  union  with  the  Mediator  the  Christian  partakes  of  the  position  in  the  midst  of 
things.  His  vision  therefore  is  rendered  central  as  from  the  summit  of  a  freestand- 
ing mountain. 

Upon  this  scope  the  mistrust  born  of  ignorance  gives  way  to  an  assured  confi- 
dence. Then  such  fortuitous  events  of  history,  as  were  designated  the  unaccount- 
able margin  of  histories,  and  which  people  are  quick  to  ascribe  to  fate— as  an  acci- 
dental matter,  a  chance  or  mishap— lose  their  embarrassing  effects  upon  the  faithful. 

Hap-hazard  seems  to  have  great  sway  in  the  various  predicaments  which  man  has  to 
endure,  as  well  as  in  favorable  contingencies  of  historic  note.  Quite  a  number  of  the  most 
important  discoveries  and  inventions  are  traceable  to  an  occasion  which  seemed  a  matter  of 
mere  chance. 

In  the  Cathedral  of  Pisa,  Galilaeo  sees  a  lamp  swinging  from  having  just  been  refilled  with 
oil,  and  is  thereby  led  to  find  the  pendular  oscillations.  An  apple  falling  to  the  ground,  leads 
Newton  to  discover  the  law  of  gravity  and  attraction.  The  flight  of  a  swarm  of  pelicans 
toM'ards  the  south  prompts  Columbus  to  steer  in  that  direction,  whereby  North  America  is 
left  to  the  Germanic  nations  and  protestantism.  Numerous  are  the  "happenings"  like  finding 
gold  in  California,  by  which  streams  of  emigration  were  directed  to  regions  unknown  or 
deemed  inaccessible  before.  Is  not  then  the  coincidence  of  difPerent  and  seemingly  irrelevant 
circumstances  to  be  exalted  to  the  importance  of  a  historic  factor  conditioning  the  progress 
of  history?  Should  not  that  writer  be  correct,  after  all,  who  designates  incidental  happening 
as  "the  little  finger"  of  the  hand  of  God  Almighty. 

It  is  a  psychological  fact,  founded  upon  experience,  that  people  who  recognise 
themselves  as  being  incorporated  into  the  center  of  things,  are  the  more  reluctant  to 
acknowledge  events  as  mere  incidental,the  more  they  experience  the  support  of  Prov- 
idence.   They  see  miracles  everywhere,  everywhere  the  "little  finger"  in  occurrences 


TTT  B.  Syllabus.  eelation  of  the  world  to  the  redeemee.  413 

which  to  others  seem  insigniflcant.    On  the  strength  of  their  own  experience  they  see  Small  matters 
the  direct  rulings  of  the  Father  in  Heaven  in  small  things  by  which  they  are  con-  aItu?rdng™polnS 
firmed  of  the  providential  care  as  a  most  indisputable  fact,  affording  them  an  assured  fu^"ish^th|' 
certitude,  solace,  security  and  encouragement.    Facts  occurring  at  just  such  a  time  measure  for 
make  their  pettiness,  because  of  which  otherwise  they  would  remain  unnoticed,  the  patience?  *" 
more  remarkable,  the  plainer  they  evince  themselves  as  turning  points  in  our  lives; 
by  their  bearing  upon  the  sequences  they  become  grounds  of  conviction  from  which  • 
no  one  can  dissuade  us.    Such  facts  furnish  us  the  measure  for  our  prudence  and— 
patience. 

By  the  repetition  of  striking  experiences  of  that  nature  the  thought  is  revived  Providential  care 
within  us  of  a  providential  guidance,  howsoever  veiled  in  mystery;  and  we  are  taught  ?eiied"iuitü*'the^? 
by  it,  to  habitually  give  ourselves  up  to  this  guidance  until  we  shall  clearly  see  their  beneficial  results 
beneficial  effect  upon  the  future.    Drawn  into  the  movement  of  a  sacred  history  as  if  perc^efvedf 
this  were  conducted  for  our  private  interests,  we  are  gladdened  to  see  more  and  more  g^j„ 
that  our  trusting  hope  does  not  deceive  us,  and  that  our  patient  waiting  and  child-  derived  an^d  ^® 
like  devotion  were  not  in  vain.  future  dSwn*^® 

Thus  the  method  of  the  divine  rulings  of  the  world  becomes  transparent  to  the  from  the  personal 
attentive  observer  in  such  degree,  as  he  sees  the  events  of  his  own  life  being  directed  by  divine 
Providence.    Tho  wrought  out  from  raw  material  he  knows  himself  to  be  guided  up-  government, 
ward  and  to  be  fashioned  after  the  eternal  proto-type,  in  order  to  become  gloriously  ^"^f  „i*  ^h^^® 
transformed  into  His  likeness.  In  the  harmonious  concord  of  all  his  inner  potential!-  mystery  of  a 
ties  man  shows  himself  to  be  a  living  stone  of  the  great  temple  which  resounds  with  fhe  worTd  ^or  the 
the  anthems  of  praise.    And  from  the  methods  in  which  his  own  affairs  are  govern-  ^|?^**  of  Christ's 
ed,  he  has  the  indications  for  forming  an  appropriate  conception  of  the  manner  in  becomes  lucid, 
which  all  movements  are  to  proceed  in  order  to  arrive  at  the  consummation  toward  ah  in  nature  and 
which  all  creation  is  tending.  It  is  only  on  these  grounds  that  man  may  comprehend  ?eiatioÄthe  worwto* 
the  world  of  nature  and  history  and  the  government  of  both  as  one  locked,  complete  and^hose™^"^ 
system.    In  the  mystical  center  of  that  system  of  the  synthesis  man,     the  miracle  of  ori&inaiiy 
the  \vorld,feels  himself  safe,  knowing  himself  to  be  a  component  part  of  a  redeemed  mm*^  ^  ^ 
humanity,  around  and  for  the  benefit  of  which,  as  for  its  mystical  seed,  nature  and  thruSeS'^'"'''"'' **' 
history  revolve.     He  feels  himself  safe  as  a  member  of  that  humanity  which  under 
a  fatherly  management  is  to  be  prepared  for  the  final  glorification,  including  the  uni- 
verse as  belonging  to  humanity. 


B.  SECOND  DIVISION.— RESULTS  OF  HISTORY. 


Trusting  and  hoping,  we  must  not,  however,  anticipate  the  glorious  state  of  per- 
fection to  set  in  at  once  in  compliance  with  our  desires.    The  most  difficult  part  [of  Pessimisn  as  to  real 
the  way  we  have   to  climb  is  as  yet  before  us.     And  before  we  can  hasten  to  *«'^'«^«'»'«'^*«- 
a  close  of  our  dissertation  and  exposition  of  thoughts  upon  the  closing  scenes  of  his- 
tory, we  can  not  evade  the  question  as  to  the  real  issues  of  historic  commotions,  progress  on  the  iine  o« 
What  will  it  be,  that  has  been  accomplished  by  them?    What  proof  of  real  progress 
on  the  line  of  human  happiness  can  be  adduced?    Do  the  cultural  establishments  h  u    -    i    i 
yield  a  net  gain,  or  are  the  profits  required  merely  to  keep  them  in  running  order? 

We  know  that  objections  to  our  assertions  of  continual  advancement  come  not 
alone  from  the  adherents  of  Schopenhauer's  world-theory.  They  say  that  every  new 
phase  of  the  rotary  movements  only  plunges  humanity  into  new  distresses.  Con" 
cerning  real  achievements  even  certain  other  seekers  after  truth,  deserving  still  more 
consideration  than  the  pessimists,  have  become  sceptical. 

With  their  spiral  motion  of  culture  we  find  no  fault:  we  entertain  a  similar  view. 
Cultures  were  buried  under  ruins  and  have,  at  other  times  and  places,  been  brought  Siotioif  of**^ 
back  to  life.  Thus  reinstated  they  appeared  enriched  and  moved  forward  on  the  as-  progress, 
cendant  plane.  It  has  also  been  said  that  the  historic  motion  was  circular,  meaning 
thereby  that  everything  returns  to  the  same  level  and  that  matters  remain  essentially 
What  they  always  were.  The  culture  of  the  Occident  which  arose  after  the  great  di- 
vide of  the  the  times,  would  then  represent  a  new,  but  scarcely  improved,  sphere  above 
that  oriental  culture  which  went  down  with  Rome. 


414 


PROGRESS  AND  GOAL  OF  CIVILISATION. 


mB.CH.l.  §222. 


le  progres 
civilisation  must 
have  a  specific 
and  definite  goal. 


This  question  of  progress  remains  to  be  considered  in  order  to  satisfy  the  inquiry 
as  to  the  specific  and  definite  goal  of  civilisation  in  more  than  one  respect.  Investi- 
gating whether  a  real  progress  in  economics  can  be  vindicated,  we  must,  in  the  first 
place,  view  the  problem  from  its  physical  aspect.  This  will  lead  us  to  argue  upon 
the  topic  of  intellectual  advance.  Then  questions  as  to  sesthetical  and  finally  ethical 
improvement  will  require  our  attention.  To  each  of  these  disquisitions  a  chapter  is 
to  be  dedicated.  And  then  "the  Theme"  will  resound  in  the  great  finale  of  the  earthly 
drama.  Its  intonation  will  signalise  the  harvesting  of  the  earnings  of  humanity 
into  the  garners,  the  transport  of  the  fruits  of  the  spirit,  and  of  the  essences  extracted 
from  the  realm  of  the  secondary  good,  into  the  state  of  permanency  and  beatitude. 


Progress  under 
aspects  of 
economic,  of 
intellectual  and 
sesthetical 
advance  of 
ethical 
improvements. 

No 

law 

of  projfress  in  history, 
since  this  is  no 
mechanicisni. 

The  goal  to  be  reached  Is 
liberation  from  the 
dependency  upon 
natural  conditions. 

RiTTEB, 

Acceded  to  under  the 
proviso,  that  judgment 
as  to  the  value  of  this 
liberty  is  not  waived. 


Developing  life  in 
general —  :evolution. 


Individualisation  by 
detachments : 


valid  also  with 
reference  to  personal 


and  natural  life. 


Differentiation  and 
organisation. 


Nomade  life  consuming 
what  the  soil  yields 
without  tiUing  it. 


Primitive  agriculture 
causes  migrations. 


Settled  life. 

Rational 
agriculture  the 
first  step  to 
cultural  life, 

With  the  acre  fructified] 
by  intelligence  begins 
the  emancipation  from 
the  clod  of  the  soil. 


CH.  I.  PROGRESS  UNDER  THE  ASPECT  OF  PHYSICAL  ACQUIREMENTS :    ECONOMICS. 

§  222.  A  law  of  progress  does  not  exist,  since  history  is  no  mechanism.  But 
progress  there  is,  most  assuredly.  And  it  is  perceptible  if  we  only  do  not  attempt  to 
conceive  it  as  moving  in  a  single,  straight  line. 

Progress  is  rather  brought  forth  by  a  series  of  different,  partly  concurrent  cult- 
ures running  in  parallel  and  intersecting  waves.  These  wave-lines  are  not  of  equal 
length.  Frequently  they  coalesce  to  run  in  one  line  until  here  and  there  they  branch 
off  again  to  the  right  or  left,  up  or  down.  Most  conspicuous  is  the  sum  of  progress 
in  physical  results,  in  triumph  over  nature.  "The  human  race  becomes  evermore 
liberated  from  the  fetters  of  natural  forces;  man  gradually  becomes  disengaged  from 
the  earthy  lump  that  gave  birth  to  him."  This,  in  the  words  of  Ritter,  is  the  goal  to 
be  reached.  In  this  physical  emancipation  great  things  have  certainly  been  achieved, 
which  we  accredit  to  culture,  provided  we  are  not  misunderstood  as  tho  this  acknowl- 
edgment included  the  waiving  of  our  judgment  as  to  the  value  of  this  freedom.  We 
here  discuss  progress  in  respect  to  a  very  definite  domain. 

Every  earthly  development  proceeds  in  a  method  common  to  all  creatures.  The  young 
animal  life  as  concealed  in  the  egg,  adheres  as  yet  to  its  soft  environment.  It  is  covered  and 
enveloped,  and  its  parturition  protected  by  the  warmth  of  the  brooding  parent.  It  is  a  par- 
ticular life  already,  but  as  yet  tied  up  by  and  involved  in  the  g-eneral  life  of  its  species.  This 
evolutionary  progress  proceeds,  under  a  series  of  detachments  and  separations  during  partu- 
rition. By  loosening  itself  from  enclosures  life  individualises  itself,  until  finally  the  last 
decaying  membrane  or  husk  is  thrown  ofif  and  the  new  organism  animated  by  its  own  inter- 
nal impulses,  and  adapted  to  its  surrounding,  moves  in  the  atmosphere  of  the  external  world. 

In  precisely  the  same  manner  personal  life  individualises  itself  in  an  ascending  scale  of 
progress  toward  self-  and  world-consciousness. 

In  a  manner  at  least  analogous  does  a  nation  develop  from  its  state  of  being  "na- 
ture-bound" by  way  of  differentiation  and  organisation.  We  shall  see  the  same  mode 
of  progress  in  the  ever  augmenting  departments  of  social  life.  We  subsume  this  de- 
velopment as  the  physical  part  of  cultural  progress  in  distinction  from  ethical  ad- 
vance. 

At  first  nomade-tribes  appropriate  what  the  soil  yields.  When  pasture  is  consum- 
ed the  tents  are  taken  down  and  the  herds  are  driven  to  other  fields.  For  the 
ground  nothing  is  done.  It  yields  but  does  not  receive  cultivation  in  return. 
Productiveness  diminishing,  the  herd  wanders  away.  Some  bottom  lands,  perhaps, 
are  plowed,  if  breaking  up  the  soil,  or  rather  scatching  the  surface  deserves  that 
name,  and  perhaps  the  shrubs  are  grubbed  out  to  some  extent.  This  primitive  agri- 
culture is  carried  on  no  longer  than  the  productiveness  of  the  virgin  soil  lasts.  New 
lands  are  hunted  up  and  farmed  off.  In  the  one  instance  as  in  the  other,  in  the  coun- 
tries of  the  old  Indo-Germans,  as  much  as  in  Asia,  the  decline  of  such  spontaneous 
harvest  caused  immigrations,  whereby  nations  of  culture,  which  once  had  begun 
career  in  the  same  way,  are  overpowered. 

In  the  next  state,  the  period  of  steadiness  and  settlements,  a  higher  culture  suc- 
ceeds, founded  upon  more  rational  treatment  of  the  soil,  proving  agriculture 
to  be  the  first  step  toward  culture.  In  the  technical  terms  of  agriculture  lie  "the  ety- 
mological roots".  The  clod  of  ground  becoming  "an  acre"  which  is  fructified  by  in- 
telligence and  persevering  energy,  and  designates  the  beginning  of  emancipation 
from  the  earthly  clod.  This  is  the  usual  way  in  which  historical  nations  severally 
founded  their  existence. 


ni  B.  CH.  I.  §  223.  PRIMITIVE  COMMUNISM.  415 

But  we  repeat,  that  the  soil  most  favorable  to  the  founding  of  states  is  not  that  which  Regions  which 
requires  the  least  exertion.    The  great  valleys  of  ^gypt  and  Mesopotamia  made  persistent  necessitate  mental 
struggles  necessary,  in  digging  canals,  in  erecting  dams,  dikes  and  embankments.    The  high  ^*^'°"*  ^""^  *"»"i'^*i 
plateaus  of  Tenochtitlan  and  Mexico,  and   of   Cuzco   in  Peru,  show    remnants  of  a  high 
advance  in   culture,    because    they  lie  elevated  to  degrees  of  the  moderate    zone    which 
necessitates  the  surmounting  of  many  difficulties  under  mental  exertions  and  manual  toil. 

This  stage  of  progress  affords  the  best  opportunity  for  observing  the  transition  Transition  f, on,  the  iife 
from  general  forms  of  generic  life  to  social  differentiations.    The  mode  of  possessing  ÄeSion  of^'ldai 
the  fields  illustrates  the  gradual  change.  A  certain  area  is  at  first  the  common  prop-  *''*' 
erty  of  the  community.    Only  the  improvements  upon  the  land,  house  and  garden,  ^°'"'"'*"  »"^°''"*y 
etc.  are  held  by  right  of  ownership,  of  labor.    The  land,  subsequently,  is  parcelled  out  ^«^eioping 
to  freeholders  who  cultivate  their  "lots",  whilst  the  woods  and  the  meadows,  the  vil-  '°*° "^'g'* »' p^'^ate 

'  possession. 

läge  greens  and  the  river  banks  still  belong  to  the  commonalty,  to  which  each  of  its 
members  has  the  right  of  usufruct,  pasturing  his  domestic  animals  upon  the  "com- 
mons".   Sheep  and  geese  are  sent  out  with  the  herds  of  cattle  under  watch  of  a  paid  Henry  George's 

•      .  1  1         1  •   1  Ji     1  vHcoriGs  V£iiici  in 

herdsman.    The  hogs  fatten  on  acorn  in  the  woods,  which  on  that  account  enjoy  the  primitive  stages 
care  of  the  public  for  their  preservation.  The  more  remote  the  time,  the  more  we  find  ^^  ^^^^^^  ^^^e- 
Henry  George's  agrarian  theories  of  common  ownership  of  the  soil  in  practice.  Com-  SSnlufgff^'**" 
munistic  possession  precedes  private  ownership.    All  are  in  duty  bound  to  the  whole 
bound  to  the  soil.    Private  titles  are  limited  by  the  right  of  the  community.    Even 
after  the  partition  of  the  fields  the  right  of  common  pasture  stood  paramount,  so  that  tllming.^^^'^ " 
for  the  common  good  private  real  estate  was  taxed  with  pasture  regulations  and  with 
the  triplex  system  of  farming,  that  is,  parts  of  the  whole  "field"  or  as  were  in  turns  common  ownership 
set  aside  to  lay  fallow;  another  part  was  designated  for  summer  crops,  and  one  third  ^f  priväem\üXn*T 
was  sown  with  grain.    Consequent  to  these  regulations  the  individual  owner  was, 
for  the  sake  of  common  pasture,  limited  to  his  certain  share  in  the  number  of  domes- 
tic animals.  Agrarian  conservatism  did  not  allow  progress  to  go  on  much  more  swift-  po2Ssion, 
ly  than  the  oxen  yoked  to  the  plough.    Large  tracts  of  land  suffered  under  communal  natur*\°'*^  ^^ 
encumbrances,  under  the  prohibition  of  taking  them  "under  the  plough."    Common  advantages, 
possession  was  protected  at  the  expense  of  agricultural  emulation,  of  progress  and  of  rl^onTi^^**^*^  ^^ 
private  ownership.    The  right  of  possession  remained  subject  to  communal  muncipal  accommodations 
obligations,  and  the  peasantry  bound  to  that  part  of  mother  earth  which  was  rendered  adjustments, 
sacred  through  long  lines  of  ancestorship. 

From  these  stages  of  primitive  order  and  ruling  custom,  social  development  takes  ^^^^  in  the  value  o« 
new  starts  by  way  of  detachment  and  division.  Common  possession,  conditioned  by  i*^«""- 
natural  advantages  or  by  accommodation  to  natural  environments,  becomes  superseded 
by  rational  and  legal  adjustments,  and  by  the  corresponding  rise  in  the  value  of  indi- 
vidual labor.  The  soil  is  divided,  is  made  salable.  Private  proprietorship  stimulates 
intensity  of  management,  and  the  aspiration  to  independence  is  encouraged  together 
with  industriousness  and  a  feeling  of  selfhood.  Manual  labor  is  honored;  a  decent 
living  and  frugal  comfort  anent  to  invigorating  exercise  is  the  reward.    From  the  Free  from  the  ciod, 

°  °  o  o  nomade  life  of  the 

clod  the  factory  hand  is  detached.    Whether  he  is  less  nature-bound,  is,  however,  an-  "factory-hands". 
other  question— not  solved  by  the  nomade-life  in  the  tenement  houses  of  large  cities. 

§223.     As  the  third  stage  of  earthly  progress  we  may  consider,  with  Roscher,  Third  stage  of  progress 
the  preponderance  of  the  money-power.    True,  it  makes  the  soil  more  productive,  ^re?onÄnce  of  the 
by  putting  more  and  more  instrumentalities,  and  finally  machinery,  into  service.  The  ™^^®^"P**^ro^c«b. 
modern  age  opens,  the  social  dangers  of  our  times  take  their  origin.    The  worst  of  of  machinery; 
them  is  called  forth  by  the  profanation  of  agriculture.  of  deprecating  mrai 

Real  estate  is  made  an  object  of  money  speculation  and  with  fancy  prices  put  upon  ^^  ,^^i  ^^^^^^  brokerage; 
It,  becomes  a  light-winged  commodity,  a  disgust  to  heirs  who  hate  field  labor  and  the  ^^  jncuuivated 
monotony  of  rural  life.    Real  estate  is  abandoned  to  brokers,  landsharks  and  capital-  latifundia; 
Ists.    The  uncultivated  latifundia,  of  which  the  New  England  states,  Maryland,  etc.,  sJcia'rdangJr?"  *°  *''' 
largely  consist,  are  the  result.  impending 

Since  the  heedless  parcellation  of  family-tenures  has  caused  the  depreciation  of  an-  Depreciation  of  the 
eestral  homesteads,  the  previous  conditions,  as  for  instance  the  private  rights  of  possession,  »Jicestrai  home-stead. 

'  ^  ,,,.  •«,.  ,  ,  T.^1     Parcellation  of  land 

tinder  regulations  of  common  holdings  in  fiduciary  trusts,  are  now  almost  everywhere  abated,  causes  the  abandonment 

It  is  generally  accredited  to  Christianity  and  to  humanitarianism  issuing  from  offa»>'iy  Rowings. 
it,  that  serfdom  and  slavery  are  abolished.     We  aver,  however,  that  this  was  the  case  and  Ä .^  onijr  *"° 
Duly  very  indirectly.    It  has  been  rather  procured  by  the  modifying  effects  of  the  chrlstunlty*'''^**  ^^ 
new  relations  between  labor  and  capitaL 


416 

Density  of 
population 
conducive  to 
paid  service  of 
free  men. 

"Labor  market'' 
advantageous  to  the 
proprietors. 


Machines  and  factories 
caused  the  heir  of  tlie 
manor  to  sink  to  the 
level  of  the  heir  of  the 
"villain''. 

New  economics 
conducive  to  the 
welfare  of  the  laboring 

class. 

Liberty  to  a 
large  extent  the 
fruit  of 


heightened 
productiveness 
of  the  soil  and  of 
"ploughing:"  the 
ocean. 

Checks  in  the  growth  of 
population. 


Crusades. 

Mongolian  invasions, 

Ravages  of  the  "black 
death''. 

Thirty  Years  War. 

Civil  wars  since  the 
English  revolution. 

Augmentation  of 
numbers  in 
population  kept 
pace  with  the 
decades  since  the 
Napoleonic  wars. 


Economical 
prosperity  and 
consciousness  of 
human  dignity 

change  the 
diplomacy  of 
absolutism  into 
careful 
observance  of 
social  polity. 

Effects  of 

humanistic 

studies. 

Improved 
condition  of  the 
"fourth  estate", 

ninstrated  by  contrasts 
in  German  and  Latin 
nations.  Ruschxb. 

Freeing  from  slavery  to 
save  the  costly  human 
btrength  for  actual 
work. 

Sanitary  ImproTements 
in  Antioch.        Moiimnr. 


Filthy  conditions  ot 
towns  in  the  Middle- 
Ages. 


AGRICULTURAL  AND  INDUSTRIAL  PROGRESS.  Ill  B.  Ch.  I.  §  223. 

Where  pastural  and  agricultural  pursuits  prevail,  serfs  and  retainers  upon  the  manor 
are  still  more  profitable.  And  such  social  conditions  would,  in  Russia  for  instance,  be  of 
good  service  for  all  concerned— in  Russia,  where  twenty-five  persons  average  the  habitation 
of  a  square  mile,  or  in  the  southern  states  of  the  Union.  In  Western  Europe,  however,  where 
there  are  one  hundred  people  on  an  average  to  the  square  mile,  these  conditions  must  change 
regardless  of  humanitarianism.  For  in  crowded  regions,  a  "labor-market",  that  is,  the  paid 
service  of  free  men,  is  much  more  advantageous  to  the  proprietor. 

The  fact  has  been  pointed  out  that  by  the  increasing  and  facilitated  utilisation 
of  men  in  productive  labor,  the  slaves  of  ancient  times  became  the  serfs,  "villains,'* 
and  yeomen  of  the  Middle- Ages,  and  those  in  turn  became,  through  large  manufactur- 
ing establishments  and  by  the  introduction  of  machinery,  the  journeymen,  the  day- 
laborers  of  modern  times.  We  have  lived  to  see  the  nobleman  sink  into  poverty,  as 
well  as  the  farm-hand  and  the  peasant  whose  ancestors  were  servants  in  fee  to  the 
ancestors  of  the  former,  and  who  himself  had  inherited  the  obligation  to  work  two 
days  of  each  and  every  week  for  the  now  dispossessed  baron.  Wherever  population 
grows  in  density,  where  capital  farms  the  land  with  the  steam-plow,  when  time  is 
money,  where  the  distribution  of  products  through  the  social  organism  is  accelerated, 
there  free  labor  is  more  conducive  to  personal  welfare.  We  thus  see  in  what  high 
degree  the  development  of  political  freedom  is  founded  upon  extending  the  productiveness  of 
the  soil  and  the  mine,  even  upon  ploughing  the  ocean. 

Economic  progress  as  a  civilising  factor,  is  largely  due  to  the  increasing  density 
of  population. 

The  first  check  of  this  growth  since  the  reconstruction  of  Europe,  after  the  fall  of  the 
West  Roman  empire  and  the  storms  of  the  migrations,  occurred  in  the  centuries  of  the 
crusades. 

In  the  middle  of  the  fourteenth  century  the  diffusion  of  the  people  over  Europe  exhibits 
a  marked  change.  The  number  of  inhabitants  has  increased.  Italy,  France,  and  the  Low 
Countries  are  the  most  crowded  since  the  eastern  parts  had  to  suffer  the  Mongolian  invasions 
and  the  central  parts  suffered  under  the  ravages  of  the  "black  death"  which  took  away 
25,000,000  of  people;  under  the  wars  with  the  Turks,  and  finally  by  the  religious  contests.  The 
Thirty  Years'  War  depopulated  Germany  from  seventeen  to  four  millions.  Then  came  the 
civil  wars  raging  in  almost  every  one  of  the  western  states.  Only  after  the  Napoleonic  war, 
throughout  the  first  fifteen  years  of  our  century,  a  continual  augmentation  of  people  kept 
pace  with  the  decades.  Europe  became  rejuvenated.  Adam  Smith  thought  that  England 
would  need  five  centuries  to  double  her  population ;  but  it  took  Europe  only  ninety  years  to 
double  the  number  of  inhabitants,  and  Germany  only  sixty  years  in  spite  of  thousands  upon 
thousands  sacrificed  to  wars,  and  despite  the  largely  increased  emigration. 

At  bottom  the  sole  reason  for  these  attainments  lies  in  the  economical  prosperity 
and  the  heightened  consciousness  of  man's  dignity,  all  resting  upon  the  basis  of  ru- 
ral husbandry. 

The  policy  of  monarchical  absolutism  was  up  to  the  middle  of  our  century  chiefly 
bent  upon  the  "wealth  of  nations,"  upon  "balance  of  power,"  upon  increase  of  pres- 
tige, and  somewhat  upon  law  and  order.  Now  we  have  to  follow  a  social  polity,  gov- 
ernments have  become  civil,  and  legislatures  are  compelled  to  be  deeply  concerned  in 
appeasing  the  demands  of  common  welfare.  Human  rights  and  the  pursuit  of  hap- 
piness are  to  be  cared  for  first  of  all.  This  is  the  effect  of  the  thought  of  humanism 
silently  working  through  the  study  of  humanistics  on  the  basis  of  industriousness, 
and  upon  the  basis,  in  the  last  resort,  of  agriculture. 

See  how  much  the  condition  of  the  third,  now  a  fourth  estate  has  been  ameliorated,  as 
illustrated  by  the  contrast  drawn  by  Roscher.  "There  is  the  South  American,  heaving  under 
the  burden  of  the  heavy  ores  which  he  carries  upon  his  back  from  the  mines  of  the  Andes  to 
the  smelters.  Here  the  factory  hand  of  Europe  and  North  America,  who  is  carried  up  and 
down  the  elevator  plying  between  four  and  fourteen  stories,  in  order  to  save  the  costly  human 
strength  for  actual  work.  What  freedom  from  drudgery,  and  what  stages  and  times  of 
advance  lie  between  these  two  extremes.  There  slave-market  and  slave-raisers,  here  per- 
centages of  profit  for  the  free  laborer  with  all  sorts  of  mutual  insurances  and  free  libraries". 

The  thought  of  humanism  was  active  at  great  lengths,  in  the  many  institutions 
aiming  at  public  health. 

It  is  true,  the  ancients  also  paid  some  attention  to  sanitary  measures.  Every  house  of 
Antioch  was,  according  to  Mommsen,  provided  with  running  water,  from  the  park  at  Daphne 
near  by,  dotted  with  well-springs.  The  oasis  of  Palmyra  contained  many  exquisite  water 
reservoirs  properly  emured  and  covered. 

Not  less  was  the  Occident,  even  through  the  Middle- Ages,  well  supplied  with  baths,  private 
and  public.  But  the  streets  remained  unpaved;  the  floors  of  the  rooms  were  covered  with 
straw  and  rush-grasses.  Public  cleanliness  was  never  thought  of,  neither  was  it  thought  of 
to  provide  a  city  with  good  water.  These  cities  with  narrow  streets,  crowded  between  gigan- 
tic walls  and  moats,  became  the  hot-beds  of  epidemic  diseases. 


m  B.  CH.  I.  §  224.  DISTANCES  REDUCED  BY  RAPID  TRANSIT.  417 

The  health  offices  of  recent  times  carrying  out  sanitary  regulations  in  the  inter- 
est of  laboring  classes  have  much  to  do  with  the  increase  of  population  and  public 
comforts. 

§  224.    Civilisation  is  now  at  the  point  of  conquering  the  distances  of  space  Sl'SncesTsTce"* 
and  time,  both  of  which  impede  human  endeavor.    Progress  aims  at  freeing  men  '^'^  *'"»«• 
from  their  restrictions  as  much  as  possible.    In  other  words,  it  aims  at  the  domina-  Dominion  of  mind  over 

...  .    .  T         1        ,  «  Circumstances 

tion  of  the  mind  over  circumstances  hemming  in  the  spirit.    In  the  hurry  of  modern  restricting  the  »pirit. 
life  natural  restraints  are  more  than  ever  felt  to  encumber  communication  and  cor- 
respondence is  already  carried  on  upon  a  scope  so  extensive  as  never  before  had 
been  imagined  even  as  a  mere  possibility.  _,  ^ 

...  .«X.  j>.i  History  of  the  means  of 

The  history  of  the  struggle  against  distances,  m  perfecting  means  of  rapid  tran-  intercourse. 
sit  may  be  divided  into  distinct  periods. 

At  first  we  notice  the  old  and  unreliable  means  of  communication  with  the  ^reat  nations  ,     p     •   ^  • 
of  Asia,  depending  upon  opportunities  of  transport  offered  at  points  where  goods  were  Rare  occasions  of 
exchanged.    Then  the  Phenician  wholesale  and  colonial  traffic  brings  about  the  first  attempts  4,^^";*^® 
at  international  intercourse,  especially  among  the  western  Asiatics  and  the  Hellenes.    The 
third  period  of  facilitated  communication  belongs  to  Rome  in  its  central  position,  with  its  2.    Period: 
monopolies  and  its  military  roads  to  and  from  remote  provinces  and  staple-places.    The  next  fil®"''^'.*'\*  ^^*>  first 

,        ,  ^    J  ^  J    ,,  /  .       X-  r    11      •  J-  1    .L-  »ttempt  at  international 

step  of  advance  upon  connected  routes  and  lines  of  navigation  falls  in  mediaeval  times,  intercourse. 

The  North  and  the  East  of  Europe  are  drawn  into  the  commerce  of  the  world  simultaneously 

with  the  rapid  movements  of  Mohammedanism.    It  is  only  recently  that  Arabic  books  have  tomEm^f acmfi ' 

unrolled  a  picture  of  the  relations  and  routes  between  the  Ishmaelites  and  the  countries  of  the  monopolies  and  military 

Volga  and  the  Vistula.    This  period  closes  with  the  adventure  of  Columbus— for,  strange  to  '"*'** 

say,  from  the  times  of  Themistocles  until  that  of  the  doge  Dandalo,  comparatively  vei  y  slow  ^     Period  • 

progress,  if  any  at  all,  had  been  made  in  ship-building.    The  participation  of  the  western  Rapid  movements  of 

hemisphere  in  the  maritime  commerce  of  the  world  will  have  to  be  designated  as  the  fifth     «''»animedanism. 

period. 

Entirely  new  departures  in  the  art  of  navigation  have  rendered  it  at  last  the  From 
most  important  factor  in  historic  movement.  Especially  since,  in  our  own  day,  steam  Jog^D^dT  ^ 
and  electricity  have  been  hitched  before  advance  on  land  and  water,  the  world  owes  and  Columbus 
its  greatest  and  fastest  strides  to  their  practical  utilisation.    With  still  larger  prom-  pro^ressln^ 
ises  ahead,  concerning  the  communication  to  and  from  the  former  ends  of  the  world,  ship-building, 
perfection  seems  so  well  nigh  accomplished,  that  it  may  be  baid:  In  respect  to  rapid  Jf,^'*/^"/^^**'^* 
transit  of  thoughts,  goods  and  passengers  we  live  in  the  age  best  corresponding  to  the  ^j^^^^  navigatfon  of 
sixth  period  of  the  hexameron— in  the  age  of  surprises,  of  celerity.  ^    Pe  •  *d- 

A  review  of  the  stages  in  which  so  far  man  has  tried  to  accelerate  his  travels  is  very  Western  hemisphere 
instructive  as  to  the  degree  in  which  peoples  of  arrested  cultures  still  live  under  old  restric-  englg^me^tT""**™* 
tions  of  traffic. 

Imagine  those  wagons  covered  with  wicker-work  and  hides,  of  which  JEschylos  left  us  a  ^r    Period : 
description,  and  upon  which  the  hordes  of  the  Tatary  dwelled  and  traveled  along  the  Volga,  of  communication.  *" 
as  they  still  dwell  and  travel.  Contrasts- 

In  India,  ox-carts  and  elephants  are  the  vehicles  of  travel,  whilst  the  camel  serves  as  the 
ship  of  the  desert  from  the  Niger  to  the  Yantsekiang.    Thus  moves  the  Orient.    China,  of  Moving-wagons, 
course,  had  its  net  of  good  roads,  and  Persia  has  its  post-riders  and  runners,  but  traffic  on  described*by°*^I^''' 
the  whole  did  not  move  any  the  faster  for  all  that.  Greece  had  been  advanced  as  far  as  to  have 
wheel-tracks,    hewn    into  the  rocks  and    meand*»ring    along    every  turn  of  the  cliffs  and  India's  vehicles: 

'  DO.'  ox -carts  and  elephants. 

abysses.    But  of  any  solid  cause- way  like  the  drive-road  of  Cyrus,  from  his  residence  to  his  ^      . 

fire  temple,  scarcely  any  trace  is  found.    How  slowly  were  the  distances  overcome.    Accord-  (jggert"  ^^  ^        ^ 

ing  to  the  Odysee  the  journey  from  Lesbos  to  Argos  took  three  days.    Xenophon  praises  it  as 

a  great  feat,  that  a  Milesian  ship  made  the  trip  from  Lampsakos  to  the  Spartan  landing  in  three  China— net  of  roads. 

days.    Rome  had  its  governmental  postal  routes  through  all  the  conquered  provinces ;  pro-  Persia— post  riders. 

consuls  built  their  straight  cause- ways  even  through  deserts.    But  people  upon  journeys  took  Greece— wheel  tracks 

their  leisure.    How  cumbersome  travel  crept  along  during  the  Middle-Ages,  we  can  com-  **®^'*  '"*°  '°'^^- 

pute  from  the  records  of  the  imperial  expeditions  to  Rome,  and  of  the  rides  from  one  palati-  ^ou™e*s'*throu'h  Af Hcan 

nate  to  the  other.  deserts. 

But  in  respect  to  technical  appliances  in  conquering  space  and  time  our  age 
stands  unique.    The  first  ocean  steamer,  the  "Savanah"  crossed  the  Atlantic  in  1819.  crossed  the 
Since  that  time  the  earth  has  been  rendered  smaller  to  us  through  steam  and  tele-  ^19^"**°  ^'  ^* 
graph.    The  Mediterranean  in  St.  Paul's  time  was  virtually  more  extensive  than  the 
I*acific  is  today  to  our  missionaries  to  China. 

The  fact  is,  in  short,  that  the  earth  is  now  more  than  ever  before  rendered  sub-  ,g9QT,j^   p 
ject  to  man's  mind.    Irrespective  of  the  increase  and  density  of  population  since  traf-  less  extensive 
fie  has  been  cleared  from  impediments,  and  communication  by  letter  has  been  made  Mediterranean 
almost  free  of  expense;  abstracting  also  from  the  results  of  chemical  research,  we  jnSt.  Paul's 
hiarvel  at  the  extent  to  which  the  mineral  kingdom  has  been  utilised  in  facilitating 
and  contracting  commercial  relations. 


41« 


UNIFYING  EFFECTS  OF  TECHNICAL  PROGRESS. 


in  B.  Ch.  II.  §  225. 


Ancient  polytechnics, 
scarcely  surpassed. 


Utensils  in  ancient 
iBgypt. 


Mineral  kingdom 
pressed  into  service  to 
contract  commercial 
relations. 


Not  without  having 
been  prepared  by 
preceding  cultures. 
Long  course  for 
developing  the  present 
iron  industry. 

But  for  the  exactions 
imposed  upon  the  earth 
civilisation  would  have 
been  impossible. 


Sun's  rays  in  condensed 
shape. 


Civilisation  to  be 
wrought  out 
under 

cooperation  of 
all  parts  of  the 
globe. 


The  globe  more  than 
ever  rendered  subject 
to  man's  mind. 

Lively 

interaction  of  all 
subdivisions  of 
culture,  which 
all  claim  title  to 
civilisation 
recognising 
thereby  the 
esteem  due  to 
Christianity  on 
account  of  its 
results 


Universal  standard 
time  to  be  adopted 

Araso,  Hesschel 

Artificial  universal 
language. 

Do  results  of  economic 
progress  benefit  the 
cause  of  true  humanism? 
They  certainly  can  he 
made  subservient  to  it. 
Surrey  of  the  field  of 
research  for  the 
purpose  of  ascertaining 
the  modes  of  thinking. 
Scientific 
knowledge 
develops  from 
above. 

H.  V.  SCHUBKBT. 

Thinking  is  called  forth 
by  the  prompting  to 
understand  nature, 
mind  being  attracted  in 
the  first  place  by  the 
starry  world. 

Temple  wisdom 
consisted  in 
arraging 
natural 
knowledge. 


Progress  sufficient  to  surpass  some  of  the  ancient  techniques  has,  perhaps,  not  been 
made.  It  is  proven  that  the  .älgyptians  under  the  oldest  dynasties  used  not  only  steel 
for  chiseling  hieroglyphs  into  granite  and  syenite,  but  worked  even  with  circle-saw  and 
with  drill  inside  of  tubes,  the  points  and  edges  of  the  bores  consisting  of  precious  stones. 
On  one  of  the  granite  sarcophagi  in  the  great  pyramid  of  Gizeh,  a  diamond  saw  had  evi- 
dently been  used.    We  need  not  doubt  these  accomplishments  of  the  ancients. 

The  role  which  metals  play  has  become  of  an  import  paramount  to  that  of  almost 
any  other  commodity.  And  what  would  become  of  our  culture  without  coal?  Wherever 
we  may  cast  our  eyes,  metallic  products  present  themselves,  from  a  tiny  needle 
to  a  cast-steel  cylinder  weighing  ten  thousand  pounds,  like  the  one  which  forty  years 
ago  a  German  firm  exhibited  in  London.  To  such  proportions  has  grown  the  manu- 
facture and  utilisation  of  iron.  To  be  sure,  it  took  a  long  course  of  development, 
reaching  back  to  the  time  when  the  Calypians  on  the  shores  of  the  Black  Sea  brought 
iron  products  into  trade,  down  to  the  consuming  of  such  huge  quantities  as  are 
required  in  the  construction  of  suspension  bridges  and  underground  railroads. 

Had  it  not  been  for  the  exactions  imposed  upon  the  earth,  this  development  of 
the  means  of  civilisation  could  not  have  become  possible.  But  the  great  magazines 
were  forced  open  in  which  thiB  effects  of  the  sun  in  the  form  of  coal  and  petroleum 
were  stored  up  in  times  of  the  remote  past.  In  these  magazines  the  warmth  of 
the  sun's  rays  was  stored  in  a  condensed  state,  in  order  to  yield  their  wealth  at  the 
time  needed.  It  was  the  time  when  that  higher  plane  of  civilisation  was  reached 
which  of  old  never  could  have  been  expected. 

Modern  civilisation  has  thus  been  brought  about  by  the  cooperation  of  all  parts  of 
the  globe  in  a  world-embracing  traffic;  but  not  without  its  having  been  prepared  by 
preceding  cultures,  however  locally  limited  they  may  have  been.  Now  the  essence 
of  each  and  all  cultures  in  the  totality  of  their  subsumption  and  accumulated  issues  is 
put  into  circulation  to  be  distributed  everywhere  for  the  benefit  of  all  concerned.  We 
are  astonished  to  read  the  critical  thoughts  of  Japanese  and  Hindoos  upon  the  deep- 
est topics  agitating  European  nations,  written  in  most  excellent  style. 

For  the  first  time  in  history  we  witness  the  lively  interaction  (sorry  to  say,  al- 
most blending)  of  all  phases  of  culture,  each  claiming  recognition  as  forming  the 
first  rank  of  civilisation,  that  is,  of  Christianised  culture. 

This  seems  to  be  the  reason  that  the  nations  of  culture  contrive  at  arranging  a  universal 
measure  of  time,  a  standard  time,  upon  the  basis  of  common  possession  of  space.  Arago 
as  early  as  1819  directed  the  attention  of  his  fellow  citisens  to  the  irregularity  of  the  Parisian 
town-clocks.  Since  that  date  we  have  become  far  more  punctual.  The  intense  hurry  of  inter- 
course and  the  incessant  increase  of  international  transactions  compel  us  to  follow  Herschel's 
advice.  The  annoyances  caused  by  time-difPerences  make  themselves  felt  in  every-day  life. 
The  result  will  be  a  normal  chronometer  for  the  entire  world.  And  finally,  the  ever  rising 
demands  upon  most  accelerated  communication  will,  perhaps,  lead  to  the  construction  of 
that  universal  artificial  language,  which  is  now  attempted  in  certain  quarters. 

These  are  some  of  the  substantial  results  of  progress  as  far  as  they  pertain  to  the 
supremacy  of  the  mind  over  nature.  We  do  not  here  and  now  inquire  as  to  the  bene- 
fit accruing  from  these  results  for  the  cause  of  true  humanism.  Certain  it  is,  how- 
ever, that  they  can  be  rendered  subservient  thereto. 

CH.  II.    INTELLECTUAL  ACQUIREMENTS. 

§  225.  Upon  this  topic,  the  results  of  intellectual  progress,  we  need  not  enlarge 
very  much.  It  may  fittingly  be  restricted  to  the  field  of  research  and  the  modes  of 
thinking. 

In  the  ancient  temples  of  Petra,  hewn  into  the  rocks,  we  notice  the  top-panels  of 
the  frontispiece  to  have  been  finislied  first.  The  propylsea  crowned  by  these  relief 
sculptures  are  kept  out  of  view.  In  a  similar  manner,  says  H.  v.  Schubert,  proceeds 
the  development  of  scientific  knowledge,  not  from  below  but  from  above. 

The  thinking  mind  does  not  set  out  from  the  wants  of  every-day  life,  it  does  not 
commence  with  what  lies  at  our  feet,  it  is  called  to  action  by  what  shines  out  from 
above  our  heads.  Thought  begins  with  the  attention  the  starry  worlds  invite.  Think- 
ing, the  work  of  the  intellect  principally,  tends  to  the  understanding  of  nature  in 
order  to  master  it.  Even  the  wisdom  of  the  temples  consists  in  nothing  but  arrange- 
ments of  natural  knowledge.  The  deities  thought  out  are  essentially  but  personifica- 
tions of  physical  phenomena,  gods  of  nature  who  from  their  starry  habitations  above 


m  B.  Ch.  II.  §  226.         ADVANCE  IN  SCIENCES.— BACON'S  "PHILOSOPHIA  HUMANA".  419 

were  supposed  to  direct  forces  and  influences  downward.  The  genesis  of  science  lies  in  Genesis 
astrology.    The  Arabs,  in  pursuance  of  iKgyptian  and  Babylonian  traditions  on  the  °  '"^"'*  "*  astrology. 
whole  line  from  Toledo,  where  they  used  to  convene  in  astronomical  congress,  out  to 
the  observatory  at  Samarkand,  affirm  this  statement. 

The  ancients  nowhere  promulgated  the  idea  of  an  independent  science.    It  was  science  of  the  ancient« 
never  emancipated  from  priestly  tutelage  in  the  precincts  of  the  temples,  not  even  pHeYtiTtSgl*!'^  *'°°' 
among  the  Greeks.    That  is  significant  which  Curtius  said  about  their  historio- 
graphy. When  they  wrote  history  they  meant  apologetics  of  their  deities— vindica-  ^''^««'j  ^'«*«''«K"phy 
tion  of  their  oracles.    The  first  advice  which  philosophy  gave,  was  the  acquisition  of  ^'°*^""'*'°"  °'  TüSus. 
self  knowledge.    But  the  error  it  contracted  in  the  premises  was  the  merging  of  gods  under  the  caption 
and  the  world  into  one  conception.     This  religio-philosophical  religion  was  but  Slt?"^*^  °' 
guessing  at  nature.    Upon  Christian  soil  the  "knowledge  of  the  world"  (Weltweisheit)  the  church  tooK 
donned  the  garb  of  "knowledge  of  Divinity"  (Gottesgelahrtheit).    The  heaven  of  the  ündeÄ  rare.'^t'hÖ 
stars  and  the  gods  broke  to  pieces.      The  supernatural  nature  of  God  shone  forth  and  ^nouncVft^  ^""^  *** 
made  men  to  recognise  their  own  nature  as  supramundane.    The  church  taught  t> 
men  to  renounce  worldly  wisdom,  tho  fostering  the  same  sciences  which  once  had  to  antique  ideas 
vindicate  oracles,  in  order  to  make  them  subservient  to  her  own  defense.      Rem-  adh^e^to* 
nants  of  antique  ideas  were  thus  allowed  to  adhere  to  theology,  to  encumber  Christian  th^oio&y.to  mar 
knowledge,  and  to  mar  the  clearness  of  a  Christian  world-consciousness.    It  was  in  Christian 
consequence  of  the  religious  reform  that  philosophy  came  to  reconstruct  herself  upon  ^n^iäousness. 
the  basis  of  self  consciousness,  of  Descartes' "ego".    Just  as  antiquity  had  been  en-  The  Reformation 
tangled  in  the  mixture  of  God-and  world-consciousness,  and  therefrom  had  derived  [ibert^of  expLmn  *ws 
abstruse  views  of  earthly  life,  pure  and  simple;  so  were  the  Middle- Ages  enraptured  SiSonTbothGod*^^ 
by  a  fanciful  and  distorted  God-consciousness,  by  celestial  visions.  andworid-consciousness. 

Now  man  was  posited  in  the  mean,  his  import  recognised.  He  was  reinstated  in- 
to the  right  to  expand  his  thinking  capacity  in  both  directions.    Thus  light  and  air 
were  gained  for  the  liberty  of  scientific  inquiry  such  as  no  age  had  ever  enjoyed.  In  this  "Phuosophia  humana". 
fresh  atmosphere  Bacon  wrote  his  "philosophia  humana."  But  in  vain  was  the  toil-  ^^'*"- 

some  effort  to  clean  out  the  rubbish  which  vitiated  the  understanding,  because  the  gen- 
tleman was  himself  wedged  in  between  mediaeval  notions.  It  was  the  Dutch  soldier 
behind  the  stove,  who,  determined  to  disengage  himself  from  the  traditional  doc- 
trines, threw  aside  the  "idols,  which  Bacon  could  not  conjure." 

Thanks  to  Cartesius  we  now  practice  investigation  of  doctrinal  details  unpreju-  inquiry"  "'^descartm. 
diced;  we  have  an  exact  science  going  to  work  by  way  of  induction.    The  subse-  s^Sfi7resea,x*h '  "** 
quent  division  of  labor  caused  many  auxiliaries  of  scientific  research  to  become  Sem"eives.'"^' '''*°"'' 
strong  and  fruit-bearing  branches  of  the  tree  of  knowledge.  £'""  ***  •'"«''*'*'° 

The  joyful  emulation  and  stimulation  in  the  reciprocal  interaction  of  scientific  analys- 
ing has  surpassed  all  expectations.  The  diver  explores  ocean  bottoms;  the  microscopist 
measures  the  time  of  nerve  activity ;  the  astronomer  figures  out  the  velocity  of  stellar  mo-  "Chemistry  of  the 
tion,  and  analyses  the  constituent  elements  of  distant  suns.  One  example  may  illustrate  this 
division  of  scientific  labor.  France  had  been  most  inventive  in  the  field  of  chemistry,  whilst 
the  Germans  as  yet  had  entirely  neglected  it  up  to  the  beginning  of  this  century.    Now,  Ger-   ™      .    , ,  .      ^    ,      , 

.»•.  .«..  ,  Chemical  laboratories  ot 

many   possesses  laboratories  for  the  most  specific  investigations  and  experiments,    built  Germany. 
especially  for  their  several  purposes.    Besides  pharmaceutical,  we  have  the  metallurgical,  the 
technological,  chemico-physiological,  hygienical,  electrical,  biological,  and  other  laboratories. 

What  we,  however,  would  consider  as  no  more  than  advanced  intellectualism,  g^  spencer's 
Herbert  Spencer  calls  "scientific  progress."    According  to  him  it  is  "essentially  a  ^l^grelT  °*  ''"*°"**' 
more  skillful  generalisation,  which  consists  in  uniting  all  homogeneous  coexisten- 
cies  and  effects  of  phenomena  into  adequate  groups  of  conception.    One  of  the  most 
significant  compoundings  of  late  has  been  accomplished  among  the  formerly  inde- 
pendent theories  of  electricty,  magnetism  and  light." 

§  226.    As  to  the  result  and  success  of  analytical  research  there  is  no  centre-  science  cannot  dispense 
versy.    And  more  than  any  set  of  facts  do  these  results  prove  that  science  cannot  dis-  "^"^  "the  purpose-. 
pense  with  the  cognition  of  purpose.    Each  science  by  itself,  as  in  the  case  of  arts, 
aspires  to  dominion  over  matter.    Whatever  remains  in  the  dark  as  yet,  and  resists 
the  penetration  and  appropriation  of  the  mind,  is  to  become  subject  to  human  under- 
standing.   The  more  knowledge  advances  and  expands,  the  more  will  the  mere  acci-  Accidental  phenomena 

.1/.  vanish  in  the  light  of 

dental  phenomena  vanish  from  our  planet.     Where  the  minds  of  humanity  were  inductive  investigation. 
formerly  oppressed  by  inexplicable  monstrosities,  there  we  are  enabled  to  observe 


420 


AUTHORITATIVE  WORLD-THEORY  OR  SHIFTING  WORLD-CONSCIOUSNESS.     Ill  B.  Ch.  II.  § 


Man  finds  within  system  and  lawful  regularity 

himself  the  a  ^ 


With  the  intelligent  recognition  of  ruling  laws  in- 
affinities  herentin  realities  and  entities  and  corresponding  with  our  own  inner  nature,  grows 

exfs?b™t^weS?the  *^®  satisfaction  of  the  observing  mind.  Man  finds  within  himself  the  affinity  affirmed, 

necessities 
inherent  in 
thingrs  and  the 
necessity  of  his 
logic. 

Aim  of  progressive 
civilisation ;  to  displac« 
imagination.         Buckli, 

Trainii«  of  the  Intellect 
can  forestall  neither  the 
'pfey  of  the  imaginatiou 
nor  superstition. 

Imagination 


which  exists  be"t7ween  the  intrinsic  necessity  of  things  and  the  necessity  of  his  logic. 
It  is  harmony  which  makes  it  all  clear  to  him.  This  gratification  is  one  of  the  aims 
of  the  mind;  it  is  mind  manifesting  its  satisfaction  at  having  found  its  object. 

Buckle's  opinion  is,  that  the  aim  of  progressive  civilisation  consists  in  "investing  the 
intellectual  faculty  with  that  authority  which  in  the  preceding  stage  of  cultural  development 
was  claimed  by  the  imagination".  This  bespeaks  a  favorable  inclination  towards  the  purposive 
development  of  intellectual  culture.  Upon  earth,  however,  we  may  be  compelled  to  recon- 
cile ourselves  with  the  impossibility  of  ever  reaching  that  aim.  For  we  experience  that  the 
most  splendid  training  of  the  intellect  can  forestall  neither  the  play  of  the  imagination 
nor  superstition.  With  all  the  stress  put  upon  the  intellect,  superstition  is  on  the  increase 
even  to  an  alarming  degree.  We  furthermore  know  that  without  that  despised  imagina- 
tion, all  of  our  sciences  would  forever  have  to  remain  piece-meal  in  their  specific  researches. 
For  not  only  would  we  lack  the  power  to  comprehensively  arrange  the  specific  results  into 
homogeneous  and  generic  groups,  into  compound  cognitions;  but  even  specific  research 
itself  would  become  enfeebled  and  discouraged,  altho  it  is  always  urged  on  by  incitements  of 
a  more  or  less  clearly  apprehended  general  view,  which,  without  imagination,  without  the 
"creative  power  of  the  mind",  is  not  obtainable. 

Concerning  real  progress  we  may  agree  with  Macaulay.  He  seems  to  put  knowl- 
edge into  quarantine  with  the  exception  of  mathematics  and  empiric  sciences.  And 
so  much  of  progress  in  epistemology  as  Spencer's  progress  amounts  to  is  sufficient 
for  present  use. 

And  those  aiding  in  that  progress,  are  no  longer  only  a  few  sparse  individuals  or 
select  nations,as  informer  times.  The  entire  mass  of  educated  people  on  the  face  of  the 
earth  take  a  vivid  interest  in  scientific  research  and  experiments.  This  is  the  grandest 
result  and  the  undeniable  proof  of  intellectual  progress.  In  international  congresses  we 
hear  the  presidents  of  geographical  and  other  societies  from  every  continent  empha- 
sise the  unity  of  purpose  into  which  all  the  sciences  of  all  nations  are  bound  to- 
gether by  the  zeal  to  further  the  humanitarian  cause.  One  may  be  afraid  of  the  innu- 
merable departments  into  which  investigation  of  details  splits  science,  lest  the  ideal 
blessings  and  the  unity  of  human  understanding  may  suffer  from  their  selfcompla- 
cent  dogmatism  and  vociferous  pretensions.  But  we  keep  in  mind  that  a  common 
agreement  upon  a  world-theory  is  neither  possible  nor  desirable.  A  world-theory 
which  is  not  test-proof  as  to  its  consistency  and  truth  when  assailed;  and  which  could 
not  verify  itself  under  cross-examination,  deserves  to  succumb  under  the  opposition 
of  criticism.  Hence  we  may  agree  with  Bacon's  saying  that  the  human  race  cannot, 
despite  the  lack  of  an  authoritative  world-theory  ,or  from  fear  of  shifting  world-theories, 
desist  from  claming  its  right  to  master  nature,  from  taking  possession  intellectually 
of  what  has  been  bequeathed  to  it  by  divine  legacy. 

CH.  HI.    PROGRESS  IN  ^ESTHETICS. 
§  227.    Concerning  that  which  the  fine  arts  have  achieved  in  the  line  of  advance 
we  need  not  fear  severe  opposition.    A  brief  review  under  two  aspects  only  will 
suffice. 
In  three  modes  of  We  spoke  of  three  principal  modes  of  consciousness  having  become  especially 

wOTwSriM'fMhioned  cousplcuous  throughout  the  course  of  history  in  shaping  the  world-theories  governing 
the  race  in  general.  These  three  fundamental  tendencies  always  distinctly  express 
themselves  in  the  realm  of  arts.  We  refer  to  the  cognitions  of  immanency  and 
transcendency,  and  the  blending  of  both. 

It  is  unnecessary  to  investigate  again  the  rule  of  a  taste  for  the  senseless  and  the 
colossal.  Oriental  art,  including  the  sculptures  and  buildings  of  the  Siamese  and  of  the  Tol- 
tecs  with  their  style  of  bombastic  superabundance,  needs  no  further  consideration.  Neither 
is  it  necessary  to  contemplate  the  unintelligible  cameos  brought  from  Cyprus  by  Cesnola,  or 
the  drawings  of  human  figures  found  by  Schliemann  in  Hissarlik  and  Mycense.  They  are  on 
a  level  with  the  crude  attempts  to  representative  art  made  by  the  Bushmen  upon  the  rocks 
of  Africa;  or  with  those  "monuments"  upon  the  island  of  Schonen.  It  is  for  the  professional 
critics  of  art  to  entertain  themselves  with  discoveries  of  that  sort. 

The  arts  of  the  ancients  in  general  present  themselves  in  particular  groups, 
severally  marking  their  national  characteristics.  These  circles,  or  schools  of  art,  are 
classifiable  according  to  customs,  religions,  languages.    Mesopotamians,  ^Egyptians, 


Indlspensible  to  carry 
out  Spencer's  "scientfio 
progress". 


As  to  progress  In 
knowledt;e  or  rather 
epistniology,  that  much 
is  sufficient  which 
concerns  mathematics 
and  empirical  sciences. 
Hacaclat, 


General  interest  taken 
in  matters  of  scientific 
researcli  is  the  greatest 
result  of  intellectual 
advance  and  its  best 
evidence. 


Unity  of  purpose 
manifest  in  all  scientific 
quarters,  to  further  the 
cause  of 

humanitarianism. 

Specific  studies 
endanger  this 
unity  of 
understanding 
through  their 
dogmatising 
tendencies. 


Common  agreement 
upon  one  certain 
world-theory  neither 
possible  nor  desirable. 


The  human  race  cannot 
desert  from  claiming  the 
right  to  m%ster  nature, 
despite  shifting  world- 
theories.  Bacov. 


mirrored  in  the  arts: 


transcendency,  and 
blending  of  both. 

Irrelevant  are  the 
monuments  of 
bombastic  style,  of  the 
nonsensical  colossal; 
like  some  pieces  found 
by  Cmkola  and 
ScHUKMAjra. 


Marked  character  of 
Greek  art. 


HI  B.  CH.  m.  §  227.  FINE  ARTS  OF  EVANGELICAL  HUMANISM.  42t 

Hellenes  maintain  each  their  independence  beside  or  opposite  the  others  in  all  their  Heiiejiic  art 
works  of  art.  Greece  presents  "the  same  principal  ideas  and  forms  in  the  Selinuntian  ^'gospePoV**^ 
and  old  Ionic  temples  as  in  the  buildings  of  the  Alexandrian  sera",  as  Von  Reber  de-  "a<^"re". 
monstrates.     This  art  "announces  the  same  traits  of  character  in  the  Aeeinetes  The  national  character 

..,,...,,,„„  „  °  of  each  of  the  ancient 

which  we  admire  in  the  sculptures  of  Perg^mon.  nations  of  culture 

Art,  of  course,  originates  upon  a  national  basis;  but  the  proof  and  measure  of  th  s^ regpectfve^*'^ 
true  ideality  consists  in  that  perfection  which  is  immediately  understood  by  all,  and       "  ^'^ '  von  reber. 
commands  universal  and  unsolicited  acknowledgment.  Art  develops  on 

The  next  great  period  of  art  is  that  of  transcendency.  coiforms^fo^^' 

Asceticism  creates  those  distasteful,  lean  images  of  the  saints,  of  which  mentioi>  the  measu?" ?/' 
was  made.    The  human  body  in  its  beauty  of  proportion  is  as  badly  vilified  by  the  ^*s  ideality  and 
hand  of  the  sculptor  or  the  painter,  as  it  is  maltreated  in  monastic  cells  by  self-  ^^^  ^^^^^^n, 
inflicted  tortures  or  under  the  hands  of  hangmen  upon  the  rack  in  the  municipal  tor-  4ancend?ntans^ 
ture-chambers.    We  have  shown,  how  the  forms  of  consciousness  call  forth  the  ade-  j^^  ^^ 
quate  phenomena  from  the  Ganges  to  the  Orontes,  and  again  from  Byzantium  to  the  the  human  To"  n. '  ""^ 

-_,  -   ^,         _,,  7  o  J  vilified,  as  the  body  was 

Thames  and  the    EbrO.  maUreated  in  monastic 

cells  and  upon  racks  in 

The  touching'  impressions  of  intense  piety  produced  by  mediaeval  art  will  not  beguile  "J^n'^ipal  torture- 
ua  to  excuse  the  deformities  of  consciouness  which  are  of  a  far  more  serious  nature,  than 
even  the  castigations  of  the  human  body.  Paintings  lack 

_.,  ..  «,  •      ■,  ,..0  10  -.  projection,  and 

In  the  paintings  of  that  period  everything  is  figure  and  foreground ;  scenery,  nature,  pro-  realistic  background  as 


jection  are  missing.    In  those  of  the  next,  nature  is  vindicated,  as  for  instance  in  the  minne-  *he  Chinese  picture 
songs;  but  again  nothing  but  foreground  in  which  "red  clover  and  green  meadows"  prepon-  standpoints.'"^* 
derate.    Still  there  is  progress.    The  variegated  flowers  upon  the  green  sward,  painted  with 


tender  considerateness  call  forth  sentiments  of  child-like  trustfulness.    The  delicacy  of  love  the^Coiognrmlsters*is 
toward  moderate  beauty  conveys  the  secret  of  contentment  which  the  works  of  Schoengauer  ^^^  "*  scenic  effects. 
and  the  Cologne  masters  impart.    But  even  in  their  paintings  scenic  environment  and  back-   Art  representing 
ground  are  missing.    The  landscape  seems  to  have  been  considered  too  insignificant  as  to  le^t'^^ents  and  calling 
erase  the  abstractness  of  the  views  of  life.    Sacred  history  moves  in  a  despised  world.   Earthly  words  of  the  mind,  by 
concretes  are  not  worthy  of  mention.    Comprehension  of  the  secondary  good  in  nature,  land-  fändscapes  In  particular 
scapes  which  reflect  human  sentiments  and  moods  of  the  mind,  which  awaken  the  echo  of  seasons  and  under 
sympathy,  are  accomplishments  of  the  humanistic  art  of  modern  times.  nght/"  *  ™''*^ 

Modern  art  has  perfected  the  technique  requisite  to  reproduce  the  effect  of  light  and  air  denotes  the  advance  we 
which  at  last  found  recognition.    Not  even  classic  art  thought  of  this  element  of  psychical  9^^  ^°  modem 
touch  with  which  the  tones  of  the  atmosphere  affect  the  inner  life  of  man.    A  rapport  of  sen- 
timent with  nature  may  have  existed,  but  the  artistic  ability  to  express  it  by  shades  of  color  ''"^'«•d  group  of  artistic 
was  lacking.    Much  less  was  the  susceptibility  for  such  naturalness  and  refinement  of  emo- 
tion to  be  expected  from  the  monkish  artists  with  their  Buddhistic  contempt  of  nature- 
Earthly  realism  and  delight  in  the  beauty  of  nature  was  sacrificed  to  trancendental  revery. 

Understanding  the  sentiment  of  a  landscape  and  perfecting  the  means  to  express  it,  are  Rapport  between 
merits  of  modern  culture.Burkhardt  in  his"Renaissance"  has  convincingly  shown,  where  this  resuscitated"^  nature 
delight  in,  and  refined  susceptibility  for,  nature  was  resuscitated;  and  how,  with  their  culti-  Burkhardt. 

vation  modern  a-stheticism  was  introduced. 

The  pervasion  of  natural  with  the  spiritual  life  designates  the  third  period  of  art  Pervasion  of  natural 
growing  from  the  Evangelical  understanding  of  the  dual  life  and  its  projected  unifl-  theory  of  ufefbegiÄ'J 
cation   in  this  world.    Rafael    signalises  the    introduction  of  this   new   means  ^'     ^'^^'^ 
to  communicate  feelings  without  words.    In  the  beautiful  picture  of  the  Sistine  Ma-  in  the  sistine  Madonna 
donna  the  transcendental  becomes  immanent.    The  four  Evangelists  of  Duerer  show  becon^eTtamar^ent 
the  same  conception.    Thus  the  new  epoch  was  inaugurated. 

Once  worldliness  had  glorified  the  charms  of  nature;  levity  connived  at  the  sin-  The  world  assuming  an 
fulness  with  which  the  sensual  is  impregnated,  and  hypocritically  identified  nature  natuJe^w^'efgVr!'' '''*** 
with  sin  in  order  to  palliate  guilt  and  obtain  indulgence.    The  world,  outwardly  con-  TtTid  iuiHVer  T'^'* 
verted  through  the  law,  had  then  entirely  thrown  away  in  fanatical  asceticism  what 
shortly  before  had  been  deified.  The  world,  so  recently  intoxicated  with  an  enchanted 
nature,  was  now  enchained  in  a  correspondinsr  contempt  of  nature.    Eager  as  ever  to  pervl^ded*  with'the"**"^ 
dominate  externally,  according  to  twisted  ideas  of  dominion  over  nature,  man,  ^''^°^"*«ö°°^;'^«^""'''« 
despite  the  chains  and  the  assumed  air  of  contempt,  was  filled  with  the  lust  of 
temporal  possession  and  worldly  rule. 

Thrown  hither  and  thither  by  the  unmitigated  contrasts  the  world  at  last 
arrives  at  the  true  solution.    The  equilibrium  is  given  in  the  formula:  pervasion  of  wmontLThe' opposite 
the  sphere  of  the  secondary  with  the  Absolute  Good.    The  most  unequivocal  expres-  IheThought  ofTrli*^  '"^ 
sion  of  the  attempts  to  harmonise  the  opposite  views  of  life,  contained  in  the  Evan-  ^'''"*"'*y     Munkacsy. 
gelical  thought  of  true  humanity,  is  given  in  the  paintings  of  Munkacsy. 


422 


Music 

rose  to  express  ideal 
sentiments. 

Slowly  emancipating 
itself,  like  sculpture, 
architecture  and 
painting,  from  temple 
rituals  and  funeral  rites, 

Epics  of  Greece  mark 
the  first  change. 


Stringed  instruments 
enabled  music  to 
advance  from  arousing 
rhythmical  feeling  to 
the  enjoyment  of 
melody  and  the 
understanding  o£ 
harmony. 

Power  combined  in 
symphonic  compositions, 


Not  much  progress  in 
the  invention  of  new 
instruments. 


Triumph  of  this  most 
abstract  of  the  fine  arts ' 
to  remain  independent 
of  world-theories,  to 
represent  even  their 
conflicts,  and  to  make 
itseit  universally 
understood. 


"Music  testifie.s  to  the 
power  and  independence 
of  the  mind  as  against 
the  outward  fate  of 
nations."  Küqlkr. 


Universal  language  as  a 
means  of 
communicating 
thoughts  and  sentiments 
begin  to  be  realised  in 
the  fine  arts. 

Inasmuch  as  the  arts 
assist  in  bringing  the 
diversity  of  nations  to 

unity,  and  in  elevating 
individual  minds,  they 

work  in  the  interest  of 
true  humanism. 

Cultures  of  yore 
destroyed  because  the 
pursuit  of  natural 
sciences  was  fettered 
and  their  progress 
arrested,  according  to 

Ditbois-Keymoiid. 


"Disregard  of  the  moral 
factors"  in  above 
quotation  vituperated  by 

BlKHHKIX. 


Historic  "progress" 
means  that  man  rise  to 
ever  more  perfect  use  of 
liberty. 

Conuo  Hkrhhann. 


THE  MUSIC  OF  THE  FUTURE.  Ill  B.  CH.  IV.  §  229. 

§  228.  The  history  of  music  is  unable  to  demarkate  stages  of  development  simi- 
lar to  those  of  the  representative  arts.  From  the  mere  rhythmical  effect  of  drumming 
upon  crude  instruments,  music  gradually  rose  to  express  the  ideal  sentiment  nur- 
tured by  the  muses.  Equal  with  sculpture,  architecture,  and  painting  with  reference 
to  their  slow  emancipation  from  temple-wall  and  tomb,  music  could  but  tardily  sever 
itself  from  temple-ritual  and  funeral-rites,  even  after  the  first  marked  change 
wrought  by  the  epics  of  Greek  heroism. 

The  adventitious  and  abusive  fates  of  this  higher  language  of  the  soul  may  here 
be  passed  over.  It  was  only  after  the  enchanting  and  inspiring  effects  of  tones  were 
procurable  by  stringed  instruments,  that  music  could  accomplish  its  greater  feats. 
Music  then  advanced  from  rousing  a  rhythmical  feeling  to  the  enjoyment  of  the 
melody,  and  finally  to  the  understanding  of  harmony.  In  no  other  but  those  nations 
which  possessed  the  advantages  of  Christian  civilisation  were  the  powers  of  rhythm, 
melody,  and  harmony  combined  into  that  composite  architecture  of  tones  which  pro- 
phesies the  grandeur  of  the  celestial  symphony. 

New  appliances  have  facilitated  the  use  of  means  for  developing  the  educating 
and  elevating  power  of  music  despite  the  fact,  that  with  the  invention  of  new  instru 
ments  we  are  rather  in  the  arrear.  Notwithstanding  this  neglect  music  is  enabled  to 
create  tone-pictures  in  which  the  souls  of  all  men  find  their  deepest  and  their  common 
griefs  and  joys  expressed  in  an  unspeakable  manner.  It  is  the  triumph  of  art,  and 
especially  of  this  most  abstract  art,  that  it  has  become  independent  from  world- 
theories  and  is  able  to  represent  them  even  in  their  conflicts;  that  it  can  make  itself 
universally  understood;  that  the  human  feelings  stand  under  its  direct  command,  in 
its  finest  details  and  in  the  grandest  concert,  whilst  occupying  in  itself  a  position 
above  passion  and  nationality. 

We  note,  then,  also  in  the  sphere  of  sesthetical  progress  as  the  chief  result,  that 
among  the  fairly  educated  people  of  all  civilised  nations  an  understanding  of  the  in- 
ner man  was  brought  about  on  the  basis  of  the  humanistic  thought,  an  understand- 
ing of  which  ancient  aesthetics  had  not  the  faintest  idea. 

It  is  music  principally,  which,  according  to  Kugler,  together  with  art  in  general, 
"testifies  to  the  power  and  independence  of  the  mind  as  against  the  outward  fate  of 
nations." 

The  chapter  on  results  of  intellectual  progress  we  closed  with  the  probability  of 
a  universal  language.  And  behold,  this  is  beginning  already  to  be  realised  in  the 
fine  arts.  Whatever  true  art  is  endeavoring  to  express,  is  understood  everywhere.  It 
thus  becomes  instrumental  in  transmutating  the  diversity  of  nations  taking  delight 
in  the  fine  arts,  into  the  concrete  of  an  ideal  unity.  It  amounts  to  a  presentiment  of 
the  future  consummation  of  this  reunion,  yea,  to  even  more  than  that.  Until  that 
consummation  shall  transpire  art  is  justified  in  entertaining  the  hope  of  the  grandest 
future;  in  the  mean  time  it  works  for  the  benefit  of  true  humanism. 

CH.  IV.  PROGRESS  IN  RELIGIO-ETHICAL  MATTERS. 

§  229.  The  most  fascinating  part  of  our  disquisition  now  presents  itself.  The  ques- 
tion is  to  be  met,  whether  religious  and  moral  life  have  advanced  to  the  height  of 
such  results  as  have  been  gained  on  the  scope  of  physico-psychical  development. 
The  solution  of  this  enigma  may  be  prefaced  by  finding  the  answer  to  the  counter- 
question:  What  was  it  that  destroyed  the  ancient  cultures?  "Principally  the  fact," 
so  answers  Dubois-Reymond,  "that  the  natural  sciences  were  suffered  to  become  ar- 
rested in  their  progressive  march  of  cultural  evolution.  Had  not  the  ancients  neglect- 
ed to  exercise  those  faculties  by  which  an  absolute  superiority  of  the  mind  over  mat- 
ter and  crude  force  is  to  be  obtained;  had  they  not  in  religious  strifes  squandered  their 
opportunities  to  improve  practical  techniques  by  means  of  which  natural  forces  are 
made  to  serve  human  interests,  the  German  Norsemen  and  the  Mongolian  horsemen 
would  both  have  been  foiled  in  their  attacks  against  the  Roman  empire." 

Bernheim,  in  quoting  this  clever  idiosyncrasy  of  the  great  scientist,  marvels  at 
the  "utter  regardlessness  as  to  the  moral  factors  in  history"  manifest  therein. 
This,  however,  was  to  be  expected  from  the  champion  of  the  imperious  dogmatism  of 
science.  With  reference  to  the  above  quotation  as  a  deterring  example  of  onesided- 
ness,  we  are  the  more  justified  in  emphasising  morality  as  the  chief  factor  in  history. 


in  B.  CH.  IV.  §  229.  ETHICAL  ADVANCE.  423 

The  progress  of  history  must  consist  just  in  this,  as  Conrad  Herrmann  expresses  ^^^^^  intellectual 

•J.    XI-    X  ..  •  X  *       X  üi-i.       X      ,.    X      XT,.      /.  ,       .     .    , ,  progress  does  not  follow 

it,  that  "man  rises  to  an  ever  more  perfect  use  of  liberty.    In  this  formula  intellectual  *he  conditions  of  ethicai 
progress  is  combined  with  the  conditions  of  ethical  advance.    Wherever  this  blend-  cSÄa'^o"**""'^* 
ing  is  not  pursued  progress  is  not  permanent  and  is  of  mere  relative  value.    It  can- 
not then  be  said  that  the  "story  contains  a  moral." 

Lord  Acton  says:  "unless  the  ethical  sagacity  of  our  race  is  subject  to  changes  it  Jurisprudence  ha« 
remains  unable  to  advance.    What  today  is  esteemed  as  a  virtue  may  at  one  time  iatu"udes.'^"''L^RD  actok, 
have  been  deemed  a  vicious  habit;  defective  jurisprudence,  for  instance,  has  changed 
with  the  latitudes.    If  King  James  had  witches  burned,  and  if  Machiavelli  taught 
regicide  as  an  art,  then  we  ought  to  keep  in  mind  the  age  in  which  they  lived  and  let 
them  be  judged  by  their  contemporaries."    Correct.    Acton  has  in  view  social  ethics, 
that  nugatory  moralism  which  results  from  changing  world-theories  as  reflected  in  mStyShrit'laniied 
public  opinion.    Now,  do  we  not  find  almost  the  same  discrepancies  inside  the  pale  of  crvull^iion*        svbbl 
Christian  culture?    Sybel  points  them  out  in  saying:  "Neither  classic  nor  Christian 
antiquity,  neither  the  Middle-Ages  nor  the  Reformation,  took  any  offense  at  the  wild  "Social  ethics" 

•^  °  7  ^  result  changing  world- 

outrages  of  wars,  at  the  tortures  of  cool  criminal  justice,  at  the  extirpation  of  adver-  *ub7i!roTnron^''**'^''' 
saries.    In  comparison  with  barbarities  like  these  the  horrors  of  our  revolutions  and 
reactions  seem  as  child's  play.    The  thought  that  the  life  of  each  man  has  a  sig- 
nificance for,  and  is  of  consequence  to,  every  other,  has  gained  working  force  only  in 
the  last  century."    Upon  the  whole  this  judgment  against  ecclesiastical  ethics  is  Ecclesiastical  ethics  not 
correct;  for  in  the  main  they  were  but  legalistic  regulations  of  outward  deportment.  re^gaiSLSity,  i.e. 
Whatever  the  church  conserved  in  her  dogmas    had  its  reflex  in  public  opinion»  depo^ment.^  outward 
tantamount  to  the  reflection  of  the  tendencies  of  each  age  in  the  history  of  dogmatics,  church-dogmas  shaping 
Public  opinion  of  former  times  was  in  unison  with  what  the  doctrines  of  Christian  bygone'timisrnöw 
theology  imply,  which,  however,  was  generally  either  misunderstood  or  misconstrued,  christian  doctrines 
or  kept  out  of  sight  by  the  administrators  of  the  church  on  grounds  of  expediency.  S  oTssght*^  °'  ^^^*' 
The  application  of  the  truth,  as  put  up  in  general  formulas,  to  special  phases  of 
thought  and  life,  rested  in  the  discretion  of  the  church,  rested  there  imbedded  like  a 
crystal  in  an  old  rock.    After  the  right  of  private  judgment  had  been  established 
public  opinion  set  this  crystallised  thought  free,  the  generalness  of  legalism  was  dis- 
solved.   If  not  caricatured,  the  doctrinal  precept  becomes  a  vital  maxim  and  serves 
society  as  a  strengthening  element.    Its  controlling  influence  being  felt  through- 
out the  social  organism,  commotion  and  opposition  are  roused,  and  in  the  process  en-  ^, 
suing  "public  morality"  (that  which  the  Americans  call  "moral  suasion")  is  generated,  civic  moralism  of 
It  is  that  which  a  few  moments  ago,  was  called  social  morality  indiscrimination  from  "^°*'»^  suasion" 
Christian   ethics.    It  must   be  clear  that  Christianity  with  its  contents  of  truth  t?^^.    . 
cannot  be  held  responsible  for  this  rather  shiftless  morality  which  in  palpable  form  from  Christian 
is  nothing  but  the  product  of  social  commotions,  effecting,  at  its  best,  only  an  out-  ®*^^*'^- 
ward  polish  upon  the  manners  of  a  people.    That  morality  is  legalistic.    It  takes  its  ÄrSby^p'pressionto 
growth  from  custom  and  from  disgust  with  custom.  grows'^rom  iodfi"^*'"" 

A  moral  plant  of  this  kind  may  succeed.    The  possibility  cannot  be  denied  that  a  wiÄem.*''""  *^"^"'* 
system  of  moral  philosophy  may  start  out  with  personal  right  as  a  premise,  and  pro- 
ceed through  domestic  relations  and  institutions  of  state  or  organised  societies  up  to 
the  common  rights  of  humanity.    Universal  history  in  its  continuance  is  essentially  History  the  gradual 
the  gradual  realisation  of  genuine  manliness  in  all  of  man's  social  relations.    "The  maniTnessinKdli 
continual  approach  to  virtuosity  in  moral  matters  is  t vitamount  to  the  growth  of  "  *  """^ 
nature's  nobleman,  that  is,  the  growth  of  history's  ideal  of  a  man  bearing  the  feat- 
ures of  the  divine  image,"  says  Trendelenburg.  "This  growth  towards  perfection  can-  ÄorafnmtSs""''*^ 
not  thrive,  however,  unless  the  nations  mutually  complement  each  other  in  exchang-  growthTnatwe's 
ing  their  best  attainments,  temporal  and  spiritual,  and  become  willing  to  give  and  '""''^^"'^"tkendelenbubs. 
to  receive". 

Such  progress  in  mere  legalistic  morality,  however,  affects  not  the  inner  motives 
of  the  multitude.    Man  may  be  better  situated  under  the  regime  of  such  a  social  L^r^u^afflcÄan 
morality  and  urbanity,  but  this  does  not  say  that  he  has  become  better  in  himself.       S  p^erflaS! Vbe'*"^ 

Upon  the  scaffolding  of  a  tower  in  course  of  construction,  one  or  a  few  may  stand  t^b^^me  bttter""*  "*** 
higher  than  those  working  about  its  base.    Up  there  not  many  have  room;  up  there 
the  view  is  wider,  and  the  wages,  perhaps,  are  higher,  too.    But  that  one,  of  those  few 


424 


DANGERS  TO  MORALITY. 


Ill  B.  Ch.  IV.  §  229. 


Does  human  happiness 
keep  pace  with  refiement 
of  manners? 


Samples  of  social,  or 
utilitarian,  moralism  in 
the  civilised  nations  of 
Christendom. 


On  the  whole  the 
reproach  of  moral 
retrofrression  can  not  be 
substantiated. 


A  set-oif  against  the 
increase  of  legalistic 
wickedness  consisting 
«f  many  signs  of 
philanthropic 
«nthusiasm. 

Dangers  imminent  to 
public  morality  lie  in 
the  moral  unconcern 
and  mental  apathy  of 
nations  growing  old 


A  certain  progress  of 
utilitarian,  civic 
morality  is  evident. 


Ethics  roots  in  religion. 


Symposium  on  that 
question  between 
Manning,  Huxley, 
Glxdstoi«,  Tynball,  etc. 


Only  renewal  of  the 
inner  Christo-^entric 
life  will  avail  against 
the  dangers  threatening 
our  sensitive  state- 
organism. 


Kedeeming  feature"!  of 
uperflcial  morality. 


above  the  rest  of  his  fellow-laborers  is  not  therefore  the  more  virtuous.    Such  is 
exactly  the  case  in  the  history  of  advancing  civilisation. 

In  the  face  of  this  fact  the  question  is  decided  already,  whether  with  that  kind 
of  moral  progress  the  happiness  of  man  keeps  pace.  Again  we  may  be  reminded  even 
of  the  dangers  which  necessarily  become  ever  more  menacing,  of  the  dangers  lurking 
beneath  the  thin,  glittering  surface  of  a  public  morality,  that  is,  from  beneath  the 
good  manners  of  refined  training. 

Because  people  are  civilised,  any  sign  of  an  upheaval  of  domestic  society  is 
frowned  iown,  tho  the  same  thing  in  a  foreign  country,  in  China,  for  instance,  may 
be  deemed  justifiable  because  of  being  conducive,  perhaps,  to  the  Christianising  of 
that  empire.  A  revolution  in  Italy  is  encouraged,  because  it  might  weaken  hierarchal 
supremacy.  We  reconcile  ourselves  to  a  war  between  two  nations,  or  to  an  insur- 
rection in  Brazil  or  Cuba,  because  we  expect  our  export  to  become  stimulated 
thereby. 

The  hypocrisy  of  the  social  morality  of  utilitarianism  and  expediency  has  in- 
creased with  the  facilities  to  legalise  shrewd  acts  of  dishonesty  by  judicial  techni- 
•calities.  Nevertheless,  thera  is  no  default  or  decline  of  moral  progress,  such  as  it  is. 
It  cannot  be  said  that  the  seeming  increase  of  crimes  or  the  real  increase  of  disso- 
luteness would  in  themselves  prove  retrogression.  It  might  prove  that  the  meshes  of 
criminal  justice  are  knitted  somewhat  looser.  But  the  increase  is  explained  by  the 
fact  that  criminals  are  caught  more  easily  than  ever  before,  and  that  publication 
brings  vicious  actions  speedily  to  general  notice.  Statistics  are  being  perfected  so  as  to 
counteract  evils.  As  a  set-off  against  the  increase  of  modern,  legalistic  wickedness 
we  may  point  to  many  signs  in  proof  of  philanthropic  enthusiasm,  as  for  instance 
the  greater  care  taken  of  the  poor  and  fallen  ones  than  in  times  past,  or  the  contri- 
butions taken  up  to  mitigate  the  miseries  into  which  districts  may  be  plunged  at  any 
moment.  The  real  impediments  to  progress,  the  dangers  threatening  public  mo- 
rality lie,  as  previously  discussed,  in  the  satiety  with  overdone  social  differentiation, 
in  the  moral  unconcern,  mental  lassitude,  and  apathy  of  nations  growing  old. 

Yet  on  the  whole  we  repeat,  taken  collectively,  that  a  certain  progress,  call  it 
"public  suasion,"  legalistic,  civic  or  utilitarian  morality  is  not  only  possible  but  a 
fact  in  evidence. 

In  Russia  and  Hungary  the  ten  souls,  averaging  to  a  square  mile,  live  in  greater 
destitution  than  the  hundreds  in  Belgium.  This  is  equivalent  to  the  fact  that  the  farmer 
of  today  enjoys  more  comfort  than  the  baron  of  A.  D.  1500.  Aud  it  is  true  that  this 
external  comfort,  and  security  of  person,  protected  by  all  kinds  of  insurance,  is  not 
on  the  decline;  that  good  manners  and  social  order  are,  on  the  whole,  more  respected; 
that  the  civilised  nations  under  the  sway  of  legalistic  morality  are  unconsciously 
advancing  from  a  state  of  natural  bondage  to  more  and  more  independence  of  mind. 
The  improvement  of  state  institutions  is  evidence  of  this  advance  and  warrant  its 
continuity.  The  state  represents,  as  Dahlmann  said,  "the  accumulated  savings  of 
human  experiences  and  disposes  of  the  power  implied  in  that  wealth,  which  ought  to  be 
applied  in  conducting  the  weaker  majority  of  the  race  to  higher  stages  of  civilisation." 

Nothwithstanding  this  admission  we  deliberately  assert  that  an  ethical  progress 
in  the  proper  sense,  correllative  with  religious  progress  seizing  all  the  marching 
columns  of  mankind  ought  /lot  to  be  expected,  for  progress  after  the  manner  in 
which  mere  morality  advances  is  here  impossible.  Ethics  roots  in  religion.  The 
symposium  between  Huxley,  Manning,  Salisbury,  Gladstone,  Tyndall,  etc.,  published  in 
1876  has  made  this  incontrovertible.  And  religion,  which  in  reality  must  be  Christo- 
centric,  cannot  be  trained  into  anybody,  cannot  be  inherited.  It  needs  to  be  generated 
anew  in  each  person  as  pneumatic  life.  Nothing  else  will  avail  to  subdue  those  pas- 
sions which  ever  afresh  threaten  to  subvert  the  progress  of  mere  legalistic  morality, 
which  constantly  endanger  our  modern  sensitive  state-organism  based  upon  grounds 
easily  shaken  by  partisan  politics,  underneath  which  uproarious  intentions  are  aglow. 

§  230.  Whilst  we  put  the  upward  wave-lines  of  moral  advance  upon  record,  and 
give  it  due  credit  upon  statistical  tables,  we  dare  not  ignore  the  sinking  waves  of  the 
religio-ethical  movement.    This  is  being  run  down  because  it  does  not  run  out  into 


in  B.  Ch.  IV.  §  230.  KEGENERATION.— KANT.  425 

generalities  and  into  the  masses,  but  goes  soliciting  person  by  person  to  move  up-  ^"*y  '*'  **>«  m<Kiern 
wards.    Laurent  demonstrates  "that  the  idea  of  progress  ought  to  become  manifest  in  progress  in  r^s  et"  to*" 
respect  to  religiousness  as  well  as  in  regard  to  morality  and  sociology."  become  manifJ^t'^*** 

Is  then,  this  demand  insisted  upon,  tho  we  found  compliance  to  it  impossible?  ""ch  as  in  socio^|y.^^ 
Does  it  not  sound  as  if  issuing  from  the  desire  to  drag  religion,  too,  into  the  service  of 

,.,..        .        .  n      rw^  ..,.,.  .   ,  .  ■.    J        ,  ,  .  The  inner  source  and 

mere  utilitarianism?    True  civilisation  can  not  be  said  to  develop  in  the  usual  sense  condition  of  the 
of  the  term,  as  culture  does.    It  always  proceeds  invisibly  from  the  depth  of  con-  cfvlDon,  cannot  b« 

,.,.  --  ^,  ,j.,,,,.  .  said  to  develop. 

sciousness,  and  is  conditioned  by  the  attitude  this  consciousness  takes  toward  the 
Supreme  Good.  It  proceeds  unconsciously  inasmuch  as  thought  is  determinated  and 
modified  by  the  desire  of  the  will  and  according  to  the  more  or  less  intensity  of  the 
feeling  of  quality. 

Considering  the  religious  problem  in  its  bearing  upon  public,  that  is,  social,  problem:  religion  as 
legalistic,  utilitarian,  or  political  morality,  the  first  question  to  be  met  is,  whether  ^«^"-^  "P"'"-»"^''»«'»- 
religious  improvement  does   not  follow  from  the  progress  so  far  discussed  and 
acknowledged. 

We  are  obliged  to  Kant  for  a  sentence  corroborating  our  view,  which  we  may  be  "Man  apt  to  be  restored 

"  .  ,   .  .     .  to  true  humanity  by  a 

allowed  to  put  in  evidence.    In  his  "Religion  mside  the  limits  of  pure  reason,"  he  ^.°*  "generation». ^ 
concedes  that  "man  is  apt  to  be  restored  to  true  humanity,  to  become  a  new  man  only  by  a       ' 
sort  of  regeneration,  which  is  tantamount  to  a  change  of  heart,  equivalent  to  a  renovation." 

In  this  conclusion  Kant  crowns  all  that  we  have  previously  marked  down  concern-  phnosophy.' 

ing  this  matter.    It  was  clear  to  Kant,  the  specialist  of  the  topic  under  discussion, 

that  a  moral  community  in  the  proper  sense  could  be  conceived  by  thought  in  no  other  a  moral  community  no* 

form  than  »'as  a  people  under  rule  of  divine  laws."    These  laws,  he  further  argues,  must  TpeoS^undirruh^ot 

stand  secure  against  arbitrariness,  must  stand  above  human  authority.    "Hence  an '^''''°^^*'^"' 

ethical  commonwealth  can  not  possibly  be  thought  of,  unless  it  be  conceived  as  a 

people  governed  and  becoming  civilised  by  divine  laws,  as  a  people  of  God."  laws  secure  against 

"Properly,"  Kant  adds,  "this  can  only  be  initiated  by  God  himself.    To  found  a  aw  hümIL' auttiority. 
moral  people  of  God  is  a  work  whose  accomplishment  is  to  be  expected  from  God  The  postulates  of  Kant-, 
alone,  not  from  man."    This  is  what  Kant's  reason  demands.    We  have  seen  previous  etilicore^iiS^", 
to  this,  that  as  members  of  this  community  new  personalities  are  required,  renewed  -Sopment»  of 
by  "a  kind  of  regeneration."    What  does  this  imply?  civilisation. 

With  reference  to  what  has  been  said  about  the  renewal  of  man  we  may  thus  Jenewai  ol man'!*' 
further  illustrate  the  matter:  Standing  before  the  showcase  of  a  jewelry  store,  we  utnitarianmoraiismand 
admire  the  display  of  crystals  and  precious  stones  in  all  possible  colors  of  the  purest  '=""^'^«  '■t^  "^  religion 

•^  ■^  -^  compared  to  dazzling 

dye.    The  collection  reminds  us  of  what  our  juvenile  booklets  contained  about  fairy  i»«*  «o^  jewels. 
gardens.    We  perceive  the  mysteries  of  the  mineral  kingdom  before  us  in  palpable  Lacking  the  cordiality 
forms;  formerly  hidden  in  dark  cavities  they  are  now  disclosed  to  us.    Their  glitter-  LntrVs't  nTustrlted by 
ing  splendor  dazzles  the  eye,  but  warm  our  emotion  they  cannot.    These  cold  stones  p^JectourcoftaÄT  * 
represent  the  most  delicate  phenomena  of  the  largest  kingdom  of  nature  apart  from  ^'"^^  '^'^'^  ^'"^"• 
the  exquisite  art  by  which  they  were  ground,  polished  and  mounted.    Yet  they  can  faAy  o"  -ethiw«  and 
exert  no  higher  influence  than  to  excite  cold  curiosity  and,  perhaps,  covetousness  or  örth^distiÄn  ot*"^ 
envy.  They  are  all  deficient  in  one  thing,  the  inner  life.  In  an  analogous  sense  the  same  äuure!'"''  *'°"     $  s. 
thing  is  lacking  in  the  realm  of  the  political,  legalistic  morality  of  the  natural  unre- 
generated  man,  sometime  identified  with  "natural  religion."    That  morality  consists  Natural  or 
of  the  polish  of  the  fashionable,  the  "accomplished"  or  the  "cultured"  people  and  is  m^ailty^hi  aiMts 
artistically  mounted  upon  calculating  or  affected  politeness;  notwithstanding  certain  «ceed  the  reaTm  Tth«** 
brilliancy  or  even  natural  bonhomie,  at  its  best,  it  is  bare  of  genuine  cordiality,  bare  ^^"""^  ""^^ 
of  the  pneumatic  inner  life.  Legalistic  and  utilitarian  humanitarianism  cannot  even  SvloÄnedi'u*^"''* 
pass  as  an  imitation  of  this  inner  life,  much  less  take  its  place  as  a  sort  of  surrogate.  ÄgrinAuence  a*nd 

As  a  matter  of  course  this  formative  life  from  above  proceeds  in  the  diagonal  to  cSanl^, 
the  processes  under  mere  natural  conditions.     It  begins  with  the  ego  becoming  the  effects  being  but 
reminded  of  its  selfhood  and  destiny,  being  inwardly  drawn,  and  feeling  itself  to  be  ^everopmen^""'^ 
known  by  the  personal  God  with  whom  the  ego  knows  that  He  is  on  speaking  terms,  rising  from  beiow; 
It    grows   into    the   comprehension   of   the    perverted    condition  of  things  and  iuL*S  Yict^H^!' °  §17. 
of  the  ego,  and  discovers  that  in  consequence  of  this  perversion,  this  very  ego  had  The  new  iife  from 
haughtily  raised  itself  to  an  imagined  central  position.    For  this  reason  the  new  life  "^""'^ 
tinder  the  renewal  of  self  consciousness,  begins  with  self  knowledge.  The  ego,  breaking  upro/iü".**'*'*'^''''**'' 
down  under  its  presumptuous  aspirations,  allows  itself  to  be  transmitted  to  a  higher 


426 


MAN'S  MEMBERSHIP  WITH  THE  MEDIATOR. 


m  B.  Ch.  IV.  §  231. 


Position  of  the  ego  in  a 
higher  organism 


in  counter  position  to 

the  organised  opposition   Wltll 

of  "the  world", 


relinquishing  selfglory, 
denying  itself  the 
glory  of  the  world. 

New  cognitions  as  to 
the  ego  and  the  world, 

prepare  for  the 
conception  of  Grace, 

for  a  new  form  of 
God -consciousness 
always  divined  in  the 
lowest  state. 

Experimental  or 
rather  empirical 
religion. 

Han 

finds  himself 

assured  of  realising  his 
destiny. 


organism,  disavowing  its  selfishness  and  wrong  selfassertion.    Thus  the  ego  becomes 
an  organ,  a  member.    And  from  this  new  position  it  engages  at  once  in  a  settlement 
the  wide   world,  that  is,    with    the    organised  opposition   to   the   spiritual 
counterpart,  and  its  oppressive,  degrading  impositions.    The  ego  breaks,  as  formerly 
with  its  selfglory,  so  now  with  the  seductive  glory  of  the  world.    It  experiences  a 
great  change  in  its  world-consciousness.    And  through  both  these  new  cognitions, 
after  relinquishing  selfishness  in  principle,  there  looms  up  and  grows  brighter  and 
brighter  the  conception  of  Grace,  that  form  of  God-consciousness  so  different  from  all 
that  had  been  thought  of  before,  but  which  internally  always  had  lain  dormant  as  an 
unaccountable  divination.    It  is  now  clearly  recognised  that  it  was  this  divination 
and  Grace  in  which  the  process  of  regeneration  commenced,  illumining  the  soul  in 
its  totality  like  a  solemn  and  silent  sunrise,  and  shedding  transparent  light  through 
the  whole  person  now  knowing  itself  to  have  been  inwardly  apprehended  by  God. 
This  consciousness  of  God  and  Grace  also  closes  the  progress  of  renewal.    Man  finds 
himself  to  become  ever  more  deeply  attached  to,  and  to  be  ever  more  vitally  incorpor- 
ated into,  the  Head  and  Mediator  and  Savior.    Man  virtually  finds  himself  resting  upon, 
and  trusting  in,  and  being  supported  by,  Him— finds  himself  the  more  independent 
from  the  world  and  liberated  from  his  own  selfishness;  finds  himself  safe  and  secure 
in  the  realisation  of  his  destiny.    Trying  to  describe  the  inner  life  of  the  "regenera- 
ted" person  of  man  in  the  full  sense  of  the  word,  we  could  only  repeat  ourselves  with- 
out becoming  any  the  better  understood  by  those,  who  for  reasons  well  known  to  them- 
selves, have  not  as  yet  had  those  experiences.    Suffice  it  to  subsume  that  this  new 
man,  whilst  serving  out  his  time,  already  stands  ruling  above  it  in  the  sphere  of  eter- 
nity, until  he  is  to  be  fully  transmitted  into  the  form  of  eternal  existence.    His  inner 
life  as  concealed  in  the  present  state  is  supernatural,  is  peace  and  equanimity— it  is 
glory,  that  is,  beauty  in  its  completion. 

Moralism  and  ethics  have  to  be  distinguished  from  one  another  just  as  their 
respective  products,  culture  and  civilisation  differ  as  to  their  origin,  nature  and  suc- 
cess. In  order  to  illustrate  the  contrast  let  us  look  down  upon  a  simple  wild  flower 
decorating  the  borders  between  the  woods  and  the  heather.  By  a  mystery,  we  call  it 
life,  material  substance  was  here  elevated  to  its  highest  glory,  which,  as  compared 
with  the  splendor  of  the  precious  crystal  or  the  star,  is  a  miracle.  It  was  life, 
mysteriously  interceding  and  animating  inorganic  matter,  which  led  the  little  wild 
flower  up  into  its  own  wondrous  world,  into  the  company  of  most  select  associates. 

That  which  causes  the  contrasting  beauties  of  the  crystal  and  the  flora,  also  con- 
stitutes the  difference  between  the  fame  of  the  natural-moral  and  the  glory  of  the 
mystical  new  life.  This  intellectual  morality  is  a  utilitarian  graduation  of  all 
which  is  good,  and  true,  and  beautiful  in  the  realm  of  the  secondary  good.  These 
natural  ideas  with  all  their  influences  upon  the  formation  of  public  life  in  a  general 
way  would  not  have  obtained  their  present  recognisance  if  it  had  not  been  for  the 
benign  influences  of  Christianity.  Altho  shaped  under  religious  patronage  these 
ideals  are  but  the  result  of  a  slow  development  from  below,  the  products  of  long 
series  of  adjustments  and  traditional  habits.  Whilst  on  the  contrary  that  which  the 
Church  understands  and  means  by  the  "mystery  of  godliness"  is  a  new  life,  the  mir- 
acle of  "regeneration",  forming  the  soil  which  alone  yields  Christianised  culture,  i.  e, 
civilisation. 

§  231.  No  further  than  the  community  of  the  "Regenerated"  lies  potent  within 
the  present  preparatory  forms  of  social  life,  can  it  assume  visible  outlines.  This  is 
the  reason  why  the  history  of  this  community  as  to  its  extensiveness  appears  as  if  it 

«taintlTg but*^ Imtii"''  had  sustalucd  continual  defeat  and  as  being  on  the  decline.  The  fact  is,  that  in  pro- 
portion to  the  expanse  of  cultural  progress,  to  the  spreading  out  of  civilisation, 
the  intensive  power  of  religious  spirituality  is,  as  far  as  numbers  go,  taking  a  down- 
ward course,  is  at  least  restricted  to  a  small  minority.  The  extent  of  that  domain  in 
which  the  spirit  under  manifestations  of  true  God-consciousness  holds  sway,  visibly 

^sumednäm;"^ "*^'  dimluishes  in  comparison  with  the  spread  of  intellectual  and  politico-moral  culture, 
with  the  spread  of  modern  world-consciousness  now  going  under  the  name  of  Chris- 
tian civilisation.    Along  the  wave-line  of  this  culture,  commencing  in  the  Orient  and 


Reason  for  the  fact  that 
"religious  progress''  is 
on  the  decline. 


Under  the  aspect  of 
extensiveness  the 
history  of  the  new 
organism  appears  as  a 
perpetual  defeat, 

seems,  despite  or 
because  of  its  intensive 
power,  so  far  as 


minority,  if  it  comes  to 
»iiting. 

The  spatial  extent  of 
the  domain  of  tr\ie 
God -consciousness 
diminishes,  always  in 
the  measure  as  politico- 


Christian  civilisation, 
spreads  out. 


HI  B.  CH.  IV.  §  231.         EXTENSION  OF  CULTÜEE;  INTENSITY  OF  RELIGIOUSNESS.  427 

running  over  Athens  to  the  present  age,  we  observe  the  line  of  spiritual  advance  fall-  broadi'nrthit^orirrvrce 
ing  behind.    The  one  sphere  of  dominion  broadens  in  extent,  whilst  the  other,  the  fn  externl'iTn.cnsion» 
sphere  of  service,  narrows  down  to  invisible  intensity.  SLns'lty  *°  '"'''"^^* 

The  God-idea  belongs  to  the  original  consciousness  of  man  and  is  therefore  com- 
mon to  all.    This  being  the  fact  it  seems  to  follow,  that  every  culture  should  rest  upon  pL"rt  ÄJcmildousnes. 
cult,  that  is,  upon  the  cultivation  of  this  consciousness.  Indeed,  the  diversity  of  labor,  culture  *"' 
education,  and  organisation,  into  which  humanity  has  differentiated  itself,  ought  cuiiig'^'*"''"" 
to  have  been  supported  and  illumined  by  this  idea.    For  reasons  of  the  inner  differ-  IdeaTnÄit""''^"'** 
ence  between  the  moral  and  the  religious  sense,  this  was  not  the  case,  tho  both  are  consciousness. 
designed  to  approach  toward  one  another  and  merge  in  final  unification.  ignorance  a«  to  the 

The  ancient  theocracies  attempted  to  force  unification  of  the  two  forms  of  con-  between  the  moral  and 
sciousness,  of  the  ethical  and  religious  issues.    The  attempts  at  forced  unification  re-  causes  thenegiecTot 

..,.        .,  ,..  ,.«..  ,  ,  i.j.        .  If,  J.        .         -i  ••  harmonising  culture  and 

suited  in  the  religious  life  being  rendered  political  and  diplomatic,  in  its  remaining  cuit"s,  morality  and 

.,,,,..,    T,        ^,  ,  J.      p  .  •/.  .L        \t  -1  religiousness,  God-and 

interlocked  with  the  thought  of  compressive  uniformity,    very  soon,  however,  symp-  worm-consciousness, 
toms  of  the  separation  of  the  ethico-political  from  the  religious  institutions  became  meige.^'^ 
noticeable.    The  philosophical  sects  of  India,  the  "mysteries,"  the  Orphikans  and  Py-  Theocracies  attempted 
thagorsens  of  Europe,  the  mode  of  keeping  a  priesthood  and  kingship  apart  in  the  &  uniformity''*'"'*'"'' 
mosaic  theocracy  not  to  be  forgotten,  are  the  signs  that  political  formations  and  relig-  Religious  and  political 
ious  thought  no  longer  covered  each  other.  In  the  seras  of  Christianity  the  separation  I'^fe^jo  be  leS^ 
of  the  ecclesiastical  from  the  political  organisation  was  felt  to  be  a  necessity  and  ««?"'»*«• 
was  finally,  tho  only  in  principle,  carried  out.  political  formations  and 

•' '  ^  XT  X-      7  religions  thought 

That  is  to  say,  that  religious  ardor  no  longer  warms  up  the  political  bodies  of  ^eased  to  cover  each 
nations.    Religiousness  has  withdrawn  into  closer  quarters,  so  as  to  be  able  to  retain 
its  intensity.    The  extremities  of  the  body  politic  become  free,  and  have  rather  grown  caK^outln^thr^'^ 

,  -   .  ,    ,  ,.     .  Reformation. 

cold  m  regard  to  religion. 


It  is  only  for  the  sake  of  truth,  not  from  pleasure  in  reproach,  to  be  reiterated  that 


Political  organisms 
ceased  to  be  animated 
by  religious  ardor; 
thdrew 
iers  in  o 
;  intensity. 


the  majority  of  the  functionaries  representing  the  cause  of  God-consciousness  are  in  ^^^^^-^^^  withdrew  into 
a  great  measure  responsible  for  this  state  of  things,  which  made  the  final  separation  ä^retaln  us*^nV"  °"*" 
of  the  church  from  the  state  a  historic  necessity.    In  its  results  this  rejection  of  the  „  ,  .    .  . 

.     .  Ecclesiastical 

••government  of  religion   accrued  to  the  advantage  of  ethico-social  progress;  for  thus  functionaries  in  a 

'^  ».  1  -r~.  .  measure  responsible  for 

alone  could  freedom  in  general  be  preserved.    Deplorable  as  it  is,  the  course  of  relig-  *^^^t^^!="'^"'**'°"  °' 
iousness  as  an  all  pervading  and  solvent  principle  is,  to  outward  observation,  on  the 
decline,  the  more  the  nations  partake  of  the  modern  cultural  progressiveness.  As  the  separation 
metals  oxidise  when  exposed  to  the  air,  so  Christianity  becomes  indiscernible  to  the  afid^stlte*'**"^^^ 
worldly-minded  as  soon  as  the  breath  of  worldliness  touches  it.  Natrium,  the  essence  advantageous  ^rthe 
of  salt  of  which  Jesus  spake  more  than  parabolically,  in  illustration  of  the  genuine  preservation  of  freedom. 
congregation,  is  for  this  very  reason  visible  scarcely  for  a  moment.  Religiousness  on  the 

'=><=>'  "  "  decline,  to  outward 

And  as  corrosion  proceeds  toward  the  interior  where  the  sterling  quality  of  the  observation. 
core  alone  remains,  in  order  to  lend  its  strength  to  the  whole,  and  to  bear  up  the  rot-  The  "invisible  church- 
ting  crust:  so  is  the  invisible  strength  of  the  church  to  be  protected  by  a  certain  ap-  represented  by  the 
pearance  which  is  not  intended  to  be  attractive  to  the  uninitiated  mind,  that  ever  wh[ch'musträte*s «!" 
allows  itself  to  be  misled  by  outward  appearances.    This  observation  leads  us  to  find  cS^.'thoseeminViy 
the  true  exegesis  of  Daniel's  vision.  ittS""*''*" "" 

The  primitive  Church  and  the  annal-writers  of  the  Middle-Ages  interpreted  interpretation  of 
Daniel's  image  of  the  monarchies  in  their  way  correctly  enough  as  inverted  progress  monarchies»''.^*  °  §  ns. 
and  increasing  decay  of  worldly  power— neglecting  only  the  consideration  as  to  the 
cause,  the  profanation  of  culture. 

Once  more  we  have  traced  the  two  lines  into  which  the  original  unity  of  con- 
sciousness was  split  asunder.  More  than  once  we  have  shown  how  and  why  the  parts 
had  been  intended  to  permeate  and  pervade  each  other  and  finally  to  reunite.  The 
proto-type  of  this  intent  was  manifest  in  a  sufficiently  clear  manner. 

When  the  Apostle  upon  the  Areopagus  adopted  the  word  of  the  pagan  poet  "for 
we  are  also  his  offspring",  he  bent  back  the  line  of  worldly  culture  pursuing  the  one-  ar^eopagÄnd  back  the 
sided  conception  of  the  thought  of  humanity  into  line  with  the  proper  concept  of  the  into  un^with^piopeT  ** 
thought  of  true  humanism.    He  showed  that  worldly  morality  ought  to  return  to  and  *'''"''^''*°    "'"^'"  §120. 
unite  with  the  religious  affluence  from  the  the  common  source,  in  order  to  attain  to  unification  of  religious 
the  state  of  real  virtue,  harmony,  and  peacefulness.  He  projected  a  future  unification  Ss!*^'*'*''^"^'*"'*^ 
of  culture  and  cultus,  of  the  religious  and  the  ethico-political  (or  social)  issues  and 


428 


The  world's  entering 
into  the  state  of 
perfection  frustrated  by 
the  Bad. 


Phenomena  of  a 
demoniac  nature. 

tfOHTEQAZZA.  S  50. 


Destruction  ofSatan's 

hiding  place,  of  that 

which 

"ought  not  to  be". 

Carltlb. 


Principal  factor 
of  the  Bad  to  be 
ejected. 


This  factor  to  be 
perceived  as  a  personal 
will  in  distinction  from 
the  human, 


Aim  of  history  projected 
in  man  and  through 
him  to  be  realised. 


All  human 
prospensities 
come  to  be 
dissolved 

W.  V.  Humboldt. 

§  117,  168,  176,  185, 
202.  205. 

The  full 

realisation  of  the 
thought 

projected  in  man 
*'in  every  respect, 
in  all  forms  in 
which  the  finite 
is  apt  to  conform 
itself"  involves 
the  equalisation 
of  the  ideal  with 
the  real. 

Additional 
considerations  to 
former  thoughts  about 
the  completion  of  the 
physical  universe 
world.  1 204. 


The  sublimity  of 
human  nature 
not  fully 
exhibited  unless 
the  entire 
visible  universe 
is  recognised  as 
belongrin^  to 
man. 


THE  BAD  PUBLICLY  TO  BE  ADJUDGED.  Ill  B.  CH.  V.  §  232. 

institutes,  pursuant  to  the  preordained  aims  and  ends  of  historic  advance  towards 
true  civilisation.  In  this  sense,  which  is  also  that  of  Dorner's  Ethics,  we  work  for 
the  development  of  the  moral  sense  in  unison  with  the  religious  on  separate,  but 
converging  lines.  For  Paul,  and  Herder,  and  Dorner  agree,  that  "religion  means  the 
highest  degree  of  humanism  possible  to  be  obtained  by  man." 

CH.  V.    THE  WORLD  IN  THE  STATE  OF  PERFECTION. 

§  232.  "Common  sense  and  wit  have  indeed  incarnated  a  great  truth  in  the  term 
of  devil,"  says  Montegazza.  This  exclamation  he  made  at  the  sight  of  the  wellfed 
apes  in  a  Hindoo  temple— in  their  bathing  pond— and  of  the  gilded  image  of  a 
gigantic  monkey  which  the  sanctuary  incloses.  '  These  remarks  we  mean  to  utilise 
in  considering  the  consummation  of  the  world's  development  after  the  manner  in 
which  we  spoke  of  its  judgment.  In  the  transmutation  of  the  world  into  the  state 
of  perfection,  our  concept  of  its  government  will  become  verified  and  all  the  causes 
pending  ip  the  highest  court  will  show  justice  to  come  out  triumphant  at  last. 
«'Altho,"  says  Carlyle,  "the  world  in  which  we  live  does  not  belong  to  Satan,  yet 
at  bottom  he  always  occupies  room  in  it  somehow,  from  whence  to  break  forth  now 
and  then." 

This  is  the  unsophisticated  and  unphilosophical  apperception  of  that  basest 
factor  in  history,  which  has  been  tolerated  for  the  time  being  to  obtrude  himself  upon 
and  to  muffle  himself  in  history. 

It  has  been  demonstrated,  how  at  the  final  manifestation  of  the  ideal  proto-type  of 
history,  the  principal  factor  of  the  Bad,  that  which  "ought  not  to  be,"  phosphorescing 
forth  from  the  dark,  will  be  ejected  from  the  world  of  men. 

We  deemed  it  a  demand  of  logic,  that  this  principle  is  to  be  conceived  as  con- 
centrated in  a  personal  will.  Only  thus  are  we  able  to  discriminate  between  the 
demoniac  will  and  that  of  the  human  personality,  and  to  charge  the  seductive  insti- 
gation to  an  entity  of  the  spiritual  world,  which  finally  is  to  be  expelled  from  the 
realm  of  the  secondary  good  at  the  time  of  its  elevation  into  the  realm  of  the 
Supreme  Good. 

"The  aim  of  history  cannot  but  lie  in  the  realisation  of  that  thought  which  is 
fully  objectivised  or  projected  in  man,  and  is  to  be  realised  through  man  in  every 
respect  and  to  all  those  forms  to  which  the  finite  is  apt  to  conform  itself,  for  being 
taken  up  by,  and  to  be  assimilated  into,  the  ideal".  In  another  place  W.  v.  Humboldt 
adds,  "that  the  diversified  divulgation  of  the  powers  of  the  human  mind  must  be  the 
object  which  history  aspires  to  render  manifest".  This  conclusion  is  clothed  in 
somewhat  misty  language.  But  we  have  already  become  informed  as  to  the  essential 
truth  contained  in  Humboldt's  postulate,  at  the  time  when  we  demonstrated  the  com- 
plete revelation  of  every  faculty  and  function  of  the  human  mind  as  the  goal  of  his- 
tory.   One  circumstance, ^however,  remains  to  engage  our  attention  for  an  hour. 

The  full  realisation  o*f  the  thought  projected  in  man  "in  every  respect,  in  all 
forms  in  which  the  finite  is  apt  to  conform  itself",  involves  the  equalisation  of  the 
real  as  a  physical  entity  with  the  ideal,  involves  the  merging  of  both.  We  keep  in 
mind  that,  as  regards  the  transformation  of  the  physical  world  into  the  state  of  per- 
fection, "the  world  of  man"  solely  was  under  our  focus.  We  have  now  only  to  go  one 
step  further,  a  step  for  which,  at  the  previous  contemplation  of  the  final  completion 
of  the  physical  world,  we  were  not  quite  prepared.  In  so  much  as  the  minds  of  phil- 
osophers had  been  engaged  with  a  multiplicity  of  worlds,  they  lost  themselves  in 
unveiling  suppositions.  This  will  be  the  case  always,  whenever  human  nature  is  not 
properly  conceived  in  its  sublimity— which  fatal  neglect  consists  in  not  recognising 
the  entire  visible  universe  as  belonging  to  man  in  the  manner  as  the  pedestal 
belongs  to  the  statue. 

The  cosmos  is  involved  in  the  fate  of  man,who  is  appointed  to  be  its  lord  and  mas- 
ter. With  his  appearance  nature's  development  was  arrested;  failing  in  his  destina- 
tion nature  declined  to  respond  to  all  his  requests  and  desires,  and  became  antag- 
onistic to  his  pretensions.  Man  being  restored,  his  environments  rise  with  him.  Man's 
redemption  means  nature's  reconciliation.  His  calling  upon  earth  preeminently 
includes  the  duty  to  redeem  nature  by  improving  and  elevating  it  along  with 
his  own  self  cultivation.    This  is  almost  entirely  conditioned  by  close  observation  of 


til  B.  Ch.  V.  §  233.  CELESTIAL  UNIFICATION.  429 

its  relations  to  him  and  of  his  duty  towards  it.  It  is  entrusted  to  his  care  and  becomes  Reasons  for  the 
readjusted  in  its  subservience  to  him  until,  sequent  to  the  crisis  of  physical  creation  the^cosmos^is** 
in  its  totality,  it  is  bound  to  conform  to  liis  newly  resurrected  life.    "The  problem  of  involved  in  the 
human  life  is  identical  with  the  project  of  the  universe,"  as  Eucken  corroborates  the   ^  ^  °  ™^"* 
inferences  here  drawn  from  analogous  facts.  Man  is  to  redeem  nature. 

In  addition  to  the  result  of  our  former  inquiry  as  to  the  destiny  of  the  physical  arresTÄture?  "*' 
cosmos  we  now  come  to  draw  the  final  conclusion  upon  the  subject.  development. 

We  touched  upon  the  existence  of  a  created  spiritual  world.    An  objection  to  this  l^h^lfS  **'  '"**'°° 
doctrine  or  apperception  cannot  be  raised  on  philosophical  grounds.    Whatever  may  re^Jrrerttd'iife'!^'^ 
be  thought  about  the  ranks  of  an  angelic  world  is  here  irrelevant.  Their's  is  a  sphere  *^"''"'' 

of  a  spiritual  existence.  Of  the  physical,  visible  part  of  creation  man  is  the  final  ob- 
ject and  end.  In  him  the  physical  meets  the  spiritual  sphere  for  the  purpose  of  their 
blending. 

The  celestial  part  of  creation  is  included  in  this  general  unification  in  order  to  Äf  existence  o/"*' 
perfect  the  final  consummation.    It  is  included  inasmuch  as  it,  too,  was  intended  to  be'rlused^on^'^' "'"'  "°* 
serve  man's  best  interests.    The  celestial  part  must  be  included  in  the  transit  to  per-  philosophical  grounds. 
fection,  else  the  reinstatement  of  man  into  the  sovereignty  over  the  universe  would  The  physical  and 

°    •    •'  spiritual  spheres  blend 

not  be  warranted,  and  the  end  of  the  fight  for  the  possession  of  the  world  would  '»» '«'*'» 

be  left    undecided.  perfection^the  eeres^tlal 

Abodes  of  angelic  beings  may  exist  in  such  plenitude  that  in  comparison  with  fncLd^ed-'**""*  ™"**  ^' 
them  this  visible  cosmos,  dispersed  as  it  is  into  confusing  heaps  of  stars,  and  in  its  else  the 
constraint  under  mechanical  laws,  is  to  be  taken  as  a  very  small  part  of  creation  in  its  iu^^R^HfH'*"  ?l 
totality,  as  no  more  than  "a  dark  place."    Conscious  of  the  risk  incurring  in  the  possession  of 
transgression  of  our  limit,  we  state  this  merely  as  a  probability.    But  it  does  not  in-  ^q®  be  aSured!^ 
validate  our  assertion  that  all  of  these  realms  would  yet  amount  to  no  more  than  en-  .„ ,,   , 

.  •'  All  the  starry  world's 

velopmgs  of  man  and  his  world.    As  this  narrower,  visible  cosmos  centers  in  man,  »»^e  but  environments  of 

,         .  ,  '  '    man  and  his  world, 

so  the  cosmos  encircling  our  universe  is  connected  with,  and  related  to  him.    All 
spheres  take  part  in  man's  development  and  are  awaiting  his  completion.    When  comple'ted*,  the  great 
after  the  final  crisis  the  idealty  of  man  is  rendered  complete,  then  that  consum-  ensued" Vhioh^an the 
mation  will  ensue  for  which  all  spheres  are  preparing;  and  the  thorough-going  prepaHngr  '^'"*'"^*"'^ 
change  of  the  entire  universe  will  take  place,  in  which  the  material  and  soluble  The  visible  world 
substance  will  be  fashioned  into  forms  concrete  and  indissoluble  and  immaterial,  ^^„^?1**  *^®  f?™]**^^ 

XI  j^.iiijii  ..«.,  or  the  world  or 

yet  no  less  material  than  the  substantiality  of  which  mind,  in  the  present  state  true  reality  and 
even,  may  form  a  conception.  permanency.  ^  ^^ 

§  233.    We  remember  from  a  previous  discussion  of  this  subject,  that  this  visible  Material  substance 
world  surrounding  us  in  palpable  shapes,  is  but  the  symbol  or  emblem  of  the  world  th"  eslenuai  eilS  o? 
of  true  reality  and  permanency  veiled  by  this  coarse  materiality.  ^''^'"'^' 

Nature  in  its  transciency  and  formations  of  stuff  consists  of  more  than  mere  S^notTis'^ernabie' to'" 
phenomena  of  the  material  substance.    It  is  just  this  matter  as  we  call  it,  which  is  '"**''*"*'  examination. 
one  of  the  world's  unsolved  riddles,  because  substance  in  its  essentiality  is  more 
imperceptible  than  the  essence  of  salt,  the  quickly  oxidising  natrium.    It  is  indis-  Matter  in  its 
cernible  to  scientific  examination  for  good  and  very  natural  reasons.    For  matter  in  appearance  is 
its  present  appearance,  in  the  visible  form  of  nature  is  not  what  it  ought  to  be,  and  not  what  it  ou&ht 
must  cease  to  be  for  any  purpose  whatever.    It  is,  therefore,  of  no  permanency.    It 
is  but  disengaged  force,  which,  instead  of  gravitating  in  life  intrinsic,  gravitates  in  furvZ^'X^uo "'  ""^ 

its  own  center.  permanency. 

Recent  conclusions  of  natural  philosophy  have  corroborated  this  condition.    Nat- 
ural philosophy  has,  irrespective  of  Baader's  views,  repeatedly  averred  that  visible  corroborated  by  recent 

„         .  ^  *.  V  conclusions  or  natural 

matter  can  be  accounted  for  m  no  other  way  than  as  having  issued  from  immaterial  philosophy.      baadkr. 

•'  °  Rknouviebe.  S  19. 

principles.    At  the  outset  we  conceded,  for  argument's  sake,  to  the  interpretation  of         fe,  hner,  ix.tze. 
Leibnitz,  who  tried  to  extricate  matter  from  its  confused,  materialised  condition  by 
proposing  the  monads,  in  order  to  improve  upon  the  view  which  had  been  entertained, 
from  times  immemorial,  namely,  that  nature  pure  and  simple  had  become  inverted  j^j^d  is  able  to    - 
into  coarse  materiality  by  a  crisis  prior  to  the  creation  of  man.    Fechner  as  well  as  affect  physical 
Lotze  knows  nature  to  be  an  entity,  imbued  with  psychical  vitality  and  energy  from  Sme^mode  as 
its  first  beginning.    The  correctness  of  their  inductions  was  acknowledged,  and  l^bSance  afilcts 
resulted  in  the  axiom  that  mind  is  able  to  affect  physical  matter  in  the  same  mode  t^e  ponderable, 
as  imponderable  substance  affects  the  ponderable. 


43Ö 


TRANSFIGURATION  OF  THE  COSMOS. 


III.  B.  Ch.  V.  ^  231 


Matter  reducible 
to  its  essential 
naturalness. 

Illustrated  by  sand 
being  transmutable  into 


Nature  will  cease  to  be  a 
mere  semblance  of  the 
beautiful  and  the 
sublime,  but  continue  to 
be  their  most  adequate 
expression  without 
further  possibility  of 
degradation. 


Simultaneous 
with  the 
reappearance  of 
the  Mediator, 
man  will  appear 
in  the  glory  of 
his  original 
destination. 

Insufficiency  of 
corporeal  means  of 
communication, 


whilst  we  are  sure  of  the 
mind's  working 
independently  of  the 
body. 


The  temporary 
formation  of  the  mind 
body  is  inadequate  to 
the  nature  of  the  mind. 


Sequences  of  the' 
transmutation  of  the 
cosmos. 


Hulls  falling,  secrets  and 
uncovered  mysteries 
disclosed. 


The  new  temple 
and  the  true 
theocracy. 

The  habitation  of  the 
Glorified  Head  with  His 
glorified  members. 


Closing  scene  of  history. 
Illustrated  by  analogy, 
scaffoldings  vanish; 
dedication  solemnised ; 
anthems  of  praise. 

Goethe 

on  the  full  appearance 
of  the  Beautiful. 


Our  object  in  stating  these  findings  is  simply  to  coax  out  tlie  confession  that 
matter— having  protruded  from  an  invisible  nature,  invisible  at  least  to  our  eyes, 
and  attempting  to  substantiate  its  possibility  of  becoming  an  abnormity — is  also 
adapted  to  become  reabsorbed  or  transmutated  into  the  original  state  of  invisible 
existence.  Coarse  sand  is  transformable  into  transparent  crystal  glass  without  any 
change  of  its  essence.  All  we  claim  is  that  in  a  similar  manner  the  earthly  visible 
stuff,  the  lightless  geological  mass,  is  to  be  considered  as  reducible  to  its  original 
condition,  to  its  essential  naturalness.  Nature  thus  sublimated,  as  it  were,  will  no 
longer  be  the  veil  concealing  the  spiritual  world,  or  the  mere  semblance  of  the  Beau- 
tiful and  the  Sublime,  but  will  continue  to  be  its  most  adequate  expression  without 
any  further  possibility  of  degradation. 

Simultaneous  with  the  final  crisis  pursuant  to  the  reappearance  of  the  True  Man, 
the  Mediator,  and  with  the  transfiguration  of  the  cosmos  into  a  state  of  different  per- 
ceptibility, man  will  appear  in  the  glory  of  his  original  destination.  In  the  present 
state  he  is  hemmed  in  and  hampered  by  a  corporeality  which  paralyses  his  most  in- 
tense and  normal  aspirations.  Our  means  of  communication  with  our  surroundings 
are  insufficient;  the  unsatisfactory  communication  depends  entirely  upon  a  very 
feebly  wrought,  extremely  sensitive  and  therefore  most  fragile  nervous  system  of 
which  our  reflecting  consciousness  has  scarcely  a  partial  control. 

The  transactions  necessary  to  report  a  sensation  to  our  sensorium  and  to  return  the 
answer,  requires  a  certain  time.  The  most  important  actualisation  of  the  will  has  to  accommo- 
date itself  to  the  complicated  apparatus  of  nerve- threads  and  ganglions,requiring  time  for  the 
performance  of  its  duties.  Hence  only  one  thought  or  act  can  be  accomplished  at  a  time,  our 
day-consciousness  can  only  proceed  in  the  slow  form  of  tedious  intermediation.  And  yet  we 
know  of  a  different  form  of  the  mind's  activity,  not  explicable  by  the  most  subtile  observation 
and  most  elaborate  doctrine  of  nerve- reaction.  That  form  of  consciousness  which  we  call  "un- 
reflected",  that  part  of  the  mind  which  is  evidently  free  from  the  restraints  of  space  and  time, 
permits  of  our  ratiocinative  conclusion  that  the  mind  can  work  independent  of  the  body  and 
its  f  unctuary  organs,  and  that  certain  states  of  mind  are  observable  which  border  on  disem- 
bodiment. It  is  agreed  to,  at  any  rate,  that  our  knowledge  and  doings  are  under  durance  of  a 
cumbersome  technique,  that  thought  and  deeds  are  hindered  by  the  temporary  formation  of 
the  body  which  in  this  respect  is  inadequate  to  the  nature  of  the  mind. 

Along  with  the  transmutation  of  the  cosmos  thus  indicated,  the  mysteries  will 
become  disclosed  which  are  as  yet  veiled  by,  but  shine  through,  this  temporary  con- 
stitution of  human  nature.  The  dual  form  of  consciousness  becomes  liberated  from 
its  polar  strains.  In  a  new  form  of  corporeality  the  human  being  assumes  and  as- 
similates to  itself  new  organs  answering  its  new  environments  in  the  changed  order 
of  things.  Now  at  last  has  man  entered  the  state  of  perfection.  For  after  the  reap- 
pearance of  the  proto-type  or  image  after  whom  man  was  created,  his  corporeality  is 
to  correspond  with  that  of  the  glorified  Mediator.  The  mystical  temple  edifice,  repre- 
senting the  realisation  of  what  was  true  in  the  thought  of  theocracy;  the  habitation 
of  the  glorified  Head  with  its  glorified  members,  will  be  mystical  no  longer,  but  will 
stand  forth  complete  as  originally  planned  before  creation  began.  Then  at  last  man 
stands  out  conspicuously  in  the  grandeur  of  his  perfection.  With  this  consummation 
history  comes  to  a  close.  The  fabric  of  the  visible  is  then  taken  down,  having  ful- 
filled its  purpose  of  serving  as  the  scaffold  in  the  upbuilding  of  that  temple. 

When  the  architect  has  completed  the  rearing  of  his  monumental  work,  the  auxiliar- 
ies of  frames  and  scaffoldings  must  vanish  with  the  building  rubbish,  and  the  contrivances 
and  tools  are  put  aside.  Under  the  praises  of  the  multitudes  dedication  is  celebrated.  Such  an 
occasion  forms  a  fitting  analogy  to  that  moment  which  inaugurates  the  course  of  the  endless 
eeons.  The  new  family  of  mankind  in  holy  community  reveals  the  glorious  realisation  of 
man's  being  and  destiny.  The  throngs  of  the  spiritual  realms,  beholding  it,  unite  in  jubilant 
anthems  of  praise,  and  partake  of  the  most  intense  raptures  of  blessedness. 

"The  Beautiful,"  says  Goethe,  as  related  by  Eckermann,  "is  an  original  phenomenon 
never  making  its  full  appearance  as  such,  becoming  visible,  however,  in  thousands  of 
modifications  wrought  by  one  creative  spirit."  This  Beautiful  is  going  to  reveal  it- 
self in  the  harmony  of  man  perfected.  It  will  not  consist  so  much  in  the  sublime  ex- 
hibition of  human  endowments  hitherto  hidden  to  the  extent  of  fully  one  half  of 
man's  |potentialities,  as  in  the  beauty  and  harmony  of  his  internal  qualities  being 
displayed  in  their  full  glory,  when  the  tattered,  earthly  attire  falls  away  from  the 
spiritualised  body.    This  turning  inside  out  will  result  from  the  convergence  of  the 


fit  B.  Ch.  V.  §  234.     FORMS  OF  CONSCIOUSNESS  AND  INNER  LIFE  HARMONISED.  431 

two  lines  of  culture  and  cultus  which  hitherto  ran  in  separate  wave-lines  repeatedly 
crossing  one  another  in  their  several  upward  and  downward  courses.  The  majestic 
simplicity  of  tlie  one  has  appropriated  to  itself  the  wealth  of  the  other.  Pious  con- 
templation, childlike  affection  and  gratitude,  and  ardency  of  consecration  will  no 
longer  have  to  shun  the  seductive  incitements  of  the  manifold,ever  diverting  thought 
under  the  predominance  of  appetite  and  eccentric  tendencies  towards  the  periphery 
of  externals. 

It  was  the  propensity  of  temporal  nature  toward  eccentricity,  which  made  it  cy- 
cle through  the  diversity  of  cultural  aims  and  educating  elements,  whereby  world- 
consciousness  abandoned  itself  to  worldliness. 

But  after  having  been  turned  from  its  centrifugal  tendency  this  world-conscious-  JfJe  chUdref.  o^f 
ness  will  be  embraced  by  God-consciousness  into  which  it  had  become  concentrated.  [\^^  consists  in 

•^  .  tlie  sum  and 

Whosoever  chose  the  attitude  of  affectionate  child-likeness  will  come  into  posses-  substance  of  all 
sion  of  the  whole  inheritance  of  culture  without  any  boasting  of  achievements,  with-  f  Jhievemeilt".'^*' 
out  selfglorification. 

Gradually  the  whole  circumference  of  civilised  life,  generally  speaking,  had  been 
drawn  into  the  centripetal  movement  and  into  the  emotion  of  intense  attachment  un- 
til it  rests  contented  in  the  center.  From  this  center,  by  way  of  numberless  variations,  hme'ruS 
will  radiate  the  copiousness  of  all  that  which  is  virtuous  and  soulful,  graceful  and 
elegant,  in  youthful  bouyancy  and  manly  strength. 

This  beauty  of  the  inner  life  will  shine  forth  in  external  forms  of  beauty  from 
man,  the  now  universally  recognised  head  of  creation.    The  inner  life  of  chivalrous 

.  .  «     ,  .1,  ,  •!      1  »         ii  fittingly  embodied  to 

fancy  and  delicacy,  marking  the  ideal  of  the  romance,  will  be  reconciled  by  the  grace-  express  the  virtuosity  of 
fulness  elaborated  in  the  antique.    The  plastic  embodiment  of  the  Beautiful  will  be 
the  main  feature  expressing  the  virtuosity  of  the  all  pervading  spirit.    All  the  beati- 
tude of  the  spirit-soul  will  radiate  from  the  new  psychical  body,  which  commenced  its 
harmonising  development  amidst  the  shadowy  forms  of  earthly  beauty. 

Then  the  great  contrast  between  the  higher  and  the  lower  world,between  the  celes-  contrast  between  the 

.  „  .  celestial  and  internal 

tial  and  terrestrial,  which  hitherto  had  caused  the  intermediate  strains  of  polarity  put  out  of  sight. 
and  all  woeful  departures  and  separations,  will  be  abrogated  by  the  Mediator,  in 
Whom  alone  humanity  finds  its  peace  and  rest. 

§  234.  Man,  being  the  theme  of  history,  the  realisation  of  the  thought  underly.  The  goal  of  history. 
ing  his  entire  being,  and  its  exposition  in  every  respect,  must  be  the  goal  of  history. 
This  realisation  proceeds  under  methods  of  freedom.  In  freedom  man  had  to  afiirm^ 
and  to  conform  himself  to,  his  given  position  and  incumbent  destiny.  In  this  rela- 
tive freedom,  whose  preservation  or  regaining  was  enjoined  upon  him  by  the  nature  methods  of  wdom. 
of  things,  he  was  to  make  his  potentialities  evolve  from  their  depths  in  a  diversity  of 
relatione;  in  freedom  he  was  to  cultivate  his  gifts  in  the  course  of  historic  eventuali- 

.„_  i-^j    ^vlthout  compulsion, 

ties.    Without  compulsion,  under  no  other  necessity  but  that  of  the  Supreme  Good  under  no  otiier  necessity 

*^  '  "^  .    ,  .       „  ,^  ■,  l>ut  that  of  the  Supreme 

he  was  to  bring  all  the  wealth  of  opportunities  and  accomplishments  from  the  realm  Good. 
of  the  secondary  good  into  subordination  to  himself  and  into  relation  with  the  com. 
mon  center  of  all.    In  his  capacity  as  the  acme  of  all  created  being,  he  was  to 
bend  all  which  he  represented  into  proper  relation  to  himself  as  he  is  related  to  God. 
Ever  free  to  maintain  this  concentrative  tendency  throughout  all  the  ever  renewing 
and  changing  conditions,  he  was  to  verify  the  saying  that  "we  are  kindred  to  the 
deity",  to  adjust  his  reality  to  his  destiny.    In  free  selfconsecration  during  his  term 
of  probation,  with  the  tests  and  the  contest  rendered  necessary  for  the  very  purpose 
of  adjusting  his  conduct,  that  is,  during  the  historical  development,  he  was  to  divulge  Man  to  brin«  the  realm 
the  mystery  of  his  divine  affiliation,  the  rich  contents  of  his  psychical  and  divine  ä^uo" wuh liud/"*" 
relations   and   obligations.     Heretofore   we  symbolised  ethical  progress  by   con- 
current lines,  each  representing  one  particular  phase  of  culture  in  competition  with 
another  through  longer  or  shorter  intervals.    All  the  ups  and  downs  formed  a  figure 
showing  the  modes  of  cooperation,  reciprocity,  and  mutual  stimulation  in  behalf  of 

°  f  >  t-  .^  7  to  adjust  under  an 

historical  advance  through  civilisation  to  glorification.    For  the  sake  of  still  clearer  circumstances  his 

*=»  °  .ii»  j.«i    reftl'ty  to  his  destiny. 

exposition  we  may  choose  the  metaphor  of  musical  tones  instead  of  geometrical 
signs. 


432 


"eoinetrical  signs 
'eplaced  by  musical 
tones. 


to  illuctdate  tlie 
cultural  ilevelopiuent  of 
history  through 
civilisation  to 
glorificiitiun. 


What  the  therae  is  in 
a  fugue,  Wiis  the  Son  of 
(i<i<l  to  liistory 
throughout  its  course 
as  projected  in  Him 
before  the  beginning. 


The  theme 

drowned  in  tlie  noise  of 
discords, 

but  emerges  ever  and 
again  and  leads  on  to 

the  harmony  of  unity. 

The  "image"  of  the 

begriiiniiig-, 

is  the  "sign  of  man" 
who  wrought  out  a  new 
departure  of 
development  in  the 

middle  of  time, 

and  who  reappears 

at  the  end. 


The  marvelous 
climax  of  the 
"concert". 

The  reunited 
human  family, 
the  children  of 
God  bringing 
their  fruits. 

Among  those 

who  could  a|)preciate  the 
Son  of  (Jod,  and 

through  them 

it  becomes  known 

why  revelation 
remained  veiled. 

In  renewed  humanity 
the  Modiiitor  ever  s:iw 
the  reflection  of  Himself. 

His  reappearance 
signalises  the  execution 
of  judgment. 


Tempter  driven 
from  tlie  world. 


The  purified 
world  man's  own. 


HISTORY  COMPARED  TO  A  FUGUE.  Ill  B.  Ch.  V.  §  234. 

In  the  polyphcnic  composition  termed  a  fugue,  one  voice  gives  the  theme,  and 
whilst  it  pursues  the  intonated  air,  another  voice  sets  in  and  still  another,  each  in  a 
modified  key  answering  the  melody  in  its  own  manner.  The  theme  continues  its 
part  as  the  melody,  intertwining  all  voices  into  one  complex  and  purposive  whole, 
tho  now  and  then  the  theme  may  seem  to  be  lost— but  we  need  not  stretcli  the 
metaphor. 

The  one  theme  conceived  before  the  beginning,  the  Son  in  Whom  the  thought  of 
a  world  was  conceived  and  projected,  and  through  Whom  it  was  realised,  is  now 
known  and  appreciated.  In  the  first  man  this  theme  was  intonated,  and  in  a  few 
distinct  outlines  the  system  of  a  developing  world  made  its  appearance.  The  theme, 
divined  but  not  understood,  was  the  basis  of  innumerable  modifications  ensuing. 
The  inner  wealth  of  the  composition  became  unfolded,  tho  not  comprehended;  in  a 
wild  torrent  of  discords  the  flood  of  tones  often  seemed  to  rush  over  the  banks.  As 
the  vociferous  noise  of  roaring  masses  seems  to  drown  the  theme,  so  the  thought  un- 
derlying the  world's  composition  underwent  perversions  in  those  ethnical  fac- 
tions which  had  broken  loose  from  the  unit  of  humanity.  But  the  thought  survives 
and  revives,  governs  and  gathers  the  medley  of  aberrations  and  opposing  move- 
ments by  strict  contrapuntal  rules;  until  at  last  the  conflicting  series  are  united 
again  into  majestic  accords,  until  the  harmony  of  unity  rises  from  the  perplexing 
confusion  of  diversity.  So,  speaking  without  metaphor,  was  the  "Image'*  of  the  Med- 
iator the  theme  of  history,  in  the  form  of  a  gift  and  a  task,  contained  in  the  prophesy- 
ing figure  of  the  first  man  at  the  beginning  of  history. 

The  ''Image"  bodily  appeared,  tho  veiled,  in  the  middle  of  the  times,  when  in  free 
selfconsecration  and  inanition  the  One,  as  a  "sign  of  men",  wrought  out  the 
image  in  a  new  departure  of  development.  And  finally  it  reappears  and  is  reflected 
in  a  new  humanity  at  the  end  of  time. 

The  work  of  history— the  transition  of  the  sublime  Image  of  the  Mediator,  as  pro- 
ceeding from  unity  to  diversity,  and  the  impartation  of  that  glory  given  in  the 
Head  to  the  many  destined  to  glory— is  now  finished. 

The  key-note  and  the  secret  of  the  exceedingly  wild  and  odd  sounding  polyphonic 
composition— emerging  and  submerging  in  thousands  of  inexplicable  implications 
and  intrinsic  methods,  developing  many  variegated  groups  and  pitiable  masses  of 
detached  humanity  throughout  times  and  clim'es  far  apart— exhibits,  after  all,  a 
marvelous  climax  of  the  concert.  The  plant  has  grown  to  a  tree  upon  whose 
branches  those  of  all  nations,  which  represent  the  blooming  crown  of  creation, 
assemble  and  form  the  congregation  of  renewed  men,  of  a  reunited  human  family: 
the  children  of  God  bringing  forth  their  fruits. 

The  historic  task  of  the  nations  being  accomplished,  history's  secret  becomes 
plain  and  conceivable.  To  that  community,  and  through  its  instrumentality  to  the 
world,  it  is  now  rendered  public  and  palpable  why  this  image,  impressed  upon  man, 
was  to  remain  enigmatical  until  the  riddles  were  solved;  how  they  were  solved 
through  the  entering  of  the  "Likeness  of  God"  Himself  and  by  His  return  in  majesty 
into  the  midst  of  that  new  humanity  in  which  He  ever  saw  the  reflection  of  Himself. 
This  reappearance  signalises  the  execution,  is  the  affirmation,  of  judgment,  and  is  at 
the  same  time  the  absolute  criterion  of  its  justice.  This  appearance  now  as  before, 
is  to  be  faced  by  the  Bad  in  its  everlasting  attempts  at  maintaining  itself.  It  was  des- 
tined to  be  driven  out  of  the  world  of  men  where  it  was  thought  to  have  firmly  estab- 
lished itself,  but  where  it  had  lost  its  power  in  the  realm  of  new  life,  because  the 
"Word  of  His  mouth"  paralysed  the  tempter. 

Now  the  purified  world  is  man's  own.  It  now  becomes  a  system  open  to  his  in- 
stantaneous insight  and  immediate  influence,  no  more  to  be  forced  into  subjection  by 
screws,  and  sledges,  and  pulleys,  and  derricks,  but  being  at  his  service  voluntarily  and 
joyfully.  This  new  organism  of  the  renovated  world  is  now  the  place  where  un- 
bounded freedom  dwells,  in  which  the  nature  of  things  is  adapted  to  mirror  the  glory 
of  the  royal  race  in  every  possible  variation  of  the  Beautiful. 

Universal  history  is  not  the  story  of  the  earth  alone.  It  is  the  memory  of  what- 
ever event  took  place  in  the  universe,  that  is,  of  whatever  concerned  humanity  and 
pertained  to  its  world. 


in  B.  §  235.        THE  THREE  CIRCLES  IN  INTERRELATIONS  AROUND  THE  CENTER.  433 

The  original  "Type",  entering  time  incognito  as  the  "Word"  incarnate  calls 
forth  the  new  race,  and  convenes  the  assembly  of  His  Kingdom. 

This  earthly-Heavenly  Kingdom  always  had  been  floating  before  the  vision  of  ^^^^^^  ^^    j^^. 
humanity,  was  always  the  innermost  of  three  concentric  circles  revolving  upon  the  the  royai^race.  ^ 
Mediator.  Around  this  circle  and  in  immediate  proximity  to  it  there  revolves  another,  Hivt„ry  the  memory  of 
the  circle  of  the  historic  world.    It  is  the  task  appointed  to  those  of  the  inner  circle  ule'!^Z^L\!oernTng 
to  pervade  and  to  embrace  the  other  in  the  same  manner  as  the  inner  circle  is  at-  ''"'"'"''**• 
tracted  by  its  center. 

This  second  circle  is  again  surrounded  by  a  third,  the  world  of  nature,  the  cosmical  Earthly- 
organism.    It  was  the  task  of  the  first  circle  to  comprehend,  yea,  to  surpass  the  em-  khl^^d"'^!    i 
blematic  glory  of  the  third,  and  to  elevate  to  its  own  source  of  glory  this  third  circle  ever 
by  way  of  the  second,  through  culture.    These  three  circles  perfectly  correspond  vmOh  of *hümHnUy*  "'^ 

J,-,..,  ••J.  1  ii_-i  always  the  iiinernioüt  of 

to  the  triad:  spirit,  soul  and  body.  three  concentric 

Now  the  work  is  done,  as  far  as  it  could  be  done  without  abandoning  or  vio-  ^^^<^^^s- 
lating  freedom.    History  having  risen  from  its  first  insignificant  premise,  which  con-  historic  world 
taiued  the  proto-type  and  motife  of  the  whole,  up  to  its  fulfilled  work,  returns  to  its  *" '« pervaded hy  the 

.,.,,,.  ^...,  .  powers  of  the  first  in  the 

starting  point  in  order  to  disappear.    Spirit,  soul  and  body  are  now  translucent,  "f""«'^ "?  *his  was 

X  iT  jr  7  ^  attracted  by  its  center. 

What  has  caused  all  the  torments  in  this  world  of  man,  relapses  into  nothingness,  rpj^^  ^^^.^^^  ^. ^.^j 
But  whatever  had  been  a  formative  concomitant  of  history  looms  up  in  the  new  sphere  is  the  natural 
of  permanency  and  unity,  accompanied  by  the  triumphant  symphonies  of  all  the  c!S  organtsmf™*" 
spheres  earthly  and  celestial,  in  Honor  of  Him  who  was  their  Creator  and  Liberator. 


RESULT  AND  CLOSING  REMARKS. 


Is  there  Any  Pessibility  for  an  Adequate  Construction  of  A  Philosophy  of  History? 

§235.    Not  unless  we  are  permitted  to  avail  ourselves  of  the  aid  of  the  deduc-  Deductive  method 
tive  method.    Unless  we  proceed  from  definite  premises  given  in  Christianity  and  l^roSÄdeSite 
preserved  by  the  Church,  a  somewhat  satisfactory  purview  of  the  life  of  nations  can-  ^L^rbiianuy"!*" '" 
not  be  gained.    And  such  a  philosophy  will  satisfy  such  only  as  grant  the  premises. 
This  is  to  say:   No  system  of  philosophy,  least  of  all  of  the  Philosophy  of  History,  can 
support  itself  on  a  base  of  pure  thought— it  must  be  borne  out  by  data.    Unless  these 
are  adduced  in  evidence  and  cross-examined,  as  to  the  competency  of  their  testimony»  Tuppor'tTsystenrof  * 
it  will  be  of  no  avail  to  arrange  a  system  by  interlinking  all  factors  and  effects  per-  »'•"'°'°p''y  »f  history. 
taining  to  history  into  one  locked  syllogism. 

We  found  it  necessary  to  take  our  position  outside  of  history.      But  the  formulas 
proposed  from  which,  for  argument's  sake,  we  set  out,  have  become  testproof  by  em-  -Hypothetical  positions 
piric  facts  inductively  adduced  and  legitimately  applied.    "Hypotheses  may  find  äffinuät'ion  in  reality- 
their  affirmations  in  reality;"  this  was  the  result  of  Dr.  Rochoirs  critical  review  of  ""  rocholl. 

former  attempts  at  philosophising  upon  history,  from  which  we  set  out  with  the 
result  now  before  us. 

A  system  of  philosophy  cannot  be  selfsupporting.    What  does  that  mean?  "Knowledge  has 

"Human  knowledge  on  the  whole,"  says  Schelling,  "has  no  character,  no  position  unless  supported 
unless  supported  by  something  which  stands  upon  its  own  merits;  and  nothing  is  whfch"sTa^nd'fon 
able  to  thus  qualify  itself  and  to  be  approved  of,  but  what  is  real  on  the  strength  of  i*s  own  merits", 
freedom".    Well  said,  if  Schelling  only  had  not  thought  it  necessary  to  fix  freedom  "Only  what  is 

.      ,  ,       ^,  J,  .  ,  ,  .   ,    ,  ■  real  on  the 

upon  metaphysical  grounds.  It  was  a  rather  slow  process  by  which  he  came  to  adopt  strength  of  free- 
the  great  maxim,  that  "liberty  is  the  Alpha  and  Omega  of  all  philosophy".  We  have  fSfTn  S'\^ 
arrived  at  the  same  conclusion,  but  by  way  of  induction,  proving  that  which  had  schell.n«. 

deductively  been  reasoned  out.  Always  keeping  in  sight  of  solid  facts,  we  took  eth-  criticum  of  scheiiing-s 
nical  material  as  we  found  it  and  as  it  still  presents  itself.  freejion.  on  metaphysical 

Throughout  the  course  of  our  procedure,  we  were  coerced  by  the  necessity  to  seek  the  key  -.]  j^erty  the  A  and  o 
of  interpretation  in  the  matter  itself,  if  phenomena  were  to  be  accounted  for  which  otherwise  of  all  philosophy", 
baffle  the  understanding  of  the  most  conspicuous  events  of  history.  Once  more  the  method  of  y^^^^  ^^^j.  j^  gjghtof 
Leverier  may  illustrate  and  vindicate  our  mode  of  syllogising.  Observation  of  disturbances  in  stem  facts. 
certain  groups  of  stars,  and  the  peculiar  behavior  of  certain  unknown  bodies  in  their  well  The  key  to  interpret 
known  courses  made  it  desirable  to  find  out  what  caused  these  irregularities.    Finally  the  history  to  besought  in 
savant  believed  that  a  certain  hypothetical  inference  might  set  the  matter  clear.  He  surmised  '**  °^"  "*  "^'^  ' 
some  undiscovered  star  to  cause  the  trouble  by  its  power  of  attraction.  He  demonstrated,  how 


434  RETROSPECT.     HISTORY  INTELLIGIBLE.  HI  B.  §  235, 

Leverier's  "^^  *^®  irregularities  indicating  his  supposition,  made  that  supposition  the  only  possible  key 

hypothesis  lead-  *»  »  satisfactory  explanation.    To  him  the  presence  of  that  obscure  corpus  delicti  became 

ing  to  the  sufficiently  certain  as  to  where  at  a  certain  astronomical  spot  its  location  in  the  immensity  of 

star^^nd^the  *  space  was  to  be  computed.    Galle,  soon  after,  upon  that  very  spot,  detected  the  planet.    This 

disappearance  of  »t  once  made  all  the  irregularities  disappear,  and  at  the  same  time  vindicated  the  legitimacy 

the  irregu-  of  hypothetical  theorising, 
larities. 

In  an  equal  manner  have  we  been  necessitated  from  the  beginnins:  to  reduce  a 

Irrational  phenomena,  x»-x.,,  ^  -.       a  ,„. 

anomalies  and  Set  01  irrational  phenomena— encountered  at  every  step  of  historical  advance  amidst 

disturbances   reduced  to.,  ,,.  .»  j.j. 

a  cause  indicated  but      the  cosmical  cuvironmeuts  of  man— to  reduce  the  anomalies  and  disturbances,  inter- 
not  .nteihgib  e  ferlug  wlth  the  regular  and  rational  course  of  things,  to  a  cause  indicated  by  the 
huiden^maiefactor! "      pheuomeua,  tho  uot  Intelligible  from  the  concurring,  regular  facts  as  far  as  tliey  were 
known.    We  soon  surmised  a  hidden  factor  which  after  its  discernment  would  ex- 
plain it  all.    And  we  became  enabled  to  point  out  the  spot  in  the  background  of  the 
TxT-Sie'lSer'rh'c'"*  hlstorlcal  constellations  \^here  this  malefactor  is  to  be  sought  for,  if  the  annoyances, 
hViuTiniTcateVarin     P^steriug  hlstory,  were  ever  to  be  accounted  for.    If  an  explanation  and  solution  of 
hirt^rTclf constellations.  ^^^  pecullar  tcusiou,  apparent  between  opposite  forms  of  consciousness  by  which  the 
and  would  be  detected    ^^^1^^^  worM  was  rout  lu  two,  werc  to  be  discovered  anywhere  in  history,  it  could  be 
at  the  proper  moment,    fouud  at  thls  conjuiictlou  aloue.  We  also  surmised  that  the  grave  questions  with  regard 
to  fear,  guilt  and  horrible  sacrifices,  the  problems  of  the  descent  of  peoples,  and  espec- 
The  healing  of      cially  of  the  enigmatical  phenomena  originating  in,  and  modifying,  human  con- 
the  disriipture      sciousuess— every  one  of  which  problems  agitated  the  nations  because  of  their  psychi- 

by  an  emcient  .,         .  ,.,••,,,•<.  -r.,^,     .  ,,. 

remedy  cal  bearings  upon  each  individual  life— must  find  their  solution  at  a  definitely  ap- 

according  to  prescription  poluted  placc  aud  at  the  right  moment.    Furthermore,  we  made  not  light  with  the 

to  be  adminis-      grave  and  premonitory  apprehension,  that  the  disrupture  of  all  the  forms  of  existence 

chmih^  *^*®         in  this  present  life,  which,  notwithstanding  their  being  lower  by  far  as  compared 

with  its  anti-types  in  the  higher  life  of  the  future  world  of  reality,  would  have  to  be 

brought  to  a  logical  and  last  actual  equation.    Since  physical  and  ethical  abnorm- 

S^rlcaTtesirrd  *"    ities  and  logical  dilemmas  demanded  the  appearance  of  a  factor  efficient  enough  to 

experfm*^ntTng.  make  amcuds  for  them,  the  advent  could  ensue  nowhere  else  but  at  the  hour  and 

place  designated,  and  in  the  manner  foreshadowed. 

We  confided  in  the  facts  as  represented  by  the  Church.  But  we  did  not  accept 
ance*of  tire^^**^  Its  testimony  without  putting  the  sacred  tradition  to  the  test  of  experience,  not  with- 
f hurch  *^'^  ^^*  offering  the  opportunity  for  freely  experimenting  upon  the  apparatus  accessible 

recognised  the        tO  every  OUC. 

Sf 'JmWersaT*****'^         In  the  appearance  of  the  Savior,  as  announced  by  the  Church,  we  recognised  the 
attractiveness.      expected  center  of  universal  attractiveness,  and  the  solution  of  all  problems  otherwise 
inexplicable.  This  Mediator  we  found  to  be  the  approved  focus  to  which  all  those  phys- 
ical, ethical  and  mental  demands  pointed,  yea,  the  one  in  Whom  all  the  lines  cut  each 
other.    His  appearance  is  fitly  to  be  compared  to  the  keystone  which  supports  the 
Illustrated  b  the  ^^^^  spruug  from  the  depths  and  forming  the  grand,  self  supporting  cupola  of  the 

Keystone,  and  the  stone  cxpauslve  domc.    Evcry  stone  in  the  cross- vault  has  its  joints  posited  in  the  direction 

reclining  upon  it.      §35  »  jr 

of  the  radii  of  the  curve.    The  form  of  each  is  designed  with  reference  to  its  leaning 
toward  this  fore-ordained  keystone. 

By  this  arrangement  of  transmitting  horizontal  pressure  into  vertical  thruss, 
The  world-  the  opeu   Contrasts   and   tensions    and   problems  were   spanned,  differing   from 

theory  discarding  ,,  .li  i        ,•/»       •       .l,     x  .li  *  i    ,  ,  ^,  ^  « 

this  body  bearing  the  earthly  edifice  m  that  the  pressure  comes  from  below,  and  the  center  of  gravity 
weight^of  air  ^^^  attraction  lies  in  the  support  from  above  as  in  the  central  sun— "the  Center  of 
ipaves  history  a  Equation".  A  world-theory  discarding  this  body  bearing  upon  all  relations  and  at 
unfit  to  be  joined  the  Same  time  bearing  the  weight  of  all  of  them,  would,  instead  of  a  well  built  dome, 
together;  represent  an    indiscriminate   mass  of  parts  whose  uncouth  shapes  forbade  their 

jointure. 
j.^^^^^  Disavow  the  central  person  and  the  matters  of  this  world  will  lie  about  in  heaps 

consistent  theory  of  desolatiou,  lie  in  a  dreary  condition  upon  the  periphery,  distressful  in  a  degree 
and'i'rl?ike8'the'  equal  to  the  ratio  of  their  distances  from  the  center;  lie  about  in  heaps  of  a  dead 
mlifiiatlon*f?f  th  ^^^^^^^^^^  without  a  purposc  and  deprived  of  any  principle  of  holding  them  together, 
truths  of  dualism  without  holding  out  any  hope  of  unity;  that  is:  under  Anti-Christian  aspects  matters 
wwid-the'ory**'  ^^^  uever  be  perceived  in  any  other  condition,  but  that  which  prevents  a  consistent 
impossible.  theory  of  human  life,  and  renders  the  much  desired  unification  of  the  truths  of 

dualism  into  a  monistic  world-theory  impossible. 


in  B.  §  235.  CERTITUDE  AS  TO  CORRECTNESS  OF  THE  INTERPRETATION.  435 

Leaving  void  the  place  of  that  center-piece  inserted  from  above,  history  as  a  worM-s  history  not » 
whole  would  not  only  resemble  a  palace  in  ruins,  but  would  actually  constitute  an  lecon^tVuction  of 
unintelligible  relapse  into  Tohu  Vabohu— into  a  world  "without  form  and  void."  h'umanSrff  unity, 

We  on  our  part  have  found  the  underlying  plan.    We  found  and  followed  the  '^*"  vi^'^^ed. 
traces  and  threads  of  unity  by  which  the  parts  of  fractured  humanity,  even  the  debris 
of  civilisation,  are  held  together  for  an  eventual  reconstruction  of  things,  and  to 
pledge  a  higher  insight  into  their  finality.  Man  not  only  the 

Intliis  plan  we  recognised  the  theme  of  history,  and  found  the  significance  of  pfanfbutalyo 
man  to  consist  in  his  being  not  only  the  bearer  of  this  plan,  but  also  commissioned  commissioned 

_        ^  to  carry  it  out. 

to  carry  it  out. 

Thither  we  were  guided  by  induction.    But  once  in  possession  of  the  Synthesis,  IPoTlectlTeyo" 5""'  **"' 
and  knowing  the  secret  of  its  combination,  we  were  allowed  to  test  and  to  verify  our  JUd^uct^oa'  ^^""""^ ''"" 
conclusion  and  comprehension  thus  gained,  by  deductive  ratiocination. 

We  were  justified  in  pursuing  our  interpretation  of  history  in  the  light  of 
the  plan  thus  discerned. 

One  of  the  fundamental  questions  was  solved  when  to  earthly  history  its  sphere  Present  life 
had  once  been  assigned.    Well  says  H.  Fichte:  "Present  life  is  incomprehensible  sibi^^f  nlJt^taken 
unless  taken  as  a  fractional  part  of  future  fulfillment.    Neglecting  this  relationship  as,a  factional 
of  the  part  to  the  whole,  life  with  reference  to  its  beginning  and  end  would  be  beset  f uifiifment?^^ 
with  voids,  and  our  thirst  for  understanding  would  be  mocked  in  a  cruel  manner.  "  ^'""*' 

But  our  life  resembles  the  projectional  curve-line  of  a  sectional  cone  whose  upward  ^^°^«»^**'^*  '■«*'"^«»  °<» 
direction,  if  profoundly  figured  out,  necessarily  points  to  an  apex  lying  far  beyond  its  "fetrtAwlVsection 
hyperbola"  of  a  cone. 

This  we  found  to  be  the  case,  as  we  went  on  our  way.  Something  indefinite  can 
never  be  clearly  understood ;  but  now,  under  the  aspect  of  its  totality,  history  was 
brought  within  a  compass  in  which,  and  to  a  focus  from  which,  we  were  able  to  sur- 
vey this  totality. 

From  that  center,  which  in  accord  with  definite  premises  and  self-evident  postu-  The  worid- 
lates,  had  become  substantiated,  we  obtained  a  full  view.    The  calculus  of  that  pro-  theory  herewith 

.     ^.  »  X,  .      ,         ^.  ,  .     .  .       ^      .       .  ,         ,  ,        ,   presented  claims 

jection  of  the  conical  section  proved  to  be  correct.  Beginning  and  end  were  rendered  scientific 
ascertainable.  From  this  point  of  view  we  gained  our  world-theory  which  claims  ^^^^  **^* 
scientific  validity. 

In  speaking  thus  of  our  part  of  human  knowledge,  we  would  like  to  be  under-  postive  knowledge  of 

XI  •  X,       ,  1     ^  »  j^i  1  ..         ,       .  -.  ■.      n  ■,  '        plan,  pitrpose  and  goal 

stood  as  meaning  the  knowledge  of  the  plan,  capacity,  design,  purpose  and  goal  of  his-  of  history. 
tory— not  the  specified  knowledge  of  all  the  material,  or  rather  immaterial  and  irrel- 
evant, particles. 

The  material  of  history  is  man;  he  is  the  substance  of  which  history  is  made  up.  a«  littie  as  "science" 
As  little  as  "science"  will  ever  be  able  to  give  the  satisfactory  explanation  of  matter  wliidSof  hSS 
or  substance  forming  our  palpable  environment,  so  little  will  historical  research  ever  onif^thus  gained/*"^' 
be  able  to  materially  change  our  views  of  life,  or  expound  to  us  how,  or  of  what  in  what  or  höw'personanty 
essence,  the  human  personality,  the  formative  agent  of  history,  is  composed.      And  "  "'""p"'^*^- 
just  as  little  will  we  be  able  to  answer  a  series  of  minor  questions,  perhaps  irrelevant  of"hfs^ry"^^"^ 

to  this  composition.  illustrated  by  the 

We  claim  to  understand  history,  nevertheless.    Holding  up  the  ground-plans  and  of  the  plan  of  an 
designs  of  an  edifice  to  our  attention,  knowing  the.  purpose  for  which  it  is  built— that  buifdfngkseiff 
is,  possessing  a  conception  of  the  whole— we  come  to  understand  the  details  in  the 
design  of  the  building. 

It  cannot  be  taken  as  boasting,  if  we  deliberately  state  that  certainly  we  compre- 
hend the  work  of  the  architect  and  his  artisans,  notwithstanding  the  malformations, 
or  aesthetic  flaws,  or  application  of  defective  material  in  the  construction,  and  not- 
withstanding, perhaps,  the  faulty  arrangement  of  the  rooms  inside  as  to  their  outfit 

and   use.  ^*  claim  the  knowledge 

Tho  we  may  be  ignorant  as  to  the  quality  of  building  material,  the  chemistry  of  what  «naily  becomes 
cement  and  the  adaptness  of  window-glass  or  door-hinges,  yet  knowing  the  idea 
underlying  the  whole,  we  can  judge  as  to  the  identity  of  the  draft  and  picture  with  ?h"e7e^utZTf*m°nor'' 
the  work  completed.    En  this  sense  we  claim  to  have  a  correct  view  of  history,  to  ^«*'^»^  °*  »''«*""'="*«- 
know  for  what  it  is  to  be  taken.  SifbiHf  SeSÄ. 

This  does  not  say  that  we  should  possess  full  knowledge  of  all  the  events,  in  all  Äation^"^  ''^  ^^^ 
their  bearings  and  knittings,  and  that,  if  we  went  so  far  in  our  pretensions,  we  were 


436  THE  CHRISTIAN  WORLD-THEORY.  HI  B.  §  235. 

The  plan  able  to  foUow  the  execution  of  the  plans  with  our  eyes.    But  we  claim  that  this  even 

Eecause'hid  would  have  been  possible,  if  our  idea  could  include  freedom  into  the  calculable,  that 

mattensT^^^^^"  ^^»  ^^  *^®  normal  course  of  things  had  not  been  thrown  out  of  gear  by  the  abuse  of 
crowding  liberty.    Thought  had  to  encounter  this  antagonism;  and  for  this  reason  the  plan,  as 

front^and  on  top.  far  as  its  execution  and  details  are  concerned,  was  withdrawn  from  view  behind  the 

malformations  which  crowded  themselves  to  the  front  and  on  top. 

A  lack  of  perspicuity  will  scarcely  be  charged  against  us.  We  took  the  advice  of 
portion  out  the  modesty  uot  to  engage  in  the  mysteries  of  numbers,  when  the  remarkable  cycles  of 
to^specific*^^^^  ^S^s  were  alluded  to,  which  might  have  induced  us  to  imitate  Pythagorsean  adven- 
modern  nations,  tures.  For  similar  reasons  we  have  not,  as  has  been  customary,  portioned  out  the 
No  such  classification  of  Mstorlcal  tasks  to  the  modern  nations.  No  predecessor  in  the  domain  of  our  knowl- 
deSta."*^'"'"^^^'  ""^  edge  could  convince  us  of  the  propriety  of  discussing  such  a  classification  of  cultural 
By  conceiving  advantages  or  defaults.  An  aversion  to  all  arbitrary  treatment  of  history,  well  jus- 
the  cardinal  tified  by  experience,  caused  us  to  maintain  our  reserve  on  that  score, 
becomes  "^^^'^^  And  yet  we  say,  that  conceiving  its  cardinal  thought,  we  have  come  to  under- 

thrcJu  ^hout  stand  history  thoroughly.    Since  this  thought  was  represented  in  the  Logos,  we  took 

the  liberty  to  speak  of  a  logic  in  history.  Would  we,  however,  be  pressed  to  confine 
nofin  the^sense  the  conception  of  logic  to  a  mere  methodology  of  reasoning,  then,  of  course,  we  were 
of  reTs^nhi^^^^^  ^^^  ^^^^  Speaking  of  a  Logic  of  History  in  a  sense  so  subordinate. 

Not  to  be  limited  by  the  Such  limitation  of  logic  to  the  techniques  of  epistemologists  is  no  longer  necessary. 

technique  of  Reasoning  must  now  have  objective  contents  as  it  ever  had  them.    But  what  today  is  termed 

Logics— a  set  of  rules  regulating  the  thinking  process,  a  general  theory  on  the  technique  of 
Barrenness  of  reasoning,  applicable  to  any  object  of  knowledge— simply  sets  up  mental  shelvings  regardless 

of  tenets  and  objects  of  thought.  Against  such  a  diminution  of  Logics  to  a  sum  of  formulas  and 

a  classification  of  syllogisms  we  enter  our  protest,  and  mean  to  stand  aloof,  as  we  have  done, 
tffbfi'wi^ll  *^y^  from  such  cool  indiflPerence  as  to  contents  of  thought,  toward  thought  in  the  concrete.  When 
content  itself  modern  logics  will  come  to  see  the  necessity  of  giving  up  such  a  position  of  impoverished 

with  teaching  aristocracy,  it  will  not  content  itself  with  teaching  dialectical  thinking,  but  will  teach  think- 

tht  ki  f  thft  ^^^  ^^^  *^®  sake  of  knowing.  It  will  then  no  more  start  from  reason  per  se,  either  pure  or 
sake  of  knowing,  uncritical,  as  the  case  may  be,  but  from  data  of  thought  derived  from  outside.   And  with  these 

contents  the  intellect  will  proceed  from  general  cognitions— the  universals  for  instance— in 
Intellect  will  in  a  *  matter-of-fact  manner  upon  its  way  towards  entering  into  relation  with  metaphysics.  Met- 
matter  of  fact  aphysics  sets  out  from  the  idea,  or  rather  concept  of  purpose  wherein  alone  rests  the  ration- 
manner,  proceed  ality  of  the  thing  per  se. 

"onwards  mftering         The  coucept    of  that  whjch  is  absolutely  true,  good,  and  beautiful,  lies  in  the 

»»*o  relation  with  notiou  of  finality.    Or,  let  it  be  stated  more  definitely,  and  under  the  same  right  a8 

Erdmann  in  his  Logics,  that  the  logically  qualified  condition  of  thought  must  have 

"The  appearance  ^^r  its  Contents  "the  ultimate  purpose  to  realise  itself  as  the  absolute  reason,  the 

^om^ri'sef  all  that  "^OGOS". 

is  real."  It  is  the  Logos  "Whose  appearance  comprises  all  that  is  real".    So  said  Hegel. 

»=«'=■■  We,  however,  who  differ  from  him  in  this,  that  we  hold  the  Bad  to  be  something  very 

But  the  bad  real,  must  substitute  another  attribute  to  the  Logos  and  say,    "Whose  appearance 

appearing  very  •  n  xi    j.  •     x  ^  v.   i    ?>» 

real,  we  rather      Comprises  all  that  IS  true  and  holy! 

true.''*^^  which  is         When  we  firmly  took  our  position  in  the  middle  of  the  times  and  with  the  per- 
sonified universal  reason  of  things,  the  Logos— we  found  in  Him  the  empirical  data 
Pe^amy^ai?^^*^^^^^  ^^  reality  all  explained.    Issuing  from  Him  the  pervasion  of  the  world  with  the 
explained  in  the    Infinite  goes  ou.    Ill  Him  as  the  chief  of  sufferers  we  found  the  real  condition  of  the 
^^^^'  world  to  be  such  as  to  contain  too  much  of  that  which  **ought  not  to  be".    In  Him  as 

made"i^  obvFous  *^^  Risen  One  we  saw  the  world  in  its  real  condition,  as  that  which  is  adapted  to 
that  there  is  undergo  a  metamorphosis  and  is  designed  for  perfection,  with  respect  to  both  the 

"which  o'ught  not  eternal-spiritual  as  well  as  the  temporal-physical  world.  We  found  in  the  Logos 
***  ^®*"  the  key  which  unlocked  the  mysteries,  and  solved  the  enigmata  of  the  natural  and 

His  resurrection  the  historical,  that  is,  the  moral  world.  In  Him  we  found  the  plan,  the  theme,  the 
condition  of  the  purpose  and  goal  of  all  the  movements  along  the  entire  course  of  nature  as  well 
inltilidiptnesf  *^  ^^  history.  In  spite  of  the  darknesses  and  malformations  and  caricatures  of  the 
to  undergo  a  thought,  we  fouud  the  theme  and  the  plan  to  pervade  the  whole  fabric  of  mundane 
me  amorp  osis,  transactions.  Out  of  the  contents  of  the  thought  thus  revealed  we  may  therefore  be 
revealed  the  goal  ^^  ^  positiou  to  reconstruct  the  whole  fabric,  notwithstanding  its  being  eclipsed, 
of  all  movements  Just  this  is  the  office  of  the  Logic,  or  rather  Metaphysics  of  History.  "It  has  to 
as  in  history.  furnish  the  principles  of  the  inner  connection  and  consistency  of  history,  and  has  to 
define  the  character  of  those  principles.     By  means  of  these  it  must  become  apparent 


IH  B.  §  235.  CLOSING  REMAUKS.  437 

what  historical  knowledge  must  be,  that  is,  of  what— according  to  the  nature  of  Metaphysics  of 
things  historical— knowledge  ought  to  consist,  so  that  the  formations  apt  to  ensue  ^"^*^^^- 
from  the  principles,  "histories  may  be  conceived  in  their  inner  necessity  as  a  system-  Sso^e^of^the"*^ 
atic  unit."    This  is  the  formula  circumscribing  the  scope  of  our  science  as  given  by  metaphysics  of 
Strodl.  What  the  true  idea  is,  namely,  the  consensus  of  principles  underlying  history,    ^^**^'"^'       stbodl. 
we  believe  to  have  convincingly  set  forth.    Yet  we  may  add  in  a  closing  remark,  that:  consensus  of 

Inasmuch  as  the  great  design  of  the  world  is  conceived  in  the  Logos;  and  inas-  {JJ',^e\'^'*'^ 
much  as  a  development  in  freedom,  answering  the  dignity  of  God  and  of  man,  was  history^"'^ 
the  necessary  requisite  even  at  the  risk  of  intrusion  on  the  part  of  the  Bad  and  the  m.    r-      .  ,    . 

•1  1-1  XI,       .  .X  »   xr..  .  ,   .  .  X  j.^       The  Great  design 

evil:— we  now  can  plainly  see  the  inner  consistency  ot  this  universal  history,  tho  of  the  world, 
concealed  under  the  mischief  caused  for  the  purpose  of  entangling  and  confusing  the 
children  of  men.  ^^^^^^^ 

We  observed  the  development  from  a  germ  to  the  new  seed,  under  the  aspect  of  a  impartation  of 
revelation  of  the  eternal  glory  of  the  Logos,  in  the  order  of  a  gradual  impartation  of  thi S^verslt" *of 
the  Divine  into  the  diversity  of  created  life.  revea^^th?' 

This  developing  realisation  is  impossible  without  labor.    It  was  designed  and  eternal  glory  of 
ordained  from  the  outset  that  created  life  should  actuate  itself  in  concert  with  the  *  ^  ^^^gos. 
Divine  Will,  even  in  that  form  which  is  inherent  in  the  general  order  of  things. 

If  the  thought,  the  purpose  of  the  world,  had  arranged  matters  so  as  to  accom-  The  developing 
plish  its  designs  without  the  resistance  of  a  substance  to  be  formed  or  worked  upon  gfoiy  impossible 
with  a  view  to  its  elevation— to  accomplish  its  ends  in  a  world  of  appearances  and  ^'Jcurrent^i  b 
transient  entities  pure  and  simple  without  contrasts,  the  Beautiful  could  not  have  of  created  life,  in 
manifested  its  variety  and  ended  in  glory.  SlvfnrwnL  *^^ 

Where,  without  regard  to  the  Bad,  no  concurring  relations  would  have  had  to  be  ^^^  exercise  for 
adjusted,  and  where  diverging  and  centripetal  tendencies  would  not  have  had  to  be  the  energies; 
bent  back  and  to  be  bound  up  in  common  interests:  there  could  have  been  no  exercise  ^^^^  histor 
for  the  energies,  no  emulation,  no  vitality.    Where  the  purpose  of  the  world  would  would  be 
have  moved  mechanically  in  its  selfsufläciency,  in  rounds  of  everlasting  repetition  ^"^^"«'^»vabie. 
without  impediment,  without  the  convict  for  maintaining  selfhood  against  the  mul-  a  Logic  of  facts 
tiplicity  of  distractions,  there  history  would  be  inconceivable.  ^{^^  confusion"*^ 

History  as  it  is  could  not  have  been  anything,  if  not  the  revelation  of  the  glory  of  wrought  by  the 
the  Logos  as  the  monistic  unit,  and  as  the  intensum  absolutum  within  the  extensive- 
ness  of  temporal  and  created  multiplicity.     Surely  we  are  entitled,  therefore,  to 
speak  of  a  Logic  of  History,  which  insists  upon  asserting  its  thought  by  facts— a  Logic  (^^ft  tobe"^^* ' 
which,  true  to  itself,  persists  in  realising  its  ideality  despite  all  the  mischief  and  con-  confounded  with 
fusion  wrought  out  by  the  lie.  mSch  tbusS)  is 

The  thought  which  we  found  and  dealt  with  under  that  name— so  as  not  to  con-  j,eceäary  in 
found  it  with  the  "idea"  of  Hegel,  for  instance — is  not  an  indiscreet,  capricious  no-  itself  and  for  its 
tion,  but  is— as  the  eternal  and  fundamental  idea,  necessary  in  itself  and  for  its  own  the^truth.' 
sake— the  truth.     Hence  it  is  not  "a"  Philosophy  of  History  which  is  offered  herewith. 

In  view  of  that  idea— identical  with  and  given  in  the  ground-plan— any  treatise  pJPe^iseris  the 
of  this  kind  is  by  virtue  of  the  nature  of  its  matter  more  than  a  philosophy.  This  book  treatise,  here 
at  least,  despite  its  defects  in  diction  and  arrangement  of  detail,  claims  to  contain  thaut phUosophy 
more  than  that.    If  there  be  fallacies,  they  cannot  invalidate  the  theme  or  underlying  ^-iJe  Philosophy 
thought;  the  defects  can  only  be  charged  against  the  mode  of  arguing, perhaps,  and  of 

the  legibility  of  the  style.  istory. 

Hence,  its  failings  notwithstanding,  the  book  is  in  essence 

THE  Philosophy  of  Histoby. 


